> Axioms
>  by NoPoemGuy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter One - Prologue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Outside the halls of Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, summer was in full swing.

The most recent issue of the Royal Canterlot Census had asked every pony in the region which season was their favorite: over 80% had answered 'summer'. In fact, that question had sparked a formal petition to shave a month off both spring and autumn and reallocate them to summer, and to take half a month off each side of winter to help even out the difference, but a contingent of winter sports enthusiast ponies had opposed it so vigorously that it never reached Canterlot for a vote. Still, pretty much everypony loved summer, and it was not hard to see why. For one, it was beautiful; the flora was in full swing, and lush green grass, towering trees, and fabulous flowers of every variety stretched in all directions. It didn't take a nature buff to love the atmosphere. The sun was also at peak performance, casting its warming rays over all of Equestria, so nopony had to grow out their coat or put on a jacket to enjoy the great outdoors. However, the biggest reason for summer's overwhelming popularity, though most ponies wouldn't admit it, was the low workload. It just seemed that every occupation across the board became easier during summer. The agricultural earth ponies in Dodge Junction had planted their crops that spring and wouldn't be harvesting until the fall, so aside from the occasional watering or resoiling, they were free to kick back and do whatever they pleased. The temperature-controlling unicorns in Ponyville no longer had to keep every residence heated as they did throughout winter, and instead were only required to use their cooling spells, which were much simpler and easier. The weather pegasi had it the easiest of all; with almost no snowflakes, rain clouds, or thunderstorms to send down to earth, they literally spent their workdays sleeping on clouds. And of course, school was out for the whole season, so every colt and filly of every type could frolic, play, or just relax.

Almost every colt and filly, that is. On this particular day, here at Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, the halls were buzzing with activity. The huge glass-paned doors to the building were propped open to allow for a steady stream of young unicorns and their families, relatives, and friends moving in and out. A line had formed snaking through the foyer, leading up to a desk with a rather bored-looking unicorn behind it, tossing paperwork at the parents to be filled out for their children. Throughout all this, all eyes were fixated on a small wooden door at the end of a long hallway in the back of the room, from which at any moment a child might emerge, either jumping excitedly and clutching an acceptance letter, or dejectedly hanging their head in shame as they made the long march back to the foyer. For here at the most prestigious magic school in the world, today was Entrance Examination Day.

Adjacent to the door of fate was another door, this one much larger and equipped with an ornate golden handle. It opened into a huge lecture hall, the biggest in the school, with an array of several hundred red-cushioned chairs laid out in front of a stage. Today, this room served as a waiting area; after finishing the paperwork, the ponies were hustled in here to await their turn to enter the examination room. There were only around twenty actual applicants in the room, but it was so full that several ponies had to seat themselves in the aisles. A chance to get into a magic school of this caliber was no small matter in anypony's book; every child had a big cheering section. Some of them were limited to the child's parents, close friends, and mentors, while others appeared to have shipped their entire hometowns to Canterlot for the day. The whole room was obnoxiously noisy, with everypony jabbering amongst themselves or making new acquaintances, sharing stories and jokes, bragging about all the amazing things their esteemed young scholars had done.

In this boisterous environment of ponies of every age, it was quite easy to pick out the actual applicants to the school; they were the ones who weren't talking. They were sitting on chairs or in corners, anywhere they could get a little piece of solace from the surrounding hubbub, with their noses buried in books, trying desperately to fill their little heads with as much information as possible before they were whisked away to the examination room to spit it all out again. A couple of them were up on the stage with their horns pointed at a ball or stone or textbook levitating in the air before them, practicing simple spells for the skills portion of the exam. There were a few other characteristics that singled these fillies out from the crowd. One was the look of apprehensive dread that universally stretched across all of their faces. Not only were they about to take a test that would either skyrocket them to the top of scholarly excellence or toss them back into their lowly grade school classrooms, but they also had to do it in front of essentially everyone they knew. The prospect of letting themselves as well as their families and friends down was enough to cause a few pairs of eyes to well up with nervous tears. But if their behaviors weren't enough to give away the fact they were auditioning for the greatest school in the land, their flanks were absolutely plenty. These ponies were truly the best, the brightest, the strongest unicorn fillies in Equestria, and their cutie marks showed it. One orange-colored filly sitting on the ground in a corner, huddled over The Complete Collection of Equestrian Wildlife, was marked with a butterfly net swinging down onto an open book, symbolizing her uncanny ability to remember absolutely anything and everything she read, even if just in passing. Another one, colored brown and located on the stage and slowly moving a rather heavy-looking rock in circles above his head, had a barbell floated above a cloud on his flank, a metaphor for the immense amount of raw magical power he was capable of channeling through his horn. Each and every one of them was gifted with a cutie mark that showcased his or her mastery of learning and magic.

Except one.

“Mommy, look at all the other fillies!” Twilight Sparkle shouted, bouncing up and down to get her mother's attention from her father, with whom she had been having a hushed conversation. “Every one of them already has a cutie mark! Every single one!”

Twilight's mother smiled down at her. She and her husband were the only two ponies accompanying their daughter today, certainly the smallest contingent of any filly in the room. “And honey, why should that matter at all?”

“Because I don't have mine yet!” Twilight shrieked, actually jumping up and down now. “They've all already found out that their special talents are magic, and I haven't!”

“Oh, honey, I'm sure tons of ponies get accepted here before they get their cutie marks, it just means that –"

“That's not true! Did you see the plaque on the wall, right outside this room? It had pictures of all the ponies that entered the school, and their names, towns of origin, and cutie marks! They ALL had one!”

“Dear –"

“And did you pay any attention to the ponies that were walking out of that exam room while we were filling out paperwork? Two of them didn't have cutie marks, just like me! And NEITHER of them got in! I mean, I know correlation doesn't imply causation, but it still means that –"

“Twilight, please, calm down!” her father said sternly, prompting Twilight to stop jumping and stare back up at him with wild, expectant eyes. “You're easily the youngest filly in this room! Of course you don't have a cutie mark yet, because getting your cutie mark is just a part of growing up. You'll get yours when the time is right, when you're old enough. It won't make a bit of difference in how you do on the exam, I promise.”

For a moment, that seemed to have calmed the purple filly down, but after a mere couple seconds she let out a gasp and went right back to hopping. “That doesn't make me feel better at all! If having a cutie mark correlates so strongly with age, that could just mean that ponies without cuties marks are doomed to fail the exam because they're not old enough –”

“The only thing that matters at this school is how smart you are,” her father asserted. “Tell me again, what is Twilight's Third Axiom?"

Twilight returned to the ground once again. “I am a smart pony,” she recited.

“You are a very smart pony,” her mother said kindly. She lowered her head until it was level with Twilight, staring into her daughter's eyes. “That's the truth. And I know how hard you've studied for today. It doesn't matter how old or strong any of the other students are, because I know that if you try your very best, you can make it.”

Twilight gazed right back at her mother. There was a certain sereneness dancing about her that seemed to calm the younger pony's nerves. “Okay,” she said.

Her mother leaned forward and gently nuzzled her. “But don't forget, even if you don't do as well as you hope, your father and I are still both very, very proud of you.”


…....…


Twilight continued watching her mother as she stood back up to her full height, towering over her own demure size, and reengaged her father in conversation.

Not helping, Mom, she thought sourly. You might as well have just said, 'I'll be really happy if you pass the exam, but I don't really expect you to.' Actually, now that she had sounded it out in her head, that mirrored her own views on the situation pretty well. Waiting in line out in the foyer, she had seen a total of eighteen fillies walk out of that wooden door, and only four of them had a letter of acceptance in their mouths. It was a small sample size to be sure, but she couldn't reasonably assume that any more than a third of the applicants passed the test. And here she was, the tiny little purple filly with the bare flank, trying to get into that lucky third…

Twilight gulped and forced her eyes downward, onto the open book in front of her. Celestial Mechanics, it was called. She was perfectly aware that this was very advanced stuff, probably beyond the scope of the exam and really more closely related to mathematics than magic, but it couldn't hurt to know more than she needed, right? It was certainly a better use of her time than reviewing the recommended material. She had received a list of books to review in the mail about a month prior, which she had promptly picked up from the library and rolled through in two days. Almost all of it was basic knowledge about magical history and the properties of magic – half of the books were ones she had actually read before – and the rest was just some “advanced” information about how to determine which spells one can cast, how to efficiently practice a spell so one can cast it in under a month, blah, blah, blah. She had quickly skimmed it to make sure there were no hidden important factoids in the text and then returned them to the library. It wasn't really relevant to her anyway, since she could cast any spell she wanted just by reading about it.

Why did so many ponies seem to have so much trouble casting spells, anyway? The theory behind it was clear enough. 'Magic comes from the mind'. Twilight had learned that all the way back in Magic Kindergarten; every single day, everypony in her class had been required to stand up and recite it along with the Equestrian Anthem. All a unicorn had to do was form an image of what it wanted to do in its head, then let it out through its horn. And the Canterlot Library of Magic had shelves and shelves of basically any spell she could possibly think of, complete with a full description of exactly what the spell did, a guide on how to form the thought and transmute it into magic, and even pictures detailing every step along the way. 'Magic comes from the mind' – how much easier could it be? Yet she had never heard the phrase uttered again after Magic Kindergarten. Instead she found herself asked to recite phrases like 'my magic centers around my talents' and 'if at first you don't succeed, practice, practice, practice': all very good advice, but wasn't it worth repeating that unicorns could cast any spell in the world just by thinking about it the right way? Everywhere she went in Canterlot, she saw advertisements posted for seminars on how to learn a spell to cook your own breakfast, or keep your own lawn trimmed neatly, or keep yourself from snoring at night. Why, just this past week, she had overheard her mother bursting into the house and crying, 'honey, I finally did it!' 'What's that, sweetie?' 'I learned that spell to keep my tail straightened!'

Maybe Mom needs to go back to Magic Kindergarten, Twilight thought with a snicker.

Oh right, exam. She again looked down to Celestial Mechanics. Laid out before her were the laws that governed the movements of the sun, the earth, the stars, every body in the entire universe, expressed in simple ink on paper. It absolutely fascinated Twilight that such huge objects, millions and millions of tons and farther away in space than the edge of pony comprehension, were actually controlled by something: invisible, omnipresent forces strong enough to toss planets across the cosmos on a whim without the help of any unicorn magic whatsoever. Okay, I've been lying to myself, I didn't really bring this book here to study, I'm just trying to calm myself down. And calm her down it did. Even here in this room, about to take a test that would change the rest of her life, she was filled with the same wonder that had enveloped her three years ago, on the first day she saw Celestia raise the sun. That day had marked the beginning of an era for her. Standing in the shadow of the awe-inspiring alicorn flying a hundred feet in the air as the sun's morning rays shone down all around her, she had vowed to herself to strive to be just like Princess Celestia. It was her unspoken daydream that followed her as she attended her lectures at school, studied her textbooks, and lay awake in bed late at night: someday, I'll be the pony raising the sun.

She now knew a lot more about magic than she had back then, knew that it was absurd to think that a unicorn like her could produce even a thousandth of the magical energy needed for such a spell, but it didn't stop her from dreaming. As a matter of fact, the very book laying at her hooves had given her a monumental step toward that impossible goal. It turned out that the concept of 'raising' the sun didn't make any sense at all. The sun was no different than all the other stars in the sky, a gigantic superheated ball of gas millions of miles away that the earth revolved around once a year. It was really much like the earth, with its own rotation, weather patterns and everything. But the earth was a special place unlike any other planet or star known to ponies, a place where magical energy ran supreme. While other cosmic bodies kept spinning and spinning forever, magic tended to slow the earth down until it ground to a standstill; it needed a little push to keep it going. So it was highly improbable that Princess Celestia was actually moving the sun in enormous circles every day; it seemed far more likely that she was simply nudging the earth to keep its angular velocity relatively constant, which would be a much, much easier feat.

Much easier. Yeah right. Now all I have to do is learn how to move six billion trillion tons of rock, and I'll be all set to rule Equestria. In any case, she couldn't help but feel proud of herself for figuring that out, just a little bit.

“Twilight Sparkle.” Twilight jerked her head away from Celestial Mechanics and looked up to the door of the lecture hall, where a tall silvery unicorn magically holding a clipboard was looking directly at her. As were her parents. As was everyone else in the room.

So much for the serene beauty of the cosmos. The terror that she had been fighting back all day crashed into her brain like a meteorite, sending a tremor down her spine to each of her limbs and immediately turning the world around her into a confusing whitish haze. “That's you, honey!” her mother whispered excitedly from somewhere close by.

“I know, I know, I know!” hissed Twilight. With one long, deep breath, she composed herself enough to struggle to her feet and start walking toward the silver unicorn. She was vaguely aware of a chorus of “good luck!” and “go get 'em!” being chanted all around her. Her stomach felt slightly nauseous, but not nearly so much as her brain, which immediately threw up and began regurgitating every fact it could dig up. Princess Celestia has been the ruler of Equestria for exactly 1048 years. The secondary colors of light are cyan, magenta, and yellow. Star Swirl the Bearded was one of history's greatest contributors to magic, inventing two hundred twenty six spells – wait, was it two hundred twenty seven? Had Star Swirl created the Crystal Ball from Thin Air spell, or had Reginald Cantermole done that? Oh no, I didn't study enough! I should have brought something to read besides that stupid physics book –

Too late. After a period of time that somehow seemed both like four seconds and four hours, she was standing outside the dark wooden door, the door that led to the biggest success or the biggest failure of her life.

She looked over her shoulder. A white unicorn filly was shuffling down the hallway in the other direction, accompanied by several older ponies on either side. Judging by the droop in her tail, she had taken the 'biggest failure' route.

So, that makes four out of nineteen. I really hope I can pull through this. Twenty five percent is such a nice round number…

So is twenty percent, I guess.

Her brain wasn't helping matters. She gulped and looked upward to her parents, hoping a for a bit of reassurance from them instead. They both smiled widely, clearly trying to conceal their nervousness, but the widened eyes and increased breath rates on both of them was a dead giveaway. Nope, nothing from them either. She was alone. Just her and her wits.

The wooden door suddenly began to glow a bright yellow and swung open. “Come in,” said a voice whose owner she couldn't see yet.

“Don't forget,” her father whispered, “Third Axiom.”

I am a smart pony, a mechanical voice chanted inside her. Well, that had helped a little bit. With one final breath, she entered.

The examination hall was much like the waiting room, only smaller. Two huge windows towered over her on the wall to the left, stretching from her neck level to the vaulted ceiling. Several ornate banners were hung from above, sporting the school's red-and-yellow colors, framing a rather lonely-looking blackboard equipped with an eraser and two pieces of chalk. To her right sat an array of the same red-backed plush seats, except these were not filled with rowdy ponyfolk from all corners of Equestria. The only ponies making use of these were four unicorns, two male and two female, each equipped with a pencil and clipboard. All four of them were glaring sternly down at her, as though she had just burst in on a very fancy party.

'Smile, smile, smile!' her mother had told her. She looked up at them and pasted a huge, cheesy, 'it's my birthday' grin across her face. All her other smiles had taken the day off on account of being terrified out of her mind, so this would have to do. “Good afternoon,” she said clearly. She wasn't sure if she was being way too soft or way too loud, but it was definitely one of the two. “My name is Twilight Sparkle. I come from –"

“Yes, yes, we know,” drawled the leftmost unicorn. “Your exam will consist of ten questions, followed by a skills test. You may answer the questions either verbally or on the blackboard behind you. Please tell us when you are ready to begin.”

She wasn't ready. Not another day, a week, a year of locking herself in her room to study could make her feel ready. “I'm ready,” she said.

“Question one,” stated the unicorn on the right, a gray-colored male. “List the steps that should be taken when attempting to learn a new spell.”

Twilight blinked; she hadn't seen that coming. It wasn't that the question was outrageous or unfair or anything, she had just expected something a little bit...harder. “Step one, identify a need. Step two, find all relevant material. Step three, practice until success. Step four, ensure there are no side effects. Step five, practice until perfection.” That was absolutely correct, taken verbatim from A Course in Magic, Part Five. She stared up at the proctors with a somewhat more believable smile, hoping for some small piece of approval.

“Question two,” said the gray unicorn. “Describe the process of multiplying together two ponynomials.”

A math question? But she was applying to a magic school! This was completely unfair, why hadn't anyone told her...oh, wait, she knew this too.

“You, uh...” she started. It was a little bit hard to put into words, it would have helped to have a pencil or a pen or...a piece of chalk. Laughing nervously, she turned to face the chalkboard and stared at the black slate surface for a moment, trying to clear her head. The bit of magic she was about to perform would require all of her concentration.

Telekinesis was the basis of all unicorn magic; Twilight had found that once she got into the right mindset, nearly every spell could be reduced to forms of telekinesis, so of course had a great deal of practice doing it. It required a very clear view of what she wanted to move, where it was right now, and where she wanted it to go in the future. It was the third part that made writing so hard: each and every letter had many intricate turns that had to be executed perfectly, lest the whole thing be rendered illegible. On top of that, the chalk had to be exactly the same distance from the board at all times, or it would either break or not make any mark at all.

Twilight had been writing with magic for a couple of years now. Given that such magic wasn't in the standard unicorn curriculum for several more years and she had to practice it all on her own with a little help from her parents, it had taken her a while to get even the basics down; for weeks she had scribbled erratically all over the page, cut deep marks in the paper, and sometimes sent the pencil flying clear across the room. She'd eventually gotten the hang of it though, and now she had a rather elementary, but still legible, script of big block letters. It was a good thing too: how embarrassing would it be if she auditioned at a magic school by writing out math problems with a pencil in her mouth?

Alright, focus. She walked forward until her horn was nearly touching the surface of the blackboard and looked downward. Piece of white chalk, nearly cylindrical. An inch and a half long, a half inch in diameter, weight approximately half an ounce. Distance from the tip of my horn: about six inches in front and twelve inches below. Using numbers wasn't how she had been taught in school, but Twilight loved numbers, and it worked just fine for her. She sent a short burst a magic at the chalk to test her estimations; it rattled softly. Okay, upward at half a foot per second. Move.

With that, she sent a steady flow of magic into her horn, and felt the soft vibrations in the front of her head that any unicorn felt when casting any spell. The chalk stick began to emanate a soft purple light and rose slowly into the air, her eyes carefully following its progress in case it slipped out of her control and fell.

Next came the hardest part. Rotate forty degrees clockwise in the plane of the blackboard. Rotate eighty degrees counterclockwise in the plane of the floor. The chalk was now oriented perpendicular to the board. Move toward the blackboard, slowly. She perked her ears, listening for the telltale tap of chalk against slate. Stop.

Open paren. Now a sort of muscle memory kicked in; she had drawn every character so many times that she no longer needed to give specific instructions to create each one. A large white semicircle had soon appeared on the board. Capital A. Capital X. Plus. Capital B…

Ponynomial multiplication was one of those things that, in her opinion, had no business being taught in any math textbook: it was just too obvious. Her copy of Algebra for Unicorns had spent an entire chapter explaining in excruciating detail the exact formulas for multiplying together ponynomials of degree two, three, and four. There were pages filled with equations such as

(AX+B)(CX+D)=ACX^2+(AD+BC)X+BD
(AX^2+BX+C)(DX+E)=ADX^3+(AE+BD)X^2+(BE+CD)X+CE

...and so forth. Was she actually expected memorize this? It was just a basic application of the distributive rule of multiplication over addition, and the book seemed to have turned it into some voodoo only Star Swirl himself was privileged to comprehend. One the first things Twilight had learned on her quest for knowledge was that if there was logic behind something, she had to understand that logic to understand the thing itself. So important was this realization, in fact, that she had termed it Twilight's First Axiom.

Twilight's Axioms. A set of facts on which she could call whenever she had difficulty approaching a subject. She had gotten the term from one of her early math books; an axiom was a fundamental principle assumed to be true in order to understand everything else. Her mom and dad thought it was a mighty good joke, and had hung the list above their kitchen counter, constantly reminding her of it at every turn. But it wasn't a joke. These were Twilight's Axioms. They were the assumptions she had to make to learn anything. They were how she saw the world.

Twilight's First Axiom: If something makes sense, it can be understood.

“I'm done,” she said, carefully lowering the chalk back into the tray and releasing it. She had simply written out the first few formulas for ponynomial multiplication – not from memory, sweet Celestia not from memory, she had derived them herself on the spot.

“Question three,” began the proctor.

A variety of questions were thrown her way: some about math, some about magic, some about history. All of them covered material well outside of the expected curriculum for a filly her age, and only seemed to get harder as the exam drew on. Yet every time she posed each question to her brain, her brain confidently yielded an answer. Ponynomials weren't the only thing she had wrapped her mind around; mathematical concepts, complicated spells, the basic laws of magic itself, all these things she had brought under the domain of logic using Axiom One. In fact, she had never encountered a single situation where that thought process didn't work.

Twilight's Second Axiom: Everything makes sense.

But there was still one little scrap of fear in the back of her mind. Even as she correctly answered question after question, as she slowly built herself a fortress of confidence, she knew that the skills exam loomed on the horizon. She fearfully imagined a huge gray boulder being rolled out in front of her by several groaning ponies at once; she could almost hear the voice of the proctor instructing, 'lift it'. And she wouldn't be able to. Twilight was simply not a particularly powerful unicorn, and no amount of reading spell books would change that. There weren't any weights to lift or calisthenics to perform to increase her magical output; she was born with a certain amount of power in her horn, and she was stuck with it. It wasn't that she was incredibly weak or anything, she was actually a little above the average...but she wasn't sure if 'a little above average' would cut it at Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.

She remembered seeing one particular colt back in the waiting room. He had been levitating a positively massive rock, at least two hundred pounds, and seemed to be only slightly discomforted by the effort.

She couldn't have done that in a hundred years.

“Question ten.” Twilight inhaled sharply. This was the last one, surely it would be the hardest of all. “Describe the motion of the planets.”

Twilight almost passed out on the spot. A tsunami of elation had washed over her brain, and it took her a few seconds to get any sort of coherent thought in order. Celestial Mechanics! They actually gave me a question about Celestial Mechanics! She hurriedly whipped around and trotted to the blackboard, picked up the chalk in her magical grasp and sketched a large circle. This was probably supposed to be the zinger, the question to tear down the hopes of all the little geniuses, a problem no filly her age could possibly be expected to answer. But she was going to answer it, and her answer was going to be right.

It didn't make any sense, really. How did she of all ponies get here, taking the most difficult academic test for fillies in Equestria and ripping it to pieces? When there were scores of young unicorns everywhere, even in her very class, that carried amounts of magical energy she would never wield, why was she the one reading advanced magic books, casting with minimal effort spells that would take most adults a month to learn? If she didn't have any great power, why was she so powerful?

Twilight's Third Axiom: I am a smart pony.

“Finished.” With a definitive clink, she let the chalk fall into the tray and turned to face the row of professors. They all stared unrelentingly at her, but their visages carried a slightly different tone than before. Did she dare to think they were...impressed?

“That concludes the knowledge portion of the exam,” said the yellow-colored unicorn on the left. “We will now begin the...skills test.” Her horn glowed for a fraction of a second, and a blue double door at the far end of the room swung open.

I can't mess this up now. Not after a knowledge exam like that. Come on, bring out the massive rock. I'll pick it up. Somehow.

An orange earth pony, the first one she had seen in this building today, was wheeling a wooden cart toward her. The cart was topped with a bed of straw, and on top of that sat – Twilight's heart dropped a few inches – a rock. It wasn't as large as she had imagined, though; it was about the size of her head. It also looked rather peculiar, roughly egg shaped and colored purple with purple spots. She didn't think she'd have too much trouble lifting it, if that was what she was expected to do…

She then noticed a poster on the side of the cart. It displayed a picture of the same rock, cut into two pieces and split apart, and in between them...a dragon?

Twilight's eyes widened. A dragon egg! She cast her mental eye back to a book about dragons she'd read years ago, which had included a picture of an egg; yes, this looked exactly the same! She'd never dreamed she'd actually see one in real life, these were really, really rare, and supposedly filled with all sorts of interesting magical properties, like how the dragon hatchlings could actually talk with their mothers from the egg, and how notoriously difficult they were to crack...what was a priceless relic like that doing in a school? Surely a fossil like that belonged in a museum, or at least under the study of some renowned paleontologist.

That's when she saw the egg move. Just a small vibration, enough that it could have been a strong gust of wind that did it, but the air in the room was as still as a frozen lake, and the conclusion was unmistakable. The dragon was alive! This was no fossil, she was actually standing not three feet from a real, live dragon egg. She suddenly felt greatly honored to be where she was. This would surely be the only time in her life she'd ever get to see an object like this, she couldn't wait to tell the rest of her class during show-and-tell…

TWILIGHT, YOU'RE IN AN EXAM! her practical side inwardly screamed.

Oh, right. Placing her wonder aside as best she could, she turned to regard the egg a little more inquisitively. What am I supposed to do with this? It couldn't be something trivial like motion exercises; they could have used a rock for that. And she definitely wasn't supposed to crack it, there was a living, breathing dragon in there, and it took an incredibly powerful unicorn to do that anyway.

Or...was she?

She focused her gaze on the poster again. The egg was definitely cracked, split right down the middle, and the two arrows pointing away from their central axis seemed to confirm that it was meant to be broken. And yet the dragon seemed as alive and healthy as could be portrayed by such a picture.

Am I supposed to...hatch it?

“Well, Miss Sparkle?” the leftmost proctor said in a somewhat bored tone.

Hatch an egg?

Hatch a DRAGON egg?!

Fort Confidence came crashing down, the walls giving way to the tide of sheer panic and tumbling to the ground, leaving behind nothing but a burning pile of rubble. This had to be a joke. Twilight didn't know the first thing about hatching dragons, the only thing she knew was it was an enormously difficult task usually relegated to a whole team of advanced unicorns, and given that the only other unicorns in the room were the ones grading her, she didn't seem to have such a team at her disposal. There was nothing in her brain anywhere that could even get her started. She was only barely able to pull together enough mental coherence to stammer, “I, I, I don't know if, I mean, it's –“

“Miss Sparkle, I will be perfectly honest with you,” drawled the unicorn on the right. “This is not our standard skills test. Princess Celestia herself asked us to administer this test to you specifically. So perhaps you could at least attempt it before giving up immediately?”

“Wait, what?” Twilight blurted aloud without really meaning to. Princess Celestia? Princess Celestia said I could do this?!

I've never even met Princess Celestia!

And by some miracle of the brain, that was what it took to calm her down. Celestia was her idol, the pony she inwardly strove to be like someday. She didn't know the princess, but it seemed that the princess somehow knew her. And whatever she had seen, it had been impressive enough to trust her with this monstrous test. The princess was telling Twilight that she was capable of this, and if that was the case, who was Twilight to argue? If Celestia said she could do it…

...Then maybe Celestia was right.

But still, her princess's confidence alone wasn't going to get her through the infamously thick shell of a dragon's egg. If only she knew how to begin –

Twilight's Fourth Axiom: When in doubt, use Science.

Science was mental shorthand for a textbook called A Short Course on the Scientific Method for Earth Ponies, which currently occupied an honored position on the very top shelf of her personal bookcase. She and that book had been together since Magic Kindergarten; when leaving school one day, she had quite literally found it lying in the street, its gray cover battered and covered in mud. That was like throwing a gorgeous diamond in the trash to Twilight – even if it had no relevance to her, a book was still a book – and she had taken it home with her, intending to clean it up as best as she could, skim through it, then donate it to the library.

By the time she went to bed that night, she had read the entire thing three times, memorized large sections of it word-for-word, painstakingly scrubbed off all the grime until it looked almost new, and drafted a letter to her teacher suggesting that it be immediately incorporated into the unicorn curriculum.

The book was phenomenal. All her textbooks on magic were filled with interesting facts on how magic had progressed to where it was today, how she was supposed to wield it, and so forth, but this one taught her how to think, how to figure out magic for herself. She liked to think that the day Celestia raised the sun was the starting line of her academic journey, but science was the compass that had guided her all along the way. It was the reason she was already learning advanced teleportation spells while most of her class were struggling to magically write their names. Without that book, the rest of the Axioms probably wouldn't even exist. Axiom Four really didn't deserve to be the last one, it should have been the first, but it had already become so deeply ingrained in her mind by the time she started the list that she hadn't even thought of it as an Axiom: to her, it was the just the obvious way to solve big problems.

And there was one whopper of a problem in front of her now. But with Celestia's trust backing her up and the scientific method in her hooves, there was a chance – just a chance – that she could figure something out. She closed her eyes, exhaled slowly, and relinquished control of her thought process to Science. And the wheels began turning.

First, clearly define the problem.

“There is a live dragon egg on a cart in front of me,” she muttered under her breath, softly enough that nopony could hear but herself. “I have to hatch it.” She always did the first step out loud; sometimes there was an obvious solution that just didn't present itself until she heard herself say it. In this case it did nothing but cast another cloud of futility over the situation, but science-mode Twilight wasn't quick to give in to panic.

Next, gather data.

She still didn't know anything about the task ahead of her, and there were no books or teachers at her disposal, so she was stuck with whatever she could discern using her own senses. Taking a step forward, she examined the egg closely. It was the same shape as any other egg, only much larger, about ten inches in height. It was dotted by a series of dark purple spots spread uniformly across its surface. As she watched, it trembled again, as though whatever lay inside was getting restless.

That wasn't much to go off of. Luckily, being a unicorn had its benefits. Knowing what the egg's exterior looked like was useful, but to get the full picture, she needed to know what was happening on the inside. For that, a quick Close Range Scrying Spell would do nicely.

Twilight declined her neck until her horn pointed straight at the egg. She imagined she was trying to telekinetically push it over, but just as the spell reached her horn, she distorted it, enough that the telekinesis would fail. In fact, the magic energy wouldn't do anything at all, and instead would pass straight through the shell, erratically bouncing off of any matter it encountered. She immediately stopped the flow of magic and cleared her mind of any thought whatsoever, leaving a blank slate. In a small fraction of a second, the distorted magic had bounced off of its target and returned to her horn, carrying with it information about whatever it had struck. Her brain quickly and automatically constructed a full three-dimensional representation of the egg's inside, complete with color and data on the interior's temperature and material composition.

Just another spell she wasn't supposed to have any inkling of how to cast for another twenty years.

The baby dragon was huge. It was bent over double inside its tiny prison, its back smashed against one side of the egg while its head, arms, and leg scrunched up against the other. There was hardly any free space inside the egg at all. The shell itself appeared to be incredibly strong and brittle, made of some material Twilight couldn't recognize, but it was substantially weakened by the interior force exerted upon it. If this doesn't mean the dragon's ready to come out, then I don't know what does.

“We don't have all day,” came the bored voice of the yellow unicorn.

Come on Science, hurry up, they're going to fail us if we take much longer and we haven't even tried a single spell yet –

No. This has to be done the right way or it isn't going to work at all. Besides, Princess Celestia herself told them about me, I don't think we're going to get kicked out until we've given this everything we've got.

Alright, fine. But that's all the data we're going to get, can we move on already?

Step three: form a hypothesis.

No matter how much she didn't like it, there seemed to be one clear path before her. She had to crack the egg. There wasn't a complicated magical lock or puzzle of any sort, at least not that she could detect, just an egg and a baby dragon. And surely the extreme pressure of dragon scales pushing against the shell would make the job easier.

So, how would she go about breaking the egg?

The same way she'd go about breaking any other egg.

I hypothesize that this dragon can be hatched using the Simple Yolk Removal spell. It was one of the first spells she could remember seeing performed; her mother had used it frequently whenever she made Twilight's favorite oats-and-grass omelette. Twilight herself had not actually cast it in months, but she didn't expect to receive any trouble from a simple spell like this.

Step four: test the hypothesis.

She stared intently at her target. Dragon egg. Ten inches high, eight inches diameter, about fifteen pounds. Distance from the tip of my horn: twelve inches horizontal. Perform a sinusoidal motion, amplitude a tenth of an inch, sixty hertz. Move. The egg began to shake rapidly, barely moving from its resting place, but enough that she could see the motion by looking closely. Enough that its structural integrity was weakened even further. Enough that a powerful force applied directly to the apex, its weakest point, might be sufficient to shatter it.

Twilight narrowed her eyes and collected all the magical energy she could muster into her horn. This was it. The final moment. Either the egg would splinter into tiny pieces and she'd joyfully run out of the room clutching her acceptance certificate, or it would stand firm and she'd be going back to regular school that fall to learn more about the very basics of spellcasting. On the count of five. One, two, three, four –

The egg lurched sideways. Twilight's concentration and magical grip both broke simultaneously, causing her head to jerk downward as the magical bolt shot out of her horn, struck the broad side of the shell and splashed around it like a gentle wave against a stone fortress.

It was the dragon, struggling back and forth inside its shell, apparently doing its best to ruin her day.

Twilight was physically winded and slightly lightheaded from the exertion of the last spell, but she had to keep trying, she could feel the gazes of the proctors beating down on the back of her neck like the hot sun, she was so close, and no infantile dragon was going to get in her way. Sinusoidal vibration, about a tenth of an inch in amplitude, frequency of sixty – The egg jumped again, this time even more violently. Twilight suddenly found she was out of energy for the moment and let her head hang to the ground, panting heavily.

Is that dragon doing this on purpose?

“Miss Sparkle, you do know that there are others waiting to take this exam?” drawled the voice of one of the proctors.

JUST GIVE ME A MOMENT! she almost screamed out loud. Frustration began to descend upon her, hijacking her train of thought and driving it full-speed into the abyss. There was an impossible task in front of her, and not only did she have to do it with no help and almost no time, but now there was a dragon for her to battle at the same time…

Nothing to get angry at, this is just another scientific problem, we'll solve it like any other. First, define the problem clearly –

The problem?! The problem is that this baby dragon clearly doesn't know what's best for it! You'd think it would want to get out of that tiny egg, but apparently failing me is just too much fun!

Okay...that'll work. Step two, gather data.

Shall I ASK the dragon why it can't sit still, then? She turned to glare angrily at the egg. Listen to me, buddy, I don't know what your problem is, but you're getting hatched today whether you like it or not!

Leave me alone, the baby dragon thought back.

Twilight staggered backward several steps before regaining her balance. Had she finally lost her mind, or was the dragon actually talking to her? She stared at the egg again, trying to imagine it as a full-grown pony, and tentatively thought, excuse me, could you repeat that?

I said, leave me alone, the dragon responded.

It did! It was communicating with her thoughts, in fluent Equestrian no less! This was incredible, Twilight had never read about anything like it – well, the book had said that dragons could communicate with their hatchlings, but she'd figured that was on some metaphorical level, nothing like actual direct telepathy...It was getting really, really hard to focus on the exam. Tell me everything you know, she thought excitedly. Surely a magical being like this knew about all sorts of secret magic, she had to find out everything she could –

What part of 'leave me alone' don't you get?

Well, can you at least tell me how many spells Star Swirl the Bearded created?

Either two hundred twenty six or two hundred twenty seven, I'm not sure, now go away.

Twilight blinked; this was getting more amazing by the moment. What were the odds that an unhatched baby dragon had exactly the same gaps in its knowledge of magical history as herself?

Precisely zero percent, she realized.

So the dragon wasn't talking to her. Really now, it had been absurd to even consider that an unborn baby could speak a language that it had obviously never even heard before. But no, it was definitely communicating with her some level, she could feel the annoyance in its thoughts, that wasn't something she was making up herself.

Which meant it was speaking to her...using emotions?

This was a baffling problem indeed. Which to Twilight was the same as saying it was a problem for science.

I hypothesize that the dragon is projecting its feelings into my mind, and I am doing the same to it, and somehow my subconscious is translating the dragon's thoughts into words, and the other way around.

It did seem a little bit silly, now that she'd put it into words. But to be fair, it wasn't any sillier than the idea that a grade-school filly could hatch a dragon egg in the first place. She would just have to test it a little more thoroughly.

Step four – One of the male proctors coughed loudly, snapping Twilight back to the reality of where she was. Step four, test the hypothesis by figuring out how to make it calm down and stop shaking the egg!

Unfortunately, Twilight wasn't very good with emotions. She had spent so much of her life alone with her books that soothing another being with nothing but her feelings was going into uncharted territory. The dragon was clearly annoyed, which meant something was bothering it, and the proper response to that was...affectionate concern?

I'm very sorry for bothering you. Can you tell me what's wrong? she thought in as kind a tone she could.

I'm afraid.

Yes, it's working! No, she had to stifle thoughts like that, pompous excitement wasn't going to get the dragon on her side. What are you afraid of?

I'm afraid of making friends.

And then a very odd sensation consumed Twilight's senses. A shiver ran down her back from head to tail; her ears became filled with a loud ringing noise; her eyes suddenly lost their focus on the egg and floated listlessly toward the ceiling; her brain was overcome by a sudden rush of dizziness. It was as though her mind was trying to reject the thought that had been unwelcomely forced upon it. It was true, she didn't have as many friends as the other fillies her age. Well...okay, she didn't really have any at all. But it certainly wasn't because she was afraid of them, she just didn't have the time for friends, she was far too busy studying and reading and making herself smarter to bother with such things, that was all. Besides, the thought hadn't even come from her, it had come from the dragon. But then why had it bothered her so jarringly?

No, the thought did come from you, said the voice of Science. According to the current hypothesis, the dragon projected the emotion of fear into your subconscious, and your subconscious constructed the thought itself. So we need to find out exactly which fears the dragon has and try to quench them.

That made sense enough. So...what would an overgrown baby dragon trapped in an egg be afraid of? She could think of at least one obvious answer.

Are you afraid of the world outside your shell? she thought.

No. I'm afraid of making friends.

Twilight's subconscious could be really mean sometimes.

The world is a wonderful place, she continued unabashedly. There are all kinds of amazing sights to see and sounds to hear and scents to smell. If you'll just stop shaking and let me free you from that egg, I'll let you see for yourself.

I'm afraid of making friends. Making friends requires interaction with ponies I do not know or understand. I'm afraid of things I don't understand.

Hot blood began to rush into Twilight's face, turning it a lush shade of magenta. Listen here subconscious, if you don't cut that out we're going straight to the library to read a bunch of Edgar Allen Poeny stories and have nightmares all night long!

Her subconscious didn't answer. So now she could add her own brain to list of entities trying to ruin this exam. But she had to remain scientific, there had to still be a way to calm the dragon down…

I think we're missing a key point here, thought Science. You're not communicating with the dragon, you're communicating with yourself. These fake emotions you're concocting don't mean anything to you, so they don't mean anything to it either. You're going to have to find out why you're so afraid of friendship to succeed.

But I'm NOT afraid of friendship! Twilight retorted.

Yes you are. Your subconscious says so.

No, I'm not, I never even think about it –

Suddenly Twilight was very aware of a corner of her mind that she had deliberately shut out from her internal discussions. A corner that was desperately hungry for the companionship of other fillies her age. Every time she walked past her classmates chatting amicably or playing twenty-square hopscotch together, it caused her to glance yearningly in their direction before it was forcefully shoved aside by the rest of her brain, because the rest of her brain was...scared?

Do we need friends? she tentatively asked this neglected figment.

YES! it screamed with a ferocity that left her head spinning. Do you see how happy all the fillies are with each other? Do you see how much fun they have? We could be having fun too! Can we go find some friends now? Please?

She'd had these thoughts bottled up inside her for years and never noticed them?

But it's a complete waste of time! retorted Common Sense, a third aspect of her conscious that had been chiefly responsible for the exclusion of Friendship from her mental forum. We have so many books to read, so many spells to learn! How is having a bunch of other ponies hanging around going to help us?

Friends can pick us up when we fall down! said Friendship. When we're bored or scared or lonely or angry, they're somepony we can always go to! And most of all, we could have FUN with them! Don't you at least want to try having fun, just for once?

For a moment, Common Sense seemed to be without an answer. Science, why don't you explain what I'm talking about?

Well, said Science, there seems to be quite a bit of cognitive dissonance going around in here. However, I think Friendship may have a point –

But...but you always side with me! stammered Common Sense.

We don't know anything about anypony but ourself. And it seems likely that communication with them could yield some very interesting results. And this concept of 'fun' does seem intriguing. Why should we not seek out relationships? Are you afraid?

Common Sense was too embarrassed to respond.

Alright, thought Twilight with a tone of finality, I'm afraid of making friends.

And in that moment, as Friendship broke free from its prison in the basement of her consciousness and gleefully flooded over her mind, she felt a range of emotions that she hadn't felt in a very long time. Fear. Loneliness. Envy of all the other fillies and the connections they shared. Hope that one day she could share those connections too.

But Common Sense wasn't ready to give up quite yet. How do we even go about making friends? It's entirely different than anything we've ever tried to learn before, how can we even hope to understand –

First Axiom, chanted several of her mind's voices in a chorus. In her world, the Axioms were the law.

But the way the other fillies talk to each other doesn't even make sense! They just sit around for hours and hours, chatting about nothing –

Second Axiom.

But...but...even if making friends does make sense, how can we be sure we'll be able to figure out –

Third Axiom.

Fine. You win, Friendship.

That was a monumental juncture in itself; Common Sense never lost debates.

Twilight turned to face the egg once more. There was no need to determine which emotion to display anymore, the words came straight from her heart. I know how you feel. It can be scary to think about the outside world...ah, I mean, making friends...oh, who was she kidding, they were one and the same to her...but that doesn't mean you should run away from it. There are all kinds of wonderful things friends can do for you, and I don't even know what all of them are, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth it to find out.

It took a couple of seconds for the true meaning of the words Twilight had thought to sink in. There was a whole dimension of life foreign to her, that she had unthinkingly shied away from in truly unscientific fashion, but now that she had overcome that mental barrier, a realm of possibilities unfolded itself before her. It was almost as though she were seeing the world again for the very first time.

Just as she recollected her thoughts, the dragon responded. I'm also lonely. Will you be my friend?

And in that moment, Twilight realized that the thoughts pouring in through her subconscious were more than just a challenge set up by the exam proctors. They were coming from a dragon, a real dragon with real feelings, a dragon that violently resisted any attempt to extract it from its shell because it was terrified of what lay outside. This must be what it meant to be a friend. It meant understanding the fears and hardships of another, and helping to work through them.

I think...she thought shakily, I think I'm already your friend, little dragon. I still don't know exactly what that means, but I have to say, I'm really excited to find out. Let's explore this new world, together.

A moment of silence, and then – Alright, I'm ready to come out.

The egg lay before her, as still as a rock at the bottom of the ocean.

Twilight's eyes began to water up, even as she meticulously listed the dimensions of the egg to herself and began to rattle it once again. It hardly mattered to her that she was about to pass the most difficult exam in Equestria. She had made her first friend that day, a friend who had needed her support, and she had given it to him. Just that little piece of knowledge brought her more joy than all the books she had ever read. And now she was going to help her new friend one more time. Sparks began to fly out of the tip of her horn as she threw the whole of her heart, mind, and body into the final stage of the Simple Yolk Removal spell, which manifested itself perfectly above the tip of the egg and crushed downward with the force of a hurricane –

And splashed.

And suddenly Twilight was standing in the middle of an examination hall, with four pairs of impatient eyes peering down at her, staring at an egg that she could not crack.

She was done. Every ounce of her magical energy had been expended in that spell, she knew she couldn't possibly cast it again, she doubted she could even lift the chalk sitting on the blackboard. Even with all of her knowledge, her intelligence, her spellcasting repertoire, and the engine of Science bringing them all together into a perfect machine of brilliance, there was one obstacle she had failed to overcome: her lack of raw magical power. Many of the other fillies waiting to take the exam had it, but she did not. And without it, she could never become truly great.

She didn't belong at Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.

“I'm sorry I wasted your time,” she mumbled, staring at the ground as she desperately tried to fight back her tears. I'm sorry, professors. I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry, Mom.

I'm sorry, baby dragon.

I'm sorry, Princess Celestia.

And then, as she began to tread back toward her parents, her eyes were flooded by a brilliant light, all the colors of the rainbow, shining directly into her brain and washing away any semblance of coherent thought she had left. “Eep!” she shrieked in fear and confusion, as an odd, tingling feeling swept over her face, as though some immense source of power had suddenly been unlocked, a power that forced itself into her mind, mixed with the spell she had most recently cast, and shot out through her horn –


…....…


“I'm sorry, Miss Wand,” said Professor Pranceton, “But I do not think you are a good fit for this school.”

The filly standing before him, an extremely young white unicorn with a short yellow mane and tale, hung her head dejectedly, dropped the chalk she had been holding in her mouth onto the floor, and walked back to her parents. He could hear them gently consoling her as the wooden door swung shut.

Pranceton was now alone in the examination room. For the first time in hours and hours, he stood up from his chair and stretched gray, aching legs, heaving a sigh of relief. That had been an extremely long examination day, by far the longest Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns had ever seen; he normally finished in plenty of time to eat dinner, yet the pale moon had been shining through the window for nearly an hour. All three of his colleagues had taken their leave of the school long ago, but as Pranceton was blessed with the unfortunate title of Head of Admissions, he was given the honor of staying well into the night to administer the remaining tests by himself. Now he simply needed to wait until Celestia arrived to give her his report for the day, and he could get some well-deserved sleep.

He magically picked up the stack of acceptance paperwork from his desk and began to rifle through it. Twenty four unicorns had been accepted to the school that day, about a quarter of the total applicant pool. There were a few toward the end who had performed at a rather mediocre level and gotten in purely on the merits of Pranceton's fatigue, but he couldn't be bothered to care. He glanced at each child's picture in turn, trying to recall how each had sufficiently impressed him and his colleagues to earn his or her place in the school; however, his mind was mostly just building up anticipation for the one he knew would be coming up toward the middle.

At last he reached the page in question. Twilight Sparkle. The tiny purple filly who had entered the room with no acceptance letter, no cutie mark, and no baby dragon, and had walked out with all three. Pranceton had seen a lot of smart fillies in his time at the school, but this one...this one was really something else.

It wasn't the sudden surge of magic that had trapped him in a Continuous Levitation Spell and turned the filly's parents into potted plants that impressed him so deeply. Baby unicorns displayed completely unpredictable blasts of power all the time; it was a well understood phenomenon. It was, perhaps, somewhat rare to see such an occurrence in a filly as old as this one, but it wasn't unheard of. Why, Pranceton had seen young unicorns perform all kinds of amazing feats, such as filling the castle fountain with alligators and teleporting Celestia's personal throne to the top of a tree.

But none had ever hatched a baby dragon. That was impossible. It took a lifetime of study to even attempt such a task; no filly could just walk into a room and do it without an enormous amount of help and preparation.

But she had both of those things, didn't she? Pranceton grinned to himself; he had figured out what was going on here. Celestia was playing one of her pranks on him and his colleagues. Why else would she have suggested such an absurd task for this particular filly? Obviously the princess had been tutoring Twilight on the art of hatching dragons for weeks, probably months, perhaps even years. And then there was the fact that the newly born dragon had begun crying inconsolably the moment Twilight had started to leave, and could not be stopped for anything, until Celestia had been compelled to give it to her. Surely she wouldn't trust such a dangerous, fragile creature with a filly she didn't know exceedingly well. On top of that, Twilight had even received her cutie mark during the process; it wasn't one that he recognized, but for all he knew, it was the mark for Dragon Hatching Master.

“Celestia, you clever rascal,” he chuckled to himself.

“I beg your pardon?” said Celestia from the doorway.

Pranceton gasped and whirled around, his face instantly turning a much lighter shade of gray than normal. The princess towered over him, her discontented expression scalding him like a skillet of french fried hay. “P-p-princess! I didn't mean, I didn't mean that, I-I just wanted to say –"

Celestia broke into a mirthful laugh. “Oh, don't worry yourself, Pranceton. I assure you I take it as a compliment. Now, I believe you have a new class of gifted fillies to introduce to me?

“Oh, yes, of course,” said Pranceton, feeling rather relieved. He levitated the stack of papers that he had dropped on the floor and sent it over to the princess. “We have twenty four new students at the school. Each one was thoroughly tested for both their knowledge and abilities, and displayed an exceptional grasp of magic. They will all become very fine young scholars, I'm sure.”

“My, that certainly is a lot!” exclaimed Celestia. The aura surrounding the papers changed hue from gray to white as she accepted them and glanced at the first one. “Any particular reason you've chosen to leave this one on top?”

“Who, Twilight Sparkle?” asked Pranceton. “Why wouldn't I place her on top? She has to be the most amazing filly ever to enter the doors of this school after what she's accomplished today!”

“Can't say I disagree with you there.” Celestia lifted her eyes to meet Pranceton's, a playful smile on her face. “If I may change the subject, may I ask what I did to deserve the honorable title of clever rascal?”

“Well...” stammered Pranceton, “to be honest, I don't think Twilight could have hatched that egg today without help from somepony. And, um, it did seem a little strange that you would give such a difficult test to such a small filly, so I guessed that you were playing a joke on us by training her to hatch it and not telling us. And if I'm right, then let me tell you, you certainly did get me! I haven't been that surprised in decades!”

“I suppose that does seem like the sort of thing I would do,” replied Celestia. Her mirthful smile had dampened slightly; she seemed more pensive than anything. “It hardly matters at this point, but how did Twilight perform on the knowledge test?”

“Perfect score,” Pranceton said bluntly. “Only filly all day to do that. That alone would've been enough to get her an acceptance letter, even if she hadn't hatched that dragon.”

Celestia didn't answer right away; she seemed to be deep in thought. For some reason, her smile appeared to have weakened even further. “Tell me something, Pranceton. What if I were to tell you that Twilight Sparkle has never had any experience with dragon eggs to the best of my knowledge, she has never received instruction from me of any kind, and part of the reason I wanted her to try to hatch that egg was because I failed to do so myself?”

Pranceton laughed heartily. “I'd tell you to lock her up in the castle's deepest dungeon and throw the key in a river, because a unicorn that powerful will have overthrown you and conquered Equestria by the end of the year.”

The smile was now completely gone from Celestia's face, replaced by an expression of abject horror. “Oh no, I'm so sorry!” sputtered Pranceton. What had he said to get that kind of reaction? “I didn't mean that at all, it's just that you were joking around, so I told a joke too, I didn't mean that you should actually...”

With visible effort, Celestia forced a grin. “You're right, it was just a joke. I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable.” She glanced out the window at the rising moon. “Well, it's been a very long day for me, and I'm sure it's been an even longer one for you. You should go home and get some rest.” With that, she turned her back to him and began to head out the door.

Pranceton watched as her dazzling multicolored mane swept around the corner. A growing feeling of uneasiness had taken hold of him. “Princess, you...you were joking, right?”

Princess Celestia left the room.

> Chapter Two - Hayley's Comet
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was running, running through Ponyville. She couldn't quite recall why, but something extremely important was happening, and she had to get to where it was as quickly as possible. Her friends were there as well: Rainbow Dash was behind her, and Pinkie Pie, and Applejack too. They were all running as fast as their legs would carry them, running to the center of Ponyville, where something extremely important was going on...

Ponyville was under attack. A new pony had entered town, a pony more evil than any she had ever before encountered, a pony that would soon destroy the entire city – no, destroy all of Equestria – unless it was stopped. And as a bearer of an Element of Harmony, it was her duty to defend the town from any threat against it.

At last, she and her friends reached the center of town. Dark, billowing clouds hung low over the square, turning what had been a pleasant day into a horrible night. The grass all around was charred black, as though a fire had ravaged the city just moments before. All around them, ponies were screaming, scattering in all directions, desperately trying to get away. And in the center of it all, surrounding by a ghastly aura of dark magic, stood Nightmare Moon.

...No. It wasn't Nightmare Moon. It was Twilight.

Rainbow Dash took to the air and shot toward the purple unicorn; with a whimsical wave of her horn, Twilight sent the pegasus crashing through the brick wall of a nearby house. Applejack reared her head and charged forward, but didn't even make it to within ten feet before she was lifted into the air and thrown backward several yards, where she lay motionless on the ground. She simply stood where she was, captivated by the terrifying display of magic from the unicorn who had once been her friend. She couldn't even find her voice to try to reason with her. Suddenly, she was shoved from behind; she whipped her around, only to see Pinkie, breathing heavily from the exertion of pushing her out of the way, as an enormous tree plummeted from the sky and crushed her.

And Twilight stood where she had been the entire time, gazing back at her, her eyes literally glowing with magical power.

“WHY?” she finally managed to scream. Her face was drenched in tears, more tears than she'd cried before in her life. “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!”

Twilight didn't answer. She merely lifted her horn skyward and cast a spell, which rocketed toward her so quickly that she didn't have time to even think about evading, and her vision filled with a brilliant light – 

“Augh!!” shrieked Rarity as she bolted upright in her four-poster bed. It was very early in the morning, just a few minutes past dawn; a beam of sunlight peered through a crack in the curtain and shone directly across her eyes. She winced from the sudden onslaught of light and sunk back into her mattress, throwing the covers over her face, and began to collect her thoughts.

That had been a horrifying dream. Of course she had nightmares from time to time, just like any other pony, but they usually featured her favorite dresses getting torn up or Sweetie Belle permanently moving into the boutique. But she had just witnessed Twilight Sparkle killing all of her friends. She reluctantly allowed her mind to gloss back over the scene: the blackened grass all around city hall, the billowing swathe of pure magical power surrounding her unicorn friend, and worst of all, those horrid, glowing eyes...

It was just a dream, Rarity told herself adamantly. Yet somehow the details seemed to growing clearer as time passed, instead of fading away into murkiness. It didn't feel like a dream at all, more like a vision, even a prophecy – 

It was just a dream. I shall think no more of it. With a heavy sigh, she pushed the covers to one side and rolled onto her feet, blinking furiously as her eyes adjusted to the light. Based off of the sliver of cloudless sky she could see through the window, it was shaping up to be a gorgeous day. She was absolutely not about to waste it fretting about a silly little nightmare.

She glanced at her full-length mirror leaning against the wall, and recoiled slightly at the frazzled, unkempt mess of a pony that stared back at her. She also wasn't about to spend the day walking around looking like that. Sweeping up a brush with her magic, she began methodically smoothing out the kinks in her mane and tail, trying to achieve at least some degree of presentability.

What would she spend the day doing, anyway? Just to the left of the mirror hung a large-print, full-year calendar on which she wrote all of her engagements as she made them. Rarity very much enjoyed having all the day's events plotted out before her in once place; she could hardly imagine how other ponies did without such a thing, planning out their day entirely in their head and probably missing half of it. The calendar currently displayed the entire month of June...which she was fairly sure had just ended yesterday. Why, yes, today was the first of July. She tore the sheet off the wall and set it neatly on a nearby stack of similar pages. The month of July was now laid out before her in an array of black-and-white squares, many of them already filled with her handwriting, and she focused her attention on the first one.

July 1st: Renovations for Zecora. Ah, yes – Rarity's heart sank a notch as she remembered. Zecora had come to visit Ponyville some number of days ago to purchase a hammer, some planks, and a saw. As the zebra had explained, a lightning storm had severely damaged her hut, ripped off a good portion of the roof, and deposited a small tree directly into her living room.  Applejack had immediately insisted that she help with the cleanup, to bring some 'modern engineering know-how' to the reconstruction, as she had put it. Twilight had quickly volunteered to come along, and one way or another, all six of them had ended up being enlisted in the project. In Rarity's case, manual labor in the middle of the Everfree Forest hardly fit with her idea of a perfect day. On the other hoof, the forest was quite lovely this time of year, and she'd have all her closest friends to chat with the entire time. Yes, she would choose to focus on the bright side, as she always did; it never failed to make circumstances more pleasant.

Putting the finishing touches to her tail and mane, she scanned the rest of the calendar for any upcoming events of notable importance. The rest of the week seemed to be rather run-of-the-mill, just a few scribbles about dress orders she needed to fulfill and a luncheon with a couple of her friends, and then – 

July 8th: Hayley's Comet.

Her heart jumped right back up again, and then climbed another four or five notches to boot. Hayley's Comet! How could she have forgotten? Twilight had told her all about it weeks ago: Hayley's Comet passed by the earth only once every seventy-five years or so. Rarity had seen several comets as a filly; they were absolutely gorgeous, some of the most awe-strikingly beautiful objects to grace the sky. But while most comets were constructed from rock and melting ice, this particular one was made of magic. Every time it passed, it shed its power over the whole of Equestria, increasing the magical capabilities of unicorns everywhere many times, perhaps tenfold, or more! And on the night of July 8th, one week from today, she too would experience this great power.

Rarity's imagination kicked into top gear. Why, this would require planning! She couldn't let herself fritter the night away performing random acts of magic, she needed to do something magnificent. Perhaps she could coordinate a great gem hunting expedition; her Gem Location Spell could normally only detect them within a few inches of the surface, but with the power of Hayley's Comet, there was no telling how many precious jewels she could find. But no, that seemed an awful lot like work. This was no time for work: this called for a party! Of course she would get Pinkie's help to organize it, and Applejack could supply the refreshments, and she'd need to get Twilight involved too, because what would a magic party be without the Element of Magic...

...What were Twilight's plans for Comet Night, anyway?

That question interested Rarity even more than her own ideas. Twilight was already an extraordinarily talented unicorn, many times more powerful than herself. Surely she had something absolutely incredible arranged for Comet Night. If the two of them planned something together, they could make it a night nopony in Ponyville would ever forget.

Rarity gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror and headed out the door, trotting animatedly down the stairs to the ground floor of her boutique. She'd made up her mind: she would start her day by paying Twilight a visit. They would spend some quality time together, just the two unicorns, and later on they would meet up with the rest of their friends and head out to Zecora's hut. She reached the bottom of the staircase, opened the front door, and walked into the great outdoors.

As the view from her window had suggested, it was a beautiful summer day. Rarity loved summer, just like anypony. It was certainly the prettiest time of year, not just in terms of the wildlife and atmosphere, but also in terms of fashion. As she made her way toward the library, she passed several of her neighbors, many of whom were wearing dresses for one purpose or another, some of which she had made herself. The fashion trends during the colder months of the year were dictated by an overarching need to keep warm, which led to rather simple, bulky clothing that Rarity had to admit she was not particularly fond of. But in the summer, that restriction was gone, and the sole purpose of her dressmaking was to bring out the natural beauty in each pony that entered her shop. Just the way it should be.

After a short, cheerful walk, she arrived at Twilight's library. It was only then that she realized how young the morning still was. The sun lingered just above the horizon, still red enough that she could look directly into it without squinting. It couldn't be any later than eight o'clock. How could she be sure that Twilight was even awake at this hour? They had the entire week to discuss their plans for Comet Night, it wasn't so important that they start right away that she should lose sleep over it. But then again, Rarity had just walked across town to see her. She elected to knock on the door, as softly as she could; if nobody answered, she would return to her boutique and come back later.

But as she approached the red, wooden door, it quickly became apparent that Twilight was not, in fact, asleep. There were voices emanating from within the library, several voices at that, and they sounded quite excited about something. Who else could possibly be visiting Twilight this early? Curious, Rarity pressed an ear to the wood.

“Ooh, ooh, I know! You could make, like, a HUGE rainbow! The biggest one ever, all the way from here to Canterlot –“

“Oh come on, Pinkie! You want Twilight to spend the biggest night of her life making rainbows? Besides, I can make a sonic rainboom whenever I want, what's the big deal?”

“Silly, you've only pulled off a sonic rainboom twice!”

“That doesn't mean I can't do it! I could do rainbooms every day of the week if I felt like it!”

“You know, Twilight, it would be really nice if you could stop weeds from growing in my garden. That is, if you already know how, I wouldn't want you to go through the trouble of learning a new spell...”

“Trouble? Are you kidding? Find her that spell and she'll learn it in ten seconds flat, and if you can't find it she'll invent one herself!”

“Oh Spike, stop it...”

Rarity cleared her throat loudly and pushed the door open. The dimly lit interior of the library greeted her, towering shelves filled with books of all shapes and sizes placed against every inch of wall space. Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, and Spike stared back at her, all surrounding Twilight, who had her nose buried in a book.

“What's up, Rarity?” said Dash. “You here to find out what Twilight's doing for Hayley's Comet too?”

Rarity was still taken aback at the sheer number of ponies in the room. “As a matter of fact, I am, although I didn't expect to see so many of you to be doing the same thing.”

“I'm surprised the whole town isn't in here!” Spike exclaimed. “There's just a week until Twilight gets superpowers, ponies are going to be lining up to ask her for favors. She won't get too overwhelmed, though, I'll make sure of that.” He threw his tiny arms out to both sides and backed up until he was touching Twilight, who didn't appear to be focusing too heavily on her book; it seemed more like she was trying to keep herself out of the center of attention as much as possible. “Everyone leave Twilight alone!” he shouted mockingly. “Superponies need their rest too!”

Pinkie and Dash laughed at the diminutive dragon as Rarity felt a hint of indignation rising inside her. She might not know as much magic as Twilight, but she was still a fairly competent unicorn; didn't she deserve a little bit of attention herself?

“I was here first, I get dibs!” shouted Pinkie. “And I still say that until Twilight turns my house into a giant cupcake, all your other tiny, insignificant needs are gonna have to wait!”

“Why would you want your house turned into a cupcake?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“Well she can't use your house, silly, because your house is a cloud, the cupcake would fall a gajillion feet and splatter everywhere –“

“Ahem!” coughed Rarity, prompting every pony in the room to look at her. She held her head high, proudly displaying her horn for all to see. “I might remind you that I too am a unicorn, and as such my magic shall also be enhanced on the night of comet. And if any of you would like a favor, I would be quite happy to help you in any way I can.”

Dash rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you're a great unicorn and all, but Twilight is like, the most powerful unicorn in Equestria! We won't need any help from you as long as she's around!”

Rarity's indignation boiled over into rage. “Well, I suppose the fact that Twilight can lift larger rocks than I can means that I might as well chop off my horn and repurpose it as a cooking utensil!”

“Oh Rarity, I would love to hear about your plans for Comet Night,” said Fluttershy kindly.

“I –“ started Rarity. She'd forgotten that as of now, she didn't actually have any plans for Comet Night. “I...I shall...I shall decorate city hall! Yes, I will acquire as many gems and fabrics as I can, and magically enhance their beauty, and turn city hall into a gorgeous spectacle the likes of which Ponyville has never seen!” She stared menacingly at Twilight, who quickly turned away and took a step backward. “And it will be more dazzling than anything Twilight could possibly create! Isn't that right?”

“Of course, of course!” said Twilight hurriedly. “I could never make something as pretty as you could! Although I could just cast a quick Want-It-Need-It spell on my library and everypony would think it was the greatest thing ever, but obviously that would be cheating –“

“MRRRRG!” snarled Rarity. She whirled around in a huff and began walking back toward the door as Rainbow Dash and Spike fell to the ground in fits of raucous laughter. Her face had assumed the color of the red part of Dash's mane. She knew that none of them meant any harm, that Fluttershy had tried to say something nice and Twilight hadn't wanted to say anything at all and Rainbow Dash was just being Rainbow Dash, but she still had her pride to consider. She would merely spend some time wandering about by herself until she cooled down, and perhaps in the future her friends would think twice before belittling her magical abilities...

But the door swung open before she reached it, and she found her path blocked by a very strange-looking pony. Her mane was completely covered by a large yellow helmet and her eyes were shielded by a gaudy pair of goggles, making it quite impossible to identify her by her face. The pony's orange-colored coat was mostly obscured by a tacky yellow vest, which sported a number of pockets along the sides, some of which were occupied by hammers, short wooden sticks, and lengths of rope. The vest stretched from the base of the pony's neck to the tip of her cutie mark, three red apples in close proximity – 

“Applejack?” asked Rarity, startled.

“Well of course it's me!” said Applejack cheerfully, lifting a hoof to adjust her goggles. “Sorry I'm late, I didn't expect that y'all would want to get started so early!”

“Get started? Whatever do you mean –“ Rarity suddenly remembered; they were fixing up Zecora's hut today. “Oh, you're not late at all, we were just talking about something else. But, Applejack, dear...what are you wearing?”

“What, this?” Applejack gestured at the apparel concealing most of her face. “This here is my hard hat and safety goggles. I take it you don't like 'em?”

“They're...” Hideous! she almost said. “...peculiar, to say the least. Dear, are you sure this is proper attire for visiting Zecora?”

“Visiting Zecora? Rarity, I ain't visiting nopony, I'm off to fix a house! And I'm sure as hay not about to do it without the proper equipment!”

“Yes, but is it really necessary that –“

“You've never done any real construction before, that's for sure,” Applejack asserted. “You do realize that we gotta move a whole tree clear outta Zecora's living room? There's gonna be all kinds of junk falling from the sky, and the dust'll be pretty bad too. The most important rule of construction: safety first.” She turned and trotted back outside. “Come on out and suit up! I brought enough for all of ya!”

Rarity stepped backward so quickly she almost tripped over her own hoof. There was no way Applejack was going to convince her to put one of those horrid things on. “Fluttershy, I don't suppose you'd have any use for an extra set of safety equipment?”

Fluttershy turned somewhat white and backed herself into a corner. “Oh, no, I don't think I can wear those. Someone else can have mine too, if they want...”

“I've got my Pinkie Sense!” giggled Pinkie, dramatically shaking her tail back and forth. “I don't need a silly hat to keep me safe from falling stuff. It's all yours, Rainbow Dash!”

“Are you kidding me?” exclaimed Dash. “That's pretty much the most uncool outfit I've ever seen! You'd have to be absolutely crazy to put on something like that –“

“So this helmet dissipates the impact from falling debris?” asked Twilight, already halfway out the door. “That's fascinating! I wonder why I never thought of something like that before...”

“Oh, this I have to see,” chuckled Dash, trotting after Twilight. After a few moments, another fit of laughter erupted from outside. “Hahaha! You've always been an egghead, but now you look the part too!”

“Ooh, let me see!” shouted Pinkie. She bounced out the door, followed closely by Spike.

Rarity gazed at the open doorway and heaved a sigh. It seemed to finally be time to begin the day's work. She still wasn't particularly happy about it, but Zecora really did need their help, and that was enough to keep her at least somewhat positive about the ordeal.

“Um, Rarity,” said Fluttershy's voice from behind her. “I'm really, really sorry for making you upset earlier.”

Remorse slammed into Rarity like a tidal wave. “Oh, that wasn't your fault at all, dear,” she said hurriedly, turning to face her friend. “I was just being silly, overreacting about nothing. I've already forgotten it.”

Fluttershy simpered. “Thanks,” she murmured, and walked past Rarity to the door.

Rarity was now alone in the library. She suddenly remembered that her goal for the morning had been to organize a truly unforgettable event for the night of Hayley's Comet with Twilight, and to that end, the morning had been a complete and utter failure. But it wasn't of any great importance; she still had all week to hold that discussion, and in the meantime, there was a zebra in the forest who needed her help. Taking one last wistful look around the cozy atmosphere of the indoors that she wouldn't see again until that evening, she headed outside to face the day.
> Chapter Three - Not Magic Alone
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The climate within the Everfree Forest stood in stark contrast to the warm, sunny day in Ponyville. Inside the forest, the seasons changed independently of the rest of the world; while Ponyville was in the full heat of summer, the forest was well on its way through autumn, and about thirty degrees cooler. Nopony in the construction expedition had dressed for this chilly weather (with the exception of Applejack, who took several opportunities to disdainfully point this out to all the ponies who had so recently mocked her hat and vest), and they simply had to endure the cold, silently shivering and hoping that it would grow warmer as the day progressed. On top of the unfortunate weather, the ambient atmosphere was dark and murky, and carried the unpleasant scent of rotting wood. The trees and bushes all around rustled unnaturally, as though there was always something watching them, ready to pounce if they so much as let their guard down for a moment. Some of the ponies were tired, some were frightened, and all of them were uncomfortable. If anypony among them had openly stated that the forest was her favorite area in all of Ponyville, the rest would have declared her to be absolutely nuts.

But for one pony in the group, the Everfree Forest was the best place in Ponyville.

Because when she looked at the Everfree Forest, she saw more than the endless sea of trees, or the fearsome monsters that lurked within, or the uncanny sense of dread that seemed to linger everywhere.

When she looked at the Everfree Forest, Twilight Sparkle saw questions.

The seasons in the forest were out of phase with the rest of world, and didn't require intervention from ponies to change. Why? They were rigorously scheduled in every other part of Equestria and didn't change at all without the help of weather, magic, and farming teams, why should just this forest be any different?

And there was even stranger magic than than that at work within these woods: for example, there were reports of ponies wandering into the forest and going missing for days and days on end, and suddenly emerging just when the town believed them lost forever, thinking that they had merely been gone for a few minutes on a quick stroll. How? How could a pony's very perception of time be manipulated so, and without intervention from any unicorn?

On top of all that, there was the collection of horrifying creatures that called the forest their home, hydras and manticores and cockatrices and who knew what else, monsters that could surely destroy Ponyville in an instant if they wanted to, but they almost never left the forest, as if some invisible force was holding them back. What? Who or what could be powerful enough to control the wills of so many powerful beasts?

The questions rushed through Twilight's mind like a stampede of buffalo, and she couldn't contrive a satisfactory answer to a single one of them. But that was what made the forest so beautiful in her eyes. It was a whole different world, a nearly bottomless well of questions, questions that seemed so ridiculous to most ponies that they weren't even worth pondering. But they were still questions, and questions could be answered. And with the Axioms at her disposal, they were questions that one day could be answered by her.

That was what Twilight saw when she looked at the Everfree Forest.

Or at least that's what she would have seen, if there hadn't been a hard hat and pair of safety goggles obscuring the vast majority of her field of vision, making it so that she could barely see the ponies in front of her without rudely bumping into them.

I'll bet you're glad you accepted these now, Common Sense commented dryly.

We couldn't have possibly turned them down! retorted Friendship. Can you imagine how sad Applejack would be if we had? I mean, everypony else was just laughing at her!

I'm starting to think we should have been laughing at her too.

Common Sense, what a HORRIBLE thing to think...

“Oh, excuse me,” Twilight muttered apologetically as her gait drifted sideways and she rammed directly into Rarity. The unicorn shot her a quizzical look before jumping back into the conversation she had been holding with Fluttershy.

See what I'm talking about here? Common Sense thought smugly.

Simmer down there, Twilight reprimanded. You know the rules in my brain: civil discourse ONLY.

What, so Friendship gets us to wear this ridiculous, vision-reducing getup and somehow I'M the bad guy – 

I, for one, approve of the decision to wear this safety equipment, interjected Science. In case you haven't noticed, we seem to have a remarkable penchant for getting things dropped on our head, especially with Pinkie Pie in the vicinity. This seems like a reasonable way to counteract the problem.

Okay okay okay, fine. But can we at least take them off until we're actually AT the construction site?

I'll allow that, thought Twilight. She funneled her magic into her horn and deftly lifted both the helmet and goggles off her head. Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice recited, hard hat, hemisphere of inner radius eight inches and outer radius nine inches, approximate weight two pounds...the telekinesis calculations were second nature to her now, they took essentially no mental processing power. She floated the equipment into her left saddlebag; she had brought her favorite pair of bags with her on this venture, big, blue, and spacious, the fasteners a startlingly accurate representation of her cutie mark. They were mostly filled with the materials for a certain secret project she had planned for the renovation of Zecora's hut.

Her vision fully restored, Twilight gazed around herself at the mysterious forest pressing in from all sides. She had read many books about this place, practically all the books on the subject she could find in her library and a few from the Canterlot archives to boot. Many of them were quite fascinating: in-depth classifications of the wildlife within, guides on how to survive the many horrors it presented, harrowing tales of adventurers who had nearly met their end in its depths. But not a single one of them attempted to explain anything. These woods lived by their own baffling set of laws, and if anypony had ever tried to figure out exactly what those laws were, they had given up quickly. Every pony in Equestria had simply accepted that the Everfree Forest just did not make sense.

Apparently none of them had ever heard of Twilight's Second Axiom.

Twilight grinned to herself, silently walking along while her friends chattered amicably amongst themselves. This forest would be hers. She had her refined knowledge of magic, she had the scientific method, she had the Axioms. Someday, she would take all those things with her into the forest and wouldn't come out until she had constructed her Grand Unified Theory of Everfree. The only missing elements in this plan were her food supply, which she could just take along with her on a giant wagon or something, and a means to protect herself from the monsters lurking about...

...Which was a problem. Twilight had already had several unpleasant encounters with the creatures of the forest – she still squirmed whenever she remembered being turned to stone by that cockatrice and covered with slugs – and she still couldn't think of any way to reliably defend herself against them. Fancy spellcasting could only go so far in magical combat; when it came down to it, if she wanted to use magic defensively, she needed power.

Power that, as she had been constantly reminded since her days in magic kindergarten, she did not have.

She shot a glance at Rarity, still chatting animatedly with Fluttershy. The white unicorn didn't know it, or at least didn't fully understand it, but she commanded an extraordinary amount of magical energy, several times more than Twilight. If she had spent her entire life honing her magic the way Twilight had, she could have quite possibly become one of the most powerful unicorns in history. Twilight had never told her this, because it would have come across as simply being jealous of her. And in a way, she was.

Twilight needed a spell. A spell to somehow amplify her own magic, to overcome the barrier that had always separated her from true greatness, to become the all-powerful unicorn she deserved to be. She suspected that such a powerful spell might reside somewhere in the deep recesses of the private area of the Canterlot archives, but Princess Celestia had explicitly forbidden her from ever visiting those sections without express permission, and she would never dream of disobeying a direct order from Celestia. Still, if a spell like that actually existed, and if there was even a chance in a million that she could get her hooves on it, then she would not be content until she had it.

Failing that, she would just have to find a way to become extremely wealthy, and hire out the Royal Guard to fight off the forest's monsters while she put the scientific method to work and – 

The dark ambiance of the forest was suddenly replaced by a radiant beam of sunlight, instantly derailing Twilight's train of thought. The group had stepped into a clearing, a small break in the vegetation where the sun was allowed to shine straight through to the ground, brightening and warming the atmosphere considerably. Across from them stood a very peculiar tree; its trunk was enormous, perhaps thirty feet in diameter, and several thick branches shot off in odd directions, ranging from straight up to parallel to the forest floor. Into the trunk was carved a door and two oblong windows. This was Zecora's hut; it would've been more appropriately named a treehouse than a hut, Twilight believed, but she lived inside a tree as well and called it a library, so she wasn't exactly in a position to argue.

But as she and her friends approached the doorway, she realized that the hut was in rather poor shape. Shards of bark were strewn all over the meadow like a pile of mulch. The topmost offshoot sported a thick, black streak of charred wood, as though it had been struck by lightning. And what Twilight had at first mistaken as a branch of the hut was actually an entirely different tree sticking out of the roof, the roots splayed out all across the sky. The rest of the tree, she surmised, must be inside the house.

It was going to be a long day.

Applejack broke from the group to announce their arrival, but before she had reached tree, the door swung open and out stepped Zecora herself.

“Ah, ponies, I'm so glad you're here!” she said warmly. Over the zebra's shoulder, Twilight caught a glimpse of the interior of the tree. It was normally a vibrant place, populated by masks, pots, and cauldrons of every color. But on this occasion, it just looked green. Green like leaves. “My hut is worse for wear, I fear.”

“I'll say!” remarked Applejack. She peered up at the exposed roots of the tree within the tree. “Looks like that thunderstorm really did a number on the place. But don't you worry, we'll have it fixed up before you can say topiary!”

Well said, Applejack! thought Friendship.

Maybe if it takes her six hours to say topiary, thought Common Sense.

I wonder how on earth she can see so clearly through those goggles, thought Science.

Zecora was retreating back into her hut, followed closely by Applejack. “Grateful to you I shall always be, for helping to remove this tree.”

The rest of the ponies funneled in after them, first Rarity, then Pinkie Pie, then Rainbow Dash. Twilight, however, quietly extricated herself from the group, standing in the center of the clearing. Fluttershy glanced concernedly at her as she too entered the doorway. “Twilight, is everything alright?” asked the pegasus.

Twilight nodded vigorously. “Absolutely! I...I just thought I should start out by clearing all this bark out of the way. You know, since I have wind spells and all that.”

“Oh...okay.” Fluttershy disappeared into the hut, gently easing the door shut behind her.

Twilight promptly trotted over to the left side of the clearing, to where a strange stone pillar protruded from the ground. She hadn't completely lied to Fluttershy: she would need to blow away a few bark shavings to create some space for herself. And perhaps when she was done with her little project, she'd take it upon herself to clean out the entire meadow. But there was something she wanted to do for Zecora, something she'd been planning for some time now, and she wanted it to be a surprise.

The stone protrusion was triangular in shape, coming to its peak about three feet off the ground and sloping downward from there, making a right angle with the earth on one side and about a sixty degree one on the other. Instead of being stuck in the dirt, it was fastened to a huge, flat stone disk, positioned on a slight upward slope facing toward the hut. Disregarding the mess of wood chippings littering its surface, the disk was blank, save for a deep gouge cut into it at the top. It was quite a peculiar setup; Twilight could have spent hours pondering its function if she didn't already know what it was.

It was a sundial. An extremely crude, simplistic one, but a functional sundial nonetheless. During one of her past visits to Zecora, the zebra had explained that in the art of potion-making, it was often critical to keep careful track of the amount of time for which a brew matured in between adding ingredients. This had spurred her to construct the sundial, angled in such a way that it was clearly visible from her window. The notch marked noon or midnight, and she could discern the passage of time based on how far the shadow of the triangle moved. Simple yet effective timekeeping.

Effective timekeeping, my purple rump!

With one deft motion, Twilight magically latched onto the stone triangle and wrenched it out of its fastenings, tossing it aside and allowing it to fall to the ground with a tremendous thud. It was an absolute travesty that Zecora had to rely on such an awkward method. Why, there weren't even any markings on it except for twelve o'clock; she couldn't possibly tell the time to any better accuracy than half an hour. Not to mention the sundial would only work during the day, and only on sunny days at that. Twilight wouldn't allow this to continue any longer. By the time Zecora said her farewells to the ponies at the end of the day, she was going to have a clock.

Twilight cleared the stone disk of bark – a simple matter of telekinetically pushing all the air behind it out of the way, creating a pressure differential which was quickly resolved by a strong gust of wind that carried all the wood shavings into the forest – and then magically inverted her saddlebags, the contents spilling onto the ground in front of her. Alongside her hard hat and goggles came everything she needed to turn the faded stone surface into a solar-powered, spring-driven, second-accurate analog clock. Several metallic rods of three different thicknesses, from which she would assemble the hour, minute, and second hands. A pile of large brass numerals, five 1's and two 2's and one of each other digit, exactly enough to construct the numbers one through twelve on the clockface. And finally, a black rectangular box with three thin axles sticking out the top: the gearbox. The mainspring within was made of a magic, light-sensitive material she had specially ordered from Canterlot; as long as it was in the sunlight for at least a few hours a week, the clock would wind itself.

The first task was to properly arrange the numbers, and Twilight promptly set about doing just that, picking up each numeral in turn and positioning it on the edge of the stone circle. Once she was finished, she would cast a Sealing Spell to lock each one in place.

One, two, three...it quickly became apparent that she should have brought a protractor to properly measure out the thirty degree arcs between each number. As it was, she'd just have to place them by trial-and-error.

Four, five, six...should she put on the hard hat? No, Applejack was inside the hut, so nopony would be offended to see her without it, and so was Pinkie, the primary source of bodily injury to Twilight. There was no good reason to sacrifice her vision like that.

Seven, eight, nine...

Why were there so many numbers? This question had been pondered by Twilight many times: who in the name of Celestia had decided that Equestria should use a base ten number system? She would have much preferred an even power of two. Four would have been nice – that way she could count on her hooves – but eight would be fine too, even sixteen would be understandable. But ten just didn't make any sense. What were there ten of? She had once actually gotten an answer to that question, from Lyra of all ponies. The green unicorn insisted that far before the founding of Equestria, there had existed a strange race of creatures, with only two hooves and five phalanges protruding from each one – fingers, had she called them? Twilight took the explanation with mountainous piles of salt, but as it remained her only working hypothesis, it would have to do for the time being.

Almost finished. Ten, eleven – 

“Hey, Twilight!” called the voice of Rainbow Dash. “What are you doing over there?”

Twilight spun around to see the blue pegasus hovering above the hole in Zecora's roof, next to the exposed roots of the tree. “N-nothing!” she stammered. “I mean, I'm working on cleaning up all this bark...”

“Hardly sounds like work to me. Why don't you come in here and make yourself useful? We need your help with something!” With that, Dash disappeared back into the hole.

Twilight heaved a sigh of relief as she trotted to the door. That had been a close one – if Dash had discerned that she was working on a secret project, the whole hut would have known about it in seconds, and she really didn't want Zecora to see the clock until it was completed. In any case, it was only fair that she partake in some of the hard labor as well.

Upon entering the hut, she was immediately impressed with how much progress had already been made. The trunk of the tree stretched down from the roof into the center of the room, directly on top of Zecora's potion-making cauldron, but most of the branches had been ripped off and piled in a corner near the back door. As she watched, Zecora picked one of them up in her mouth and carried it outside. Fluttershy and Pinkie were hard at work removing the last of the branches, while Rarity walked the perimeter of the room and examined the various pots and masks adorning the walls, apparently determining which were heavily damaged and which were salvageable.

“Hey there, sugarcube!” called a voice from above. Applejack was up by the hole in the roof, standing precariously on a wooden rafter, a saw balancing next to her. Dash hovered beside her, ready to catch her if she fell.

Oh no, we forgot the hard hat! moaned Friendship.

Who cares, thought Twilight, choosing to side with Common Sense on this issue.

“This is one mammoth of a tree,” continued Applejack. “I just finished sawing clear through the trunk up here, but for the life of me I can't think of a way to move it. Why, I reckon we'd have to build a whole scaffold and bust out the ropes and pulleys just to get it out of here! You feeling up to movin' a big chunk of tree, Twi?”

Twilight peered up at the tree. She could see the saw marks where Applejack had cut it, about three feet below the ceiling. That meant that she had to move the tree's entire base, along with the enormous web of roots outside. And wood was almost as dense as water; she figured the whole section weighed about eight hundred pounds, maybe more. With her magic alone, it would take ten unicorns like her to even attempt to lift it.

“Can do,” she responded. Fortunately, Twilight wasn't in the habit of relying on magic alone.

Tree trunk, roots included. Largest part is cylindrical, radius one foot, height five feet. Ten feet directly above my head. Weight: about eight hundred pounds. The trunk began to glow with a purple aura. And then: Air. All of it within the region encompassed by a sphere of radius eight feet, centered on the trunk. Weight: negligible. White sparks began to spew out of the tip of her horn, not because of the power of her magic, but because of its complexity; simultaneously holding on to two objects as large as these was no simple feat. Especially when a third one was added: Divide the sphere into two equal hemispheres, upper and lower. Keep track of both halves. The whole room was now alight with the glow of her horn. All activity had ceased; she could feel six pairs of eyes pressing in on her, waiting to see what would happen next.

Air in upper hemisphere: MOVE.

And in the middle of the Everfree Forest, hundreds of miles from the ocean, a hurricane struck.

Twilight immediately funneled the entirety of her magical energy into keeping the tree from smashing into a wall as gale-force winds buffeted it from all sides. The forest may have had its own unique set of laws, but there was one rule that even it could not break: the universe does not like vacuums. The air in the bottom hemisphere frantically tried to fill the hole left by the air in upper, but Twilight's hold on it was too strong; it could blow angrily on the walls of its prison as much as it liked, but it could not escape. Her tail and mane were caught up in the whirlwind that suddenly filled the room, dancing about as air desperately attempted to seep into the vacuum through any cracks it could find...

And slowly but surely, the tree began to move. The only object in the vicinity that was able to fill the gap, it grudgingly acquiesced to the laws of nature and rose through the ceiling as Twilight allowed air to flow back into the lower hemisphere, pushing it even further. Before long, the entire trunk was floating outside the hut, supported by the raw power of Twilight's mind.

Supported not by her magic, but by her ingenuity.

This was usually about the time that she silently thanked whichever pony had invented the spell she was casting. Except in this case, that pony was Twilight Sparkle.

Satisfied that the tree had fully cleared the hut, she released all three entities at once and looked down at the floor, overcome by a sudden wave of fatigue. The room was then filled with a series of cacophonous noises: first a loud pop as the vacuum was instantly filled by the surrounding air, then a much louder THUD as the tree trunk crashed to the forest floor, then the thunderous sound of hooves stomping against the ground as her friends applauded her.

“Darling, that was amazing!” cried Rarity.

“I sure wouldn't like to be that tree!” remarked Fluttershy.

“If that's the sort of the thing you can do now,” said Dash, “I can't wait to see what you're like when Hayley's Comet gets here!”

Hayley's Comet. During the heyday of the past couple hours, Twilight hadn't thought about it at all.

It was probably the only time during the past two months that she hadn't.

July 8th would be her chance. For the first time in her life, she would know what it felt like to be a truly powerful unicorn. Her library was piled high with scores of magics books, filled with spells that simply required too much energy for her to cast, and when Hayley's Comet appeared in the sky...she could cast them. Just like that. There was a nearly infinite number of things she would be able to do that night...which was exactly the problem.

We need to cast spells, asserted Common Sense. Every spell we can get our hooves on. This is the only night in the next seventy six years this is going to happen, we should just savor the experience. After all, it's not like we'll be able to change the world in just one night.

Nonsense, retorted Science. We need to study the comet, discover the mechanism by which it imparts magical power to the unicorns of the earth. Perhaps if we understand it well enough, we'll be able to replicate its effects in the future. Harness that power whenever we want.

Don't forget to help out other ponies, thought Friendship. Our friends do amazing things for almost every day. This would be a good opportunity to return the favor.

Twilight wanted to do everything that her internal voices had suggested. She really, really wanted to do all of them. But there wasn't enough time. The comet would only last one night, and one night only. Unless she came up with a plan by then, decided exactly what she wanted to with the eight or so hours that the comet would be in the sky, she was doomed to spend the time doing nothing.

Fortunately, she had all week to come up with that plan. And in the meantime, there was a half-finished clock sitting in the front yard –

“TWITCHY TAIL!!” bellowed Pinkie, and all around Twilight, ponies scattered in every direction. She only had enough time to nervously glance behind her before a branch broke from the tree above her and collided with her head.

Stars danced across her field of vision as she stumbled around drunkenly, her sense of balance completely thrown out of whack. She thought she could dimly make out concerned gasps from Fluttershy, Rarity, and Applejack, but Rainbow Dash and Pinkie were laughing at her. Even Zecora was chuckling. “It seems to me what Twilight lacks,” the zebra said jovially, “is a sturdy hat, like Applejack's.”

It was going to be a really long day.


….......


“Hi, Twilight!” said Spike as the door to the library creaked open. “You sure have been gone a long time – Twilight, what happened to you?!”

“Nothing, Spike,” sighed Twilight, sitting down heavily and allowing her mostly empty saddlebags to slide off her back onto the floor. She didn't have a mirror in which to view herself, but she was sure that she must look like quite a mess; a full day of hard labor tended to do that. Not to mention the prominent bump on her head that marked the spot the branch had hit her. “It's just been a long day, that's all.”

“I'll say it has!” remarked Spike, eyeing her up and down with a shocked expression. “You look awful! You want me to get you some food, or some water, or anything –“

“Bed,” groaned Twilight. “I'm just...going to bed.” She should have reprimanded the baby dragon for being up so late – his bedtime was ten o'clock, which was a full hour ago – but she was far too exhausted to think about anything but her own sleep schedule.

“Alright, suit yourself,” said Spike.

Twilight trudged up the staircase with her eyes almost fully closed, inwardly thankful that Spike hadn't carelessly left any debris in her path. It had been one of the most tiring days of her life, filled with her magically moving things around almost constantly; she had actually run completely out of energy near the end and had been reduced to carrying items in her mouth like the rest of her friends. But it had all been worth it; Twilight had rarely seen someone as happy as Zecora as the zebra bade the ponies a teary farewell, her hut fully cleaned out and the roof patched so well that Applejack claimed it would never be breached again. The clear highlight of the day had been when Twilight finally revealed to her the finished, calibrated, and operating clock; Zecora had stopped dead in her tracks and simply whispered “oh my!” without even attempting to rhyme it with anything.

She reached her bed and flung herself onto it without restraint, bouncing up and down several times before finally coming to rest. She glanced over to her bedside table and noted the single book that sat alone on its surface. Twilight had implicitly ruled that books were not allowed around her bed; it was the only way she could ever actually get any sleep. But this particular book was the exception.

A Short Course on the Scientific Method for Earth Ponies.

She lifted the book and began thoughtlessly flipping through its pages. The paper was old and worn and the text upon it was faded in places, but the book had been the target of a restoration spell that Twilight had learned specifically for this purpose, and it was immune to further damage. Page after page passed her field of vision, spelling out the thought processes that had single-handedly shaped the way her brain thought about everything. She finally reached the back cover, on the inside of which she had written her own little contribution. A short list of fundamental rules about the world. Laws that she could always depend on whenever a problem needed to be solved. The Axioms.

Twilight's First Axiom: If something makes sense, it can be understood.

Twilight's Second Axiom: Everything makes sense.

And then came the latest addition to the list, carefully inscribed in the tiny space between axioms two and three:

Twilight Second Axiom, Addendum One: Pinkie Pie does not make sense.

This one still left a bad taste in her mouth; it seemed a little too specific for what was supposed to be a fundamental law of the universe. But the second axiom was one of the most important of the bunch, and until she had an explanation for Pinkie's Pinkie Sense, or how she occasionally seemed to break the laws of physics at will, or just why she acted the way she did – basically anything Pinkie related – she'd have to choose between putting up with the addendum and scrapping the second axiom entirely. She could live with the addendum for now, and formulating a rational explanation for Pinkie Pie was somewhere on her to-do list...

Twilight's Third Axiom: I am a smart pony.

Twilight's Fourth Axiom: When in doubt, use Science.

And finally:

Twilight's Fifth Axiom: Princess Celestia is always right.

She had added it many years ago, on the night following her fateful examination at Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, and since then it had been validated time and time again. Celestia had known that she would be able to hatch that dragon egg. Celestia had carefully guided her education, building inside her an encyclopaedic knowledge of magic unmatched by any other filly in Equestria. Celestia had sent her to Ponyville, forcing her to make some friends and making her a happier unicorn than she'd ever thought possible. Most of what Twilight was today, she owed to Celestia, and the princess had fully earned her own Axiom. Whenever she spoke, Twilight didn't have to waste her time analyzing her words, trying to verify them herself; she already knew that they were true.

She closed the book and lay back on the bed with a final exhausted sigh. Through her closed eyelids, she could see the moonlight shining through her window. This managed to keep her awake for a few moments longer, not due to the light itself, but because even in her mind's half-asleep state, it was still coming up with questions for her to ponder.

She thought of Luna, the lovably awkward princess who had once been the tyrant known as Nightmare Moon, who Celestia had imprisoned in the moon for one thousand years. But how was that even possible? The moon wasn't exactly well suited to sustaining a pony's life for a millennium; it was nothing but a big, barren chunk of rock, thousands of miles away in the middle of space, with no water or edible material to speak of, not to mention the little problem of air. And even if Celestia had found a way to teleport Nightmare Moon up there and keep her alive for a thousand years, couldn't she have just...teleported back?

Twilight had a sneaking suspicion that Nightmare Moon had never been on the moon at all, that she had simply spent the past millennium locked in a dungeon somewhere, and the whole lunar thing was some literary pony's idea of a good fairy tale.

The next time she saw Princess Luna, she would remember to ask her what had actually happened during her years on the moon, how it felt to spend so much time alone, with nobody to talk to, miserable and scared – 

No, you most certainly will NOT ask her that, warned Friendship menacingly.

Okay, I won't, thought Twilight, and then sleep overtook her.


….......


Midnight was one of the few times that Fluttershy's cottage was privileged to experience the wonderful atmosphere of silence. The animals had all been fed their final meal of the day, albeit much later in the evening than usual, and had drifted off into slumber. The chickens, the birds, the mice...even Angel the bunny, who habitually threw a fit over the indignity of bedtime, had finally dozed off. The only awake creature in the cottage was Fluttershy, putting the finishing touches on the animals' breakfast for the next morning, and in just a few minutes, she would be joining them in dreamland.

But that plan was suddenly interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

What pony could be visiting her at midnight?! Perhaps it was Nightmare Night? No, that wasn't until October, and even it was, Fluttershy had made it abundantly clear to Ponyville that she preferred to spend Nightmare Night alone. She continued to rack her brain, wondering if she had forgotten about any important engagements that day –

The knock was repeated, slightly louder this time. “Who is it?” asked Fluttershy uncertainly.

The door swung open.

Outside stood the largest pony that Fluttershy had ever seen. It was an alicorn, towering above her so high that the top of her horn was obscured by the door frame; even Princess Celestia could enter her hut without needing to stoop. Her coat was bright red, the color of fire. Her mane and tail were a dazzling mixture of orange and yellow, majestically blowing behind her in the windless night like a flame. Beyond her roaring mane, Fluttershy could catch only a glimpse of her cutie mark: a sword.

“Fluttershy,” spoke the alicorn in a deep, commanding tone. It sounded somewhat like Princess Luna's regal voice, only...colder. “The Element of Kindness?”

Fluttershy opened her mouth, but no words came out.

The alicorn chuckled softly. “The name suits you. You would have been wiser to build your residence closer to the town, where somepony might notice if you were attacked in the middle of the night.”

A terrified squeak escaped from Fluttershy's throat. Her mind was instantly flooded by the thought that the alicorn meant her harm, that she should run away...but her legs didn't seem to be working. Looking down, she realized that each of her four legs was surrounded by a glowing blue ring that had materialized out of thin air, rooting her to the spot.

“No resistance at all?” said the alicorn coldly. “Just what I expected from a pegasus like yourself.” Her horn began to glow, and a red sphere appeared at its tip, shining so brightly that Fluttershy had to look away from its incandescence, growing larger every second. “I have amazing plans for the future of this world, Fluttershy, and I'm sorry to say that you aren't part of them.”

Fluttershy desperately flapped her wings, but to no avail; the magic binding her to the ground was too strong. Completely overcome by awe and terror, she could only stand where she was, trembling violently, watching through squinted eyes as the alicorn's spell became brighter and brighter, larger and larger. After what seemed to her like an eternity, the spell detached from the horn and rushed through the air directly into her body, and she clamped her eyes shut as the world around her was dominated by a vibrant red haze...
> Chapter Four - Trapped
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Fluttershy, are you in there?”

Rarity impatiently knocked on the door to the cottage for a third time. It wasn't like Fluttershy to be late to anything; the pegasus was normally the first one to arrive at any planned meeting, after Rarity herself of course. Yet the two ponies had scheduled an appointment at the spa for eleven o'clock that morning, and a full hour later, Fluttershy was still nowhere to be found.

“FLUTTERSHY. ARE...YOU...THERE?!” she bellowed, slamming her hoof against the door at full force. To be fair, it wasn't like Rarity either to act like this, losing her cool over something silly like a missed spa session. But the events of the morning so far had unsettled her quite terribly.

She had had that dream again. She had seen Twilight, imbued with a limitless magical power, as she ruthlessly assaulted Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Pinkie, Celestia...yes, Celestia had been there this time, and even she hadn't been able to stop the rampaging unicorn.

Rarity had tried her best to put it out of her mind. A dream was just a dream; she had nightmares all the time, and none of them had ever caused her closest friends to turn evil. But a recurring nightmare...

“FLUTTERSHY!” She raised her hoof once again...and let it fall to the ground. She had to control herself. One of the animals had probably fallen sick, and Fluttershy had rushed it to the vet. Or maybe she was simply asleep, exhausted from yesterday's work at Zecora's hut, and Rarity was in the process of ruining her morning. She guiltily turned around, resolving to return to her boutique and come back later that afternoon to find out what had happened...

...And she saw the feather. A bright, flame-red feather, lying just to the side of the path to Fluttershy's cottage. It was the biggest feather she had ever seen, almost as long as her tail. It was much too large to be from a pegasus, certainly too large for any of Fluttershy's animals...she couldn't think of any creature big enough to drop it.

Somehow, just the sight of that feather gave Rarity the feeling that something was horribly, horribly wrong.

“Fluttershy!” she yelled in a panicked tone, scrambling back to the door and pulling feverishly on the handle...to find that it was unlocked. A wave a relief passed over her as she entered the cottage. “It's me, Rarity! I'm sorry to intrude, but I had to make sure that –“


….......


Rainbow Dash kicked yet another pebble into Fluttershy's fireplace. It was an odd habit of hers; whenever she was really angry or really frustrated, she got an insatiable urge to shoot things against other things. She'd pick almost anything as her target, so powerful was the impulse; the cottage's mice were lucky to have kept their distance on this particular occasion. Perhaps Fluttershy would have asked her to stop anyway. But then again, Fluttershy wasn't in a position to ask her anything at the moment.

Rarity let out a helpless groan, a sound she'd been emitting at regular intervals for some time. Nonetheless, the white unicorn was in a much calmer state than when she'd arrived below Dash's airborne house earlier that day, wailing incoherently about how something...something really bad...had happened to Fluttershy. Dash would have normally passed this off as a mean joke, but Rarity had very clearly not been joking. She had rushed to the cottage as fast as her wings would carry her, to find that Applejack and Pinkie were already there, gazing in horrified awe at...

...The thing in the center of the room. It looked a bit like the rubies Rarity used in her dressmaking, only much, much larger – it was a good two feet taller than Rainbow Dash, and a lot wider as well. Sunlight from the window reflected off the hundreds and hundreds of facets that made up the spherical, translucent, gem-like object, as though it had been cut by an extremely skilled jeweler. The light bounced off the red-colored surfaces and cast itself all over the walls, filling the room with an eerie pinkish glow, not unlike one of Vinyl's dance parties. The multidirectional glare of light made it difficult to focus on the prism directly, but not so much so that the ponies couldn't see what was inside it.

Fluttershy.

The pegasus stood in the very center of the prismatic prison, her yellow coat tinged orange by its crimson surface. All four of her legs were encircled by a set of strange disks, each one emitting a dull blue light. Her head was pointed down to the floor and her eyelids were scrunched shut, as though she was preparing for something to fly into the prism and hit her in the face at any moment.

Nothing did fly at her. Yet still she stood there, frozen in place. Not moving a muscle. Not moving a hair.

Like she was nothing more than a statue.

Rainbow Dash had kicked the walls of the prism until her hooves were sore. She had thrown at it every throwable object in the whole cottage. She had even flown back several hundred feet from the building and rocketed toward it at top speed, only to be stopped at the last second by Applejack, who had scoldingly told her the last thing they needed was to have her in the hospital with a broken neck. And yet the gemstone stood firm, displaying not so much as a scratch for her efforts.

Now Dash found herself meandering about the room, alongside Applejack, Pinkie, and Rarity, as the true horror of the situation slowly descended upon her:

Fluttershy was trapped behind what appeared to be a powerful magical barrier, and they could not get her out.

“Where's Twilight?” asked Applejack, breaking a long bout of silence.

“Spike said she was out buying groceries,” Rarity replied. “I told him to send her over as soon as she got back.”

And then the oppressive silence returned. Dash dully shuffled around, occasionally kicking another mote of dust into the fireplace, trying not to look directly at anypony, especially Fluttershy...

“She'd better hurry up,” she remarked eventually. “The sooner she gets here and breaks Fluttershy out of that thing, the better.”

“Um, Dash,” said Applejack hesitantly, “this seems to me like a mighty powerful spell, I'm not sure if even Twilight can break it –“

“Yes she can,” Dash said flatly. She stared directly at the floorboards as she spoke. “When it comes to magic, Twilight can do anything.”

“Dash, do be reasonable,” interjected Rarity. “I quite agree that Twilight is a very smart unicorn, but this might be out of her league. I don't know who could have cast a spell like this, but it would have to be somepony really, really powerful –“

“Then let's find out who did it and make them get Fluttershy out!” Dash began to walk toward the door, her eyesight still fixed to the ground.

She found her path suddenly blocked by Applejack. “Listen to me. I know you're upset, we all are, but we can't just start running around like a herd of stampeding buffalo. We wouldn't know the first thing about finding the pony responsible for this. Maybe that pony doesn't even exist, for all we know this could've been some kind of accident.”

“Applejack's right,” Rarity chimed in. “Besides, even if we could find the perpetrator, we couldn't possibly force such a powerful unicorn to –“

“Fluttershy is in there!” bellowed Dash. Something snapped inside her; she unfolded her wings and took to the air, glaring down at the other ponies. She could feel her pulse pounding behind her face like a bass drum. “She's trapped in that thing, and she's not going to get out until we do something about it! What is your plan, exactly? Sit around here all day and whine?!”

Applejack and Rarity gazed back up at her, their mouths hanging half-open as though they desperately wanted to speak. But neither one did.

“Don't have a plan? Then we're going with mine, and my plan is to find whoever did this to Fluttershy and kick the living manure out of them. And if you two are too scared to come along, then I'll just have to do it myself.” She abruptly started toward the door, before remembering that there was still one other pony in the room. “Pinkie, are you in or out?”

The pink pony slowly turned around, and the wave of shock that passed through Dash was strong enough to freeze her wings in place and send her plummeting to the ground. It had crossed her mind as odd that the most energetic pony in Ponyville had spent the past half hour silently moping in a corner, facing the wall with her head bowed. But her puffy red eyes and cheeks glistening with fresh tears told the whole story.

“Pinkie!” cried an aghast Rarity, scrambling over to her friend. “Darling, what's wrong?”

Pinkie's voice came out as a sort of broken, high-pitched whimper that Dash had never heard from her before. “It's just...so sad, you know? I mean...she's all by herself in there, she's got nothing to do, no friends to talk to...maybe she doesn't even know we're here, maybe she thinks she's all alone, maybe she's cold or tired or scared...”

Dash suddenly felt rather sick to her stomach.

Rarity gently touched Pinkie's hoof with her own. “Everything's going to be alright, Pinkie. Maybe she doesn't have any friends with her in there, but she's got plenty out here. And we're going to find a way to get her out. I promise.”

The pink pony heaved an anguished sigh. “But how is she going to eat like that? How is she going to sleep? What if she can't breathe? What if...what if she's –“

“Stop it!” snapped Dash, her stomach lurching violently. She didn't want to hear the last word of that sentence. She didn't want to think it.

“Now, that's just crazy talk,” said Applejack, although her wavering voice sounded far less reassuring than her words. “Don't go about getting all depressed for no reason, especially when we don't know anything yet –“

She was interrupted by a pair of loud, startled gasps. Dash turned to see two new figures standing in the open doorway: a baby dragon, riding atop a purple unicorn.

All activity in the cottage instantly ceased.

“What happened?” asked Twilight, as Spike wordlessly slid off his mount and stared at the monumental crystal with a shocked expression.

“We don't know,” stated Applejack bluntly.

Twilight's eyes darted rapidly back and forth, scanning the many dazzling surfaces of the prism, before resting on the orange-tinted pegasus trapped inside. Dash suddenly found her breath caught in her throat. Rarity and Applejack had been right, this was probably too powerful a spell for even Twilight to handle. But there was still a chance that she could actually...

“How long...” started Twilight, “how long has she been like that?”

“A few hours, at least,” replied Rarity. “I found her this morning, and she hasn't moved a muscle ever since.”

Twilight slowly walked to the center of the cottage, all the other ponies hastily clearing her way, trying to allow her as much room as possible. For a long moment, she stared searchingly at Fluttershy, still frozen in place, her face scrunched up in anticipation of some impending blow that would never come. The unicorn then closed her eyes and bowed her head, clearly deep in thought.

After a period of intense silence that seemed to go on for hours, she opened her eyes, and her horn began to glow with a faint purple light – 

Rainbow Dash's heart seemed to stop beating – 

But nothing happened. The glow faded away, and Twilight was left standing in front of a perfectly intact red crystal, her mouth contorted into a perplexed frown.

“Well?!” pressed Dash, unable to take any more. “Can you get her out?”

“I'm...I'm not sure,” said Twilight hesitantly. “I sent a Scrying Spell at her, but nothing came back. It's like that object's absorbing my magic or something. I've never seen anything like that before...”

Dash kicked a pebble at the fireplace hard enough to scare a group of mice lingering on the outskirts of the room back into their hole.

“Rainbow Dash!” said Rarity reprovingly. “Do try to control yourself!”

Dash ignored her. That was it, their final chance to rescue Fluttershy, gone in a wisp of smoke. Twilight hadn't even been able to figure out what the mysterious crystal was, and as far as Dash was concerned, if Twilight couldn't do anything, then they were dead in the water.

“So now what do we do?” ventured Applejack, echoing Dash's sentiments quite well.

Twilight turned her back to the crystal and addressed the group with a certain fire in her eyes. Dash suddenly found her fear and anger pushed to the side as the unicorn captivated her attention. Twilight might have spent most of her time as a quiet bookworm, but whenever things got really serious, she had a way of instantly turning into a strong, commanding, even regal leader.

“First of all, we're not going to panic. Panicking isn't going to do anything but tire us out. Second, we're going to do everything we can to get Fluttershy out of there. That crystal is obviously a spell of some sort, which I understand pushes it under my area of expertise, but that doesn't mean that everypony can't help out. I'll need one of you to search this whole area for clues as to what happened, and another one to come back to the library and learn as much about this kind of spell as possible. And somepony should go around Ponyville and find out whether anypony saw something suspicious last night.”

Just hearing Twilight speak made Dash feel better than she had all morning. After nearly an hour of aimlessly pacing back in forth, wallowing in undirected rage and trying not to ask herself some really horrifying questions, it was nice to finally have some direction. Judging by the sea of energetically nodding heads throughout the room, her friends all felt much the same way.

“Third,” continued Twilight, “we need to get Princess Celestia over here as soon as possible. If anypony in Equestria knows what this spell is, it's her.”

Dash felt rather taken aback. Why had nobody thought of that yet?

“Spike, take a letter. Dear Princess Celestia –“

“Way ahead of you, Twilight,” said Spike. The baby dragon had climbed on top of a blue table in the corner, on which sat an assortment of pencils and blank pieces of paper, and was furiously scribbling at a sheet in front of him. “Frankly, I'm surprised that wasn't the first thing on your list.” Setting the pencil down with a definitive thud, he stood up and read the completed letter aloud. “Dear Princess Celestia: Fluttershy is in trouble. She's trapped inside a magical crystal of some kind, and she can't move. None of us know how to get her out. Please come at once. Sincerely, Spike.”

“That sounds fine,” said Twilight approvingly. “Send it.”

Spike inhaled deeply, and the letter vanished in a blaze of green fire.

Twilight faced Dash and the rest of her friends once again. “Now, Celestia will probably come as quickly as she can, but it does take a few hours to get to Ponyville from Canterlot, even by chariot. In the meantime, let's get started. Applejack, Pinkie, you two start looking around for anything out of the ordinary, and Rainbow Dash, you come with me to the library and –“

A tremendous bang and brilliant white light blasted through the cottage. Momentarily blinded and deafened, Dash staggered backward in a panic, blinking furiously.

“Oh my,” said the soft yet regal voice of Princess Celestia.

“Princess!” cried Dash. Her ears were still ringing, but she could now see the majestic alicorn standing next to the crimson prism, gazing concernedly at the pegasus trapped within. Dash and the rest of the ponies gathered excitedly around the princess, all except for Twilight, who stood her ground with a rather befuddled expression on her face.

“Holy cow, that was fast!” commented Applejack.

“How did you...” started Twilight, before fading off into silence.

“Oh, thank Celestia you're here!” said Rarity. “Wait, I mean...um, well, you know...”

Celestia shot a brief smile at her subjects, but quickly shifted her attention back to Fluttershy, the corners of her mouth sinking into a frown as she stared.

Rainbow Dash's spirits sank with them, as she came to the realization that even Princess Celestia didn't know what she was looking at.

“She's apparently been like that all morning,” explained Twilight. “I'm sorry to have bothered you, I wish I could have broken the spell myself, but I don't think I've ever read about anything quite like this...”

“I'm not surprised,” said Celestia. “This appears to an exceptionally powerful brand of magic, certainly not the sort of thing you'd expect to find in a common spellbook. I must confess that I myself am not familiar with this particular spell.”

“But do you know how to get her out of there?” burst out Pinkie, her high-pitched voice laced with a glimmer of hopefulness.

“I'm afraid not,” said Celestia.

Dash's heart dropped into her stomach. It sank even further when she looked at Pinkie; the pink earth pony had allowed her head to slump to the floor, biting down on her lower lip, her eyes already brimming with a fresh set of tears. Part of Dash wanted to call out to her, to assure her that everything was going to turn out alright like Applejack and Rarity had done, but now that the princess herself had been bested by the magical barrier, those words were beginning to sound more and more like a lie.

“But who could have even cast a spell like that?” asked Twilight.

“I'm not sure,” replied Celestia. “The most I can tell you is that there is a great deal of magical energy behind that barrier. Quite a bit more than could have been produced by any ordinary unicorn. In fact, I can't imagine any unicorn in all of Equestria being able to do this. As far as I know, the only pony besides myself who wields this much power is Luna.”

“Luna did this?!” gasped Dash incredulously. Her mind became a blur as the implications of this set in; it would mean that Nightmare Moon had returned, and at this very moment was probably working to plunge Equestria into eternal night...

“Dash, don't be ridiculous,” chided Twilight. “That's not what she meant to imply at all.”

“Indeed it wasn't,” said Celestia with a small smile. “No, there are powerful unicorns from places outside of Equestria, and of them I know little. And the Everfree Forest is home to all manner of magical creatures; perhaps one of them is responsible. In any case, I'd rather not jump to any conclusions before gathering as much information about this spell as possible.”

Twilight nodded. “That's exactly what I was thinking. As a matter of fact, we were just getting ready to look for clues before you arrived. But none of us have found anything yet.”

“Actually, that's not quite true,” said Rarity.

Six pairs of surprised eyes instantly latched onto the unicorn.

“There's a large red feather laying on the ground just outside the door,” explained Rarity. “I saw it when I first arrived here this morning.” She raised a hoof and gestured to the doorway.

Dash could clearly see it from where she was standing. She couldn't believe she hadn't seen it when she'd first entered the cottage; the red feather stuck out from the surrounding green grass like a storm cloud in a clear sky. Large hardly did the feather justice; it was huge, longer than two of Dash's own feathers placed end-to-end. It reminded her of the plumage that comprised Celestia's wings, but it was too big even for that, and obviously the wrong color, unless Celestia had recently taken a bath in a bucket of red paint...

“Ah...I see,” murmured Celestia.

All eyes now jumped to the princess. She was staring at the feather as well, and her expression had transitioned to one that was quite a bit...darker.

“I believe I know who dropped that feather.” she said. “And as you can clearly see, it was indeed not a unicorn.”

“Obviously,” said Spike. “So what, is it a griffon, or some kind of oversized phoenix, or –“

“No. It is an alicorn, like myself.”

“What?!” cried Dash, Pinkie, and Rarity simultaneously.

“Princess, there are...other alicorns?” queried Applejack.

“There are a few in Canterlot,” Twilight interjected. “My babysitter was an alicorn, actually. But she wasn't a super-powered spellcaster or anything, she wasn't even that much stronger than me. I thought Celestia and Luna were the only ones who were really, really powerful.”

Celestia shook her head gravely. “I'm afraid that is not the case. I have one particular alicorn in mind, the only creature I know of whose wings match that feather, and if she is indeed the one who cast this spell on Fluttershy, then we have some serious trouble on our hooves.”

“T-t-trouble?” stammered Pinkie, her eyes wide open.

For a brief moment, Celestia looked aside and closed her eyes, as though carefully pondering her next action. “I will tell all of you the entire truth,” she said eventually. “However, I would like you to keep it amongst yourselves; I see no purpose in sending all of Ponyville into a wild panic over my story. Will you promise me this?”

“Yes,” said Rainbow Dash and Spike. The rest simply nodded.

“Very well.” Celestia walked to the front of the room, where every pony in the room could clearly see her and she could see all of them, and began to speak.

“I saw this alicorn about seventy five years ago, for the first and last time. I do not know where she came from, or where she went afterward. She simply walked into Canterlot one evening, just after I had put the sun to sleep, and entered my personal quarters. I asked her what she wanted. She told me she wanted to take my life, and attacked me on the spot.”

Dash's jaw dropped as an assortment of gasps broke out across the room.

“She fought with an array of extraordinarily powerful spells, of a caliber that even I was not familiar with. Between myself and the royal guard, we were barely able to fend her off. But just barely. We attempted to subdue her, but she managed to escape back into the mountains, promising she would return one day. But she never did. To this day, I do not know who she was or what her true intentions were. All she told me was her name.”

“...Which is?” asked Dash in little more than a whisper.

“Aurora,” replied Celestia.

Power. It was the first word that entered Dash's head upon hearing the name, and it was backed by a sinister intonation that grew stronger and stronger as she spoke it in her mind again and again. 

“But now, it appears that Aurora has indeed returned,” continued Celestia. “And that is very worrisome. For one, it means that the spell she has cast on Fluttershy is sure to be of the utmost potency. I do not know how to break it, and I doubt there is a pony in all of Equestria who does. But that in itself is less frightening than the fact that there is an extremely powerful and extremely evil alicorn on the loose, and she is clearly not above attacking the innocent. Who knows where she might strike next?”

Dash glanced at Fluttershy, trapped in a crimson, gem-like cage that had been conjured by an alicorn with almost enough power to kill Celestia, and a chill ran down her spine.

“In the end, I just want to urge all of you to be careful. Try to stay near each other, don't go out at night if you can help it, and if you see any sign of Aurora, let me know right away. I promise that I will do everything in my power to sort this out as quickly as possible. And unfortunately, that's the only thing I can promise you for now...”

“Princess Celestia, I have a request,” said Twilight.

Celestia glanced down in surprise at the purple unicorn. She had remained completely silent during the princess's story, as she often did during the dissemination of important knowledge, and her expression portrayed both nervousness and grim determination. “Yes, Twilight?” asked the princess.

“I would like...” Twilight visibly swallowed. “I would like to request unrestricted access to the private section of the Canterlot archives.”

Rainbow Dash involuntarily drew a sharp breath. She was no expert on Canterlot's libraries, but she understood enough to know that Twilight had just asked for something huge. The private Canterlot archives were located in the personal quarters of Celestia herself, and were probably the most carefully guarded area in all of Equestria. Nobody was allowed inside. Nopony really knew what was in there; it could be ancient, crumbling books, or scrolls depicting incredibly powerful magic, or maybe just enormous piles of money...

Celestia stared in silence at the purple unicorn, her mouth slightly agape.

“I mean, I'd only use it if I really needed to,” said Twilight hastily. “But if I'm going to break this spell on Fluttershy, then I'm going to have to reverse engineer it first, and I'm not sure if there's enough information in my library to do that for such a powerful spell, so I'd like to have as many resources available to me as possible.”

The princess kept her gaze fixed on Twilight, her visage now etched with an air of sadness.

“I understand completely if there's material in there you don't want me to see,” continued Twilight. “So I'd be willing to have one of the royal guard go in to search the books for me. But if you don't want anypony to see that material, the guard and I could work under a system where neither of us can get the full amount of information; for example, I could only read the first half of book titles and he could read the second half, and I'd only look into books that contained a pre-specified set of keywords approved by you. Or you could just cast a Confounding Spell on me, and I wouldn't be able to read any books you wanted to keep secret.”

“Twilight...” muttered Celestia.

“And then there's the problem of transportation between this cottage and Canterlot. I could go back and forth on the train, but that would be really, really slow, so it would be nice to have a personal chariot for the next couple days, if you can spare one. Alternatively, you could teach me about that long-range teleportation you just used, and that would have the added benefit of me being able to –“

“TWILIGHT. I do not want you to attempt to break this spell.”

The unicorn's mouth froze in mid-sentence.

Celestia sighed heavily. “Please try to understand. Aurora's magic is...it's some of the most powerful magic I've ever seen. It would take someone with a lifetime of experience to even attempt to decipher its secrets. As smart as you are, I do not think that you are ready for this.”

Twilight seemed to be physically incapable of responding to this. She looked as though she'd just been told that she wasn't really a unicorn, and her parents had affixed a painted railroad spike to her forehead when she was a foal.

“But, Princess,” said Dash, “If Twilight isn't allowed to try to rescue Fluttershy, then who –“

“Rest assured that destroying this barrier is my highest priority,” interrupted Celestia. “And I have in mind a number of extraordinarily intelligent unicorns to whom I intend to relegate this task. Each one has proven their intellectual mettle on many occasions, and I am told that they specialize in solving difficult problems such as this. They are unicorn scientists.”

Dash couldn't help but notice Twilight's ears perk up considerably upon hearing this. Scientists? Twilight talked about such ponies as though they were some kind of demigods. Dash had often been the unwilling subject of the unicorn's lectures on how science could fix every problem that Equestria had ever faced, and how much better the world would be if everypony was a scientist, and how she owned a book about it that Dash really should read, a book that didn't require any magical knowledge to understand because it was just a textbook for earth ponies...

“And now, I must be off,” said Celestia. She glanced over her shoulder through the open doorway, to the sun that had long since reached its peak and had begun its slow descent into afternoon. “The return of Aurora has posed a major predicament to all of Equestria, and there is much I must attend to in Canterlot. But I shall return as soon as I am able, and when I do, I will bring the scientists with me, and the quest to rescue Fluttershy will begin. Until then, goodbye.”

The alicorn trotted through the door, took several quick paces down the path, and vanished in a brilliant flash of white light.

Five ponies and one baby dragon remained still, staring at the spot where the princess had disappeared.

One pony stood far stiller than the rest, her eyes squeezed shut as she braced herself for a blow that would never arrive, encased in a crimson prism of magic that could not be broken.
> Chapter Five - The Scientists
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several hours passed.

For Rainbow Dash, the past day had felt like flying headlong into a brick wall. Fluttershy's predicament had left her dazed, confused, flustered, scared – she had barely even been able to comprehend what had happened, and the few thoughts and realizations she had pulled together had caused her awful pain. But with time, the pain had subsided to a dull throbbing in the back of her head; Fluttershy was still trapped inside an impenetrable magical prism, and that was a horrible, horrible reality, but it was now just an event that had happened, a fact of life. She was, at the very least, able to think again. And it had been some time since she'd felt the urge to violently kick a rock into something valuable.

Dash now found herself at the Sugarcube Corner, hastily stuffing her face with pie, muffins, pancakes, whatever food she could get her hooves on; she hadn't eaten a morsel since dinner the day before. Her friends were seated across the table, and judging by the way they shoved bite after bite of food into their mouths, their meal schedules were all in a similar situation. Pinkie seemed to have been particularly affected by the hunger strike; entire pies vanished down her throat faster than they would have disappeared if the shop had been struck by a tornado. In between bites, she offered up little wisecracks to the table in typical Pinkie fashion, to which Applejack politely chuckled while Rarity chided her for talking with her mouth full. After all the rage and anxiety that had been incurred that day, her friends seemed to have returned to their usual selves.

...Except for Twilight, who stared blankly at the muffin she had been slowly nibbling at for the past few minutes, taking no part in the conversation at all.

Even for an egghead like her, this behavior was a little disconcerting.

“What's on your mind, Twilight?” asked Dash as Pinkie returned to the table with yet another platter of refreshments.

Twilight's head jerked up. “What? Oh, nothing. I'm just...thinking.”

“Ooh, what are you thinking about?” Pinkie jumped in. “I'm thinking about which of these delicious pies I'm going to eat next. This strawberry one looks super-duper yummy, but I've already had two of those, so I think I might try the hay, or the oats-and-grass – but I know how much you love those, Twilight, do you want it instead?”

“No thanks,” said Twilight. “But I was actually thinking about Aurora.”

“Oh, come on!” groaned Dash. “Why would a smart pony like you waste your time on a villain like her? Celestia's about to come back with her scientists, and they'll just...science Fluttershy out of that crystal while Celestia goes off and kicks her evil flank back to wherever she came from. What's the point in worrying about it?”

“I really hope you're right,” said Twilight. “I wasn't worrying, though. I'm simply trying to discern as much information about her as possible, given the limited knowledge we have to go off of. For example, just now I was pondering Aurora's motive for attacking a harmless pony like Fluttershy in the middle of the night –”

“Because she's evil!” Dash thumped her hoof against the table for effect.

“Actually, Twi has a point,” remarked Applejack. “Even evil ponies don't do evil things just for the fun of it. There has to be some reason behind what she did.”

“But why would anypony want to hurt Fluttershy?!” Dash demanded. “She's the nicest pony I've met in my entire life, she's literally never harmed a fly, she's the freaking Element of Kindness for Celestia's sake –”

“Exactly,” said Twilight.

Dash's mouth snapped shut as all eyes in the room fixated on the unicorn.

“The Elements of Harmony are the most powerful magical force in Equestria's history. As long as the six of us are united in friendship, we can stop any evil that threatens us in its tracks. But if just one of us falls astray, the Elements become useless. And that explains why Aurora attacked Fluttershy. She's clearly planning something, probably something really dark...and now that she's separated Fluttershy from the rest of us, the Elements can't stop her.”

All the camaraderie the group of friends had worked up over the past several hours instantly sublimated.

“But...what?” whispered Applejack. “What is her plan?”

“I don't know what,” replied Twilight darkly. “But I do know when. Do you remember when Celestia described her previous encounter with Aurora? She said it happened seventy five years ago. And seventy five years is just about the period of –”

A small gasp from Rarity's corner of the table interrupted her. “Of Hayley's Comet,” the white unicorn finished.

Twilight nodded. “Celestia didn't say it outright, but I'd bet you anything that Aurora used the comet's power in her attack. And if that's what she's waiting for, then whatever she's planning to do, we have six days until it happens.”

A brooding silence descended upon the group. Dash turned back to her plate of apple dumplings, which she had been eagerly devouring just moments ago; now, they seemed more like ugly deep-fried lumps of soggy dough. Twilight's deductions were foreboding, ominous, even downright horrifying...and worst of all, they were perfectly, unquestionably correct.

So she's right again, no surprise there, Dash thought. She probably should have congratulated Twilight on her spotless logic, or thanked her for what amounted to a warning of what was to come. But meanwhile, the unicorn had ruined a delicious meal, and all because Dash had asked, 'what's on your mind'...

She'd remember never to ask Twilight that question again, at least not over dinner.

“Welp,” said Pinkie Pie at long last, “I don't know about you, but I could sure go for another pie or two.” With that, she hopped to her feet and trotted away. Rainbow Dash opened her mouth to deliver a rude comment about the pink pony's inevitably expanding waistline, when –

“CARRIAGE ALERT! SHE'S BACK! SHE'S BACK!!”

Sure enough, the silhouette of a pegasus-drawn carriage was visible through the window, descending to earth near Fluttershy's cottage.

Dash was out the door before most of her companions had even gotten to their feet. She launched herself high into the air and kicked her wings into top gear as she turned in the direction of the cottage. She tore through the sky with all the speed she could muster, far in excess of the Ponyville aerial speed limit (which she herself was almost solely responsible for, the mayor having gotten one too many complaints about broken windows and terrified migrant birds). The speed limit rarely got her consideration anyway, and it certainly wasn't going to slow her down now.

Fluttershy's home was soon below her, and as she descended in a not-so-graceful circular arc, her eye caught the large purple carriage on the ground, the team of pegasi before it just now furling their wings. Dash's hooves smacked into the dirt beside it, and she stood there panting, just as much with excitement as with physical fatigue.

The carriage door swung open, and one by one, unicorns began filing out.

Each one was pretty tall, and pretty old, and, judging by their upright posture and sharply inclined chins, pretty pompous as well. They all reminded Dash of a particularly boring history professor she'd had in junior high, whose class had been the site of almost as much snoozing as her own bedroom. The fourth one out the door was different, though; he was much younger, and his bright red bow tie stood in stark contrast to the drab suits of his comrades.

The fifth and final pony to emerge was Princess Celestia. “Welcome to Ponyville, for those of you who have never ventured here,” she announced.

“Air's a bit dry here,” one of the unicorns muttered to his neighbor. “I do hope we can find a quick fix, air like this does dreadful things to my mane.”

Celestia pranced past them. “Where are your friends, Rainbow Dash?” she asked.

“They're right over...” Dash turned to the winding road that led to Ponyville, and beheld nothing but dirt. “Over there...somewhere. I guess it would've been better to wait for them, huh?” She grinned sheepishly.

Celestia shook her head in admonishment. “I suppose I'll be doing two sets of introductions, then.” She turned to face the unicorns, who were now levitating a number of trunks and boxes out of the carriage. “Gentlemen, this is Rainbow Dash, friend of the pegasus who has been imprisoned. And Rainbow Dash, these are four of the finest academics and scientists in Equestria. They are tasked with releasing Fluttershy from her spell.”

The tallest unicorn stepped forward. “I am Reginald Pranceton of Her Higness's School for Gifted Unicorns – just Pranceton will do between those present here. And these are my fine colleagues and friends: Nick Clopernicus, Charles Darwhinny, and Bill Neigh.”

“Pleased to meet you!” said Bill Neigh, the unicorn with the bow tie. The other two barely managed a curt nod.

“Likewise,” Dash returned. She was starting to feel confused by the group's outward appearance. This was what scientists looked like? From the science fiction books Twilight had lent her, Dash had pictured nerdy young stallions and mares with scruffy manes and unkempt coats, their noses constantly stuck in books and telescopes and all manner of strange instruments. So she'd been expecting a bunch of Twilights, more or less. Bill Neigh sort of looked the part, but the rest would seem more in place at a board meeting for the most boring company in Equestria.

Celestia now addressed the scientists. “You will be staying at the Ponyville Inn. I will arrange for transportation to and from town whenever you require it. Additionally, you will have a courier to bring you whatever you need from Canterlot. If you wish to be shown around the village, I'm sure Rainbow Dash and her friends would be happy to help you – ah, here they come now.”

Dash whipped around to see the distant figures of her friends on the dirt road. “Hey, girls! Over here!” she shrieked, not quite registering that they were far out of earshot.

The scientist named Charles Darwhinny cleared his throat loudly. “Not that I wouldn't adore to spend all afternoon meeting your young acquaintances, Princess, but should we not begin our examinations of the subject post haste? The situation you described to us sounded quite dire, and we wouldn't want to stand here and let it evolve into something worse.”

“My apologies,” said Celestia gracefully. “Fluttershy is just inside the cottage – I will join you there shortly. The carriage will wait for you here, whenever you wish to travel to your lodgings in town.”

The scientists moved toward the door to Fluttershy's house, with Clopernicus putting on a quick burst of speed to reach the head of the pack. “As the senior among us, I will naturally lead the proceedings,” he declared. “Report all of your findings to me at once.”

“Oh, you always did think the world revolved around you,” chided Bill Neigh.

Dash automatically fell in behind them, a droplet of excitement welling up inside her. The experts were here; there was no more need to fret about Fluttershy. More likely than not, one of the scientists would instantly fire off a quick shot of magic and melt the crystal prison on the spot. Dash wanted to be there when it happened, to see the look on Fluttershy's face when she –

“Rainbow Dash, may I have a word?” Dash jumped as Celestia's voice rang out from right behind her.

She followed the Princess away from the door. Dash cast a puzzled look around as she was led all the way around the side of the building, fully obscuring her from view of her friends, who were just now rounding the final bend of the winding path behind her.

Celestia only stopped when they were directly behind the cottage. She turned and gazed down at Dash, who looked back up with a face full of innocence. “I'm really, really sorry I left my friends behind,” she said immediately. “I was thinking only about myself, I forget sometimes that they can't fly around like me. I promise I'll write you a friendship report about it tonight.”

“I look forward to reading it,” said Celestia. She was giving Dash a very deliberate stare, bringing up a sudden unease inside her. “But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I have a request to make of you, Rainbow Dash. Know that I will not be troubled or offended if you decline; I can easily find another pony to fulfill it instead.”

“Okay, I'll do it,” said Dash.

“No.” Celestia shook her head slowly. “I'll require you to hear me out first; I am asking quite a lot of you. This task would force you to put aside your weather duties for a while, and likely some of your free time as well. It would also entail a certain amount of danger – real danger, nothing you would find any delight in facing.”

That dampened Dash's resolve somewhat. But at the same time, she felt her chest rising up with pride. Whatever Celestia was trusting her with was obviously important.

“Normally, I would give a job like this to a highly experienced member of the Guard,” the princess continued. “I offer it to you because of your athletic ability, and because it would give you an opportunity to aid in Fluttershy's rescue –”

“I'll do it,” Dash repeated instantly. “If this is something to help Fluttershy, then that's all I need to know. Tell me what the job is.”

“Well then...so be it.” The faintest trace of a smile had flashed across Celestia's visage, quickly replaced by her expression of seriousness. “Those unicorns will need materials brought to them from Canterlot. If you are willing, I would like you to act as their courier.”

Dash gasped audibly. “A courier? You mean...a royal courier?!” Celestia's couriers were some of the most highly trusted ponies in the kingdom, with access to all kinds of sensitive information. Dash had never met one in person; they weren't supposed to have much personal contact at all, in case they made an ill-minded acquaintance who could talk them into revealing something secret.

“Not exactly, but your responsibilities are similar,” said Celestia. “You will fly to and from Canterlot, bringing them books and whatever else they may require. I do not need to tell you that you must treat this material with the utmost caution. I'd expect much of it to concern very powerful and secret spells, as they search for whatever magic has imprisoned Fluttershy. Most of your trips will be to my personal quarters, to access the private areas of the Canterlot archive.”

“The Canterlot...wait, you're actually letting me into...” Wow. Just...wow. Dash suddenly had trouble containing her excitement. This was an honor beyond the capacity of words to describe. Twilight, the Princess's prized student, didn't even have an inkling of what lay in the private archives. And Dash was about to learn all about it...first-hand...

“It goes without saying,” Celestia said loudly, jerking Dash back to attention, “that you are to do nothing in those sections except to retrieve whatever books the scientists need. Nor are you to read any of the material yourself. The unicorns should tell you enough to identify their requests by the covers alone, and you should ask the guards if you need help finding anything. But do not open a book so much as a crack, or unravel a scroll so much as a millimeter.”

Dash nodded fervently. Then a thought popped up from her mental background. “If some other pony wants a book, can I bring it to them, as long as I get your permission first? I mean, Twilight said she wanted to look at some stuff in there.”

All of a sudden, Celestia's expression became frighteningly severe. “No. I need you to make me a promise, Rainbow Dash. I know your loyalty well, I will trust your word. Promise me that you will share the things you find in those archive with no one except the scientists. Not the Royal Guards, not your friends, and certainly not Twilight.”

“I...” Celestia's severity had startled Dash a bit, but she collected herself and stared up at the alicorn. “I promise.”

“Good.” The princes smiled down at Dash. “A few more details about your assignment, then. Professor Pranceton will be in charge of requesting material from you. I won't require you to spend all your time at his side, but you should check with him as often as possible to see if his team needs anything. And you must not leave any books in Fluttershy's cottage overnight – we cannot risk them being read or stolen. In the evening, gather everything the scientists have left and transport it to Zecora's hut.”

“Zecora?” exclaimed Rainbow Dash. “You want to leave a bunch of secret books in the middle of the Everfree Forest?”

“The forest is more secure than you know,” said Celestia. “Ancient magic is at work there. To the best of my knowledge, it is impossible to use any sort of scrying spells in Everfree, and I have added some of my own protection to the meadow where Zecora lives. This is not the first time I have stored secrets there; it is the safest place you will find anywhere near Ponyville.”

Dash nodded slowly, though she was not at all happy about this caveat. Journeying to Zecora's place and back every evening – and every morning, she realized, to bring everything back to the scientists – would take up a whole lot of her time. For some reason she didn't care to explore, it didn't seem possible to find the hut by flying overhead, so she would have go the whole way by foot.

“Lastly, and most importantly, I must urge you to be careful. Be. Careful. Do not forget that Aurora has returned, and as you venture to and from Canterlot, you are likely to be noticed. Your speed is part of the reason I am allowing you to do this. If you are followed, if you even suspect you are being watched, do not be foolish enough to stand and fight. Fly to Canterlot at full speed. Luna and I can protect you.”

That left Dash feeling quite nervous indeed, but her resolve did not waver. “I understand. And yes, I still want to do this. Nothing is dangerous enough to make me abandon Fluttershy.”

“I thought not,” said Celestia with a warm smile. Now, let us join the scientists and see if they have made any progress. Your friends are already inside.”

Dash followed the princess back around the exterior of the cottage. She still carried around like an overfilled water balloon in her chest. This was the most responsibility she'd ever been given, maybe the most she'd ever have. Her concern for Fluttershy was almost eclipsed by how much she couldn't wait to tell her friends about her new status as courier.

The cottage had transformed into a bustling center of activity. Fluttershy stood in the middle – still trapped, still unmoving, Dash registered with an unpleasant throb of her stomach – and all around her ponies were pacing, conversing loudly with each other, occasionally taking a moment to stare intently at the pegasus's crystalline prison. Twilight Sparkle had joined the scientists; she was hopping back and forth between them, unabashedly eavesdropping on their discussions and throwing in a sideways word wherever she could, though the larger unicorns were ignoring her almost completely. Applejack, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie stood against the wall near the door, looking a bit lost.

“It kind of looks like a giant ruby, you know?” Bill Neigh was saying to one of his colleagues. “I've heard about enchanted gemstones with all kinds of unique magical attributes; could that be what we're dealing with here?”

“Oh, I know all about those!” exclaimed Twilight, running beside them and trying to catch both of their attentions at once. “I live in a library in Ponyville that has several books on the subject, I can go and fetch them if you'd like.”

“I am familiar with such gems,” replied Clopernicus to Bill Neigh, deliberately keeping his eyes far away from Twilight. “This is clearly not one of them. The largest rubies in the world are the size of your hoof; this is many thousands of times too big.”

“But Aurora sounds like a pretty powerful pony,” said Bill Neigh. “Consider the following: could she be able to make an enchanted ruby on her own, only bigger?”

“Certainly not,” scoffed Clopernicus. “Conjure a six-foot ruby out of thin air? The idea is absolutely ludicrous. I will not waste my time pondering such ridiculous notions, and on matters such as these, you would be wise to follow your elder and do the same.”

Twilight let out an incredulous gasp. “You're not even going to consider it? You can't just throw out a hypothesis because it falls outside the parameter space you arbitrarily set up for yourself! That isn't how science works at all!”

“And the same to you,” said Clopernicus with a condescending glance down at the lavender unicorn. He and Bill Neigh turned their tails and pranced over to a different corner of the room.

Rainbow Dash slowly approached her friend, who was shaking her head in muted disbelief. “Made any progress yet?”

“None at all,” said Twilight impatiently, and she strode off to listen in on whatever Charles Darwhinny was saying to Pranceton.

Dash stared after her for a few seconds. She then turned to the rest of her friends, who shrugged back in unison. “That's about as much as she's said to any of us,” Applejack offered. “You know Twi when she's really set on figuring something out. These folks don't seem to appreciate the help, though.”

“That's a shame,” said Dash. “I hope she calms down soon, there's something really cool I need to tell you all –”

“Ahem,” said the voice of Celestia from behind her, and the entire room turned to the princess. “My apologies to the scientists; please carry on with your work. Twilight, I'd like a word with you and your friends outside.”

Twilight obediently followed her teacher out the door, followed by Dash and her companions. Once outside, Celestia faced them and cast a stern gaze over all of them. Dash thought her stare fell on Twilight longer than the rest.

“I understand your concern for your friend. And I know you will all want to be here with Fluttershy as often as you can; you would do so even if I commanded you not to. But you must allow these scientists to do what they came to do. They are the best chance Fluttershy has of being released quickly and safely. Come to observe quietly if you wish, aid them if they ask for anything particular, but do not interfere with their work.”

“Gotcha,” said Dash and Applejack. “Yes, Princess,” said Rarity. Pinkie nodded energetically.

Twilight pawed the ground nervously, then raised her head to meet Celestia. “Princess, I swear I'm not saying this out of pride or selfishness: I truly, honestly think I can help them. You know how good I am at figuring things out! And I obviously know Fluttershy really well, so if the spell turns out to have anything to do with her specifically, I would be invaluable.”

Celestia's expression was hard as stone. “My orders go doubly for you, Twilight. You are not to interfere, and that is final.”

“But –” Twilight's voice broke off for a moment, “But what if they –”

“That is FINAL.” Dash stumbled backward a couple steps from the forcefulness of Celestia's sentence.

Twilight instantly dropped her head to her chest. With a nasty jolt, Dash noticed a slight hint of tears welling up in her eyes.

And suddenly, it all seemed very wrong.

Twilight wasn't allowed to help Fluttershy? Twilight, who had proven time and time again that she had brainpower in almost legendary amounts? Twilight, who the princess had raised as her own protege...and the princess herself had denied her the ability to use her intelligence to save a friend? It was unfair enough to boggle the mind. Even more, spurning the aid of such a brilliant pony was just plain – Dash would never utter this out loud – stupid.

Instead, it was Dash who would get the opportunity to…

“I'm going to rejoin the scientists,” said Celestia, walking around the group and back to the cottage. “I think it best that you all return home for the day. If any new developments come up, you will be told immediately.” She paused in the doorway, and looked straight back at Dash over her shoulder. “Rainbow Dash, I'd like you to join me at your convenience. We need to discuss your assignment with Pranceton and the others.” Then she was gone.

All of her friends were now giving Dash highly quizzical looks. Her heart sank into her hooves. All of a sudden, being the only one of them not expressly forbidden from helping Fluttershy didn't seem like such a great deal.

“Whatever did she mean, your assignment?” asked Rarity politely.

Keeping her voice somber, and trying to ignore the look of shock growing on Twilight's face, Rainbow Dash told them everything.
> Chapter Six - The Scientist
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A single large, waxy candle stood in the corner of the desk, burned low and wobbling uncertainly on the thin strand of wick it had left. Its flickering beams revealed that the desk was brimming with books, books of all colors and sizes, strewn across the wooden surface in great mounds and heaps, in some places stacked up to create makeshift easels upon which other other books lay open and partially read. The great mess of information also covered the floor for several feet in every direction, and among the tomes a baby dragon was fast asleep, his head resting on a slightly crumpled scroll. The dragon had vowed to stay awake with his friend all night if she wanted to – he was her number on assistant, after all – but he'd only made it to around one o'clock before running out of fuel.

As the clock on the far wall of the library ticked its way through the wee hours of the morning, Twilight Sparkle sat alone in the center of her fortress of books. She was absolutely exhausted, at least in an objective sense. Her back sagged under the weight of her upper body and her eyelids felt as though they were made of lead. The bright spark at the tip of her horn had grown dimmer and dimmer; keeping the illumination spell active for so many hours had drained her magic almost entirely. But still she trudged resolutely through book after book. She knew that once her body convinced her how tired it was, she'd be asleep in an instant, and as far as Fluttershy was concerned, that was wasted time.

“The most terrifying magic of the age was held by the Ice Mages of Mount Nardioch,” muttered the unicorn, reading aloud from The Wars of the Northern Mountains, the pages dimly lit by the combination of her spell and the lone candle. She'd spent the past hour or so playing a sort of literary scavenger hunt, following minuscule hints from one book to the next as she searched for whatever magic had imprisoned her friend. She'd arrived here via a passing reference in Mountain Ponies of Equestria, which had in turn been brought to her attention by...she couldn't seem to remember the previous one, which was highly unfortunate because she'd been running a sort of depth-first search on the information graph, and not being able to backtrack would ruin it. Not that she'd be distraught over that; the whole process had led her on a grand tour of science, history, and fantastical folklore, and had turned up essentially nothing.

But now...this book seemed quite promising. “The mages could freeze their enemies, rendering them incapable of movement for nearly an hour's time,” she continued, her tired eyes widening with sudden excitement. “The spells manifested as great spheres around the victim, and were famous for their...brilliant blue hue, which could be seen for miles around.” So much for that, then. Twilight heaved a frustrated sigh and latched her magic onto Mountain Ponies of Equestria, lifting it toward her to begin the search again.

Nothing happened. The book glowed with that familiar purple aura, but sat stubbornly on the desk. Twilight gave it her full attention, running the telekinesis calculations through her head and sending the object a quick jolt of magic, forcing it into the air –

“Ah! Ouch!” she yelped, as a splitting pain erupted in her forehead, as though she'd just unwittingly jabbed her horn into a low-hanging ceiling, while the book fell back to the desk with a soft thud and her illumination spell winked out entirely.

That was it. She literally could not levitate the book. There wasn't enough fuel left in the tank.

Well, crap. Now enveloped in near darkness, she rested back on her haunches and allowed her head to droop. I can't go to bed now. I'll take a little break, just enough to let my magic regenerate, and then I'll get back to work... At once, her exhausted body seized the opportunity and began filling her mind with insidious suggestions, like how wonderful it would feel to close her eyes for just one moment, and how the candlelight dancing across the bookshelves was like something out of a dream, and we should lie down for a bit, there's no way we'll fall asleep down here on the floor, right?

And then Twilight started to think. And her body gave an internal scream of fury, because it knew any hope of sleep had just sublimated.

She thought about the events of the prior day. They had flown at her so hard and fast that she still felt rather overwhelmed. She'd been too busy trying to find the identity of that crystal spell to give what had happened a good hard think; perhaps she had purposefully distracted herself with books to avoid doing so. But there was no more putting it off. She firmly shut her eyes – in concentration, not tiredness – and asked herself the most obvious, most basic question: How do I feel about all this?

She felt...confused. More confused than she'd ever been in her life. There were so many confusing topics that she was confused about which one to be confused by first.

And all those topics barged uninvited into her mental conference room, screaming over one another to make themselves the center of attention, so that all Twilight could make out of the discourse was How did Fluttershy get Celestia told me to But then Aurora might Rainbow Dash gets to help Cast that crystal spell Have to do something or else…

STOP, thought Twilight firmly. She'd dealt with being overloaded by questions before. All of you, single-file line. Now.

There was a great deal of mental pushing and shoving as her thoughts fought to be the first to have the floor. Soon they had grudgingly formed a line, and the most powerful thought, which had already been in her head throughout most of the night, was in front.

So, do we know anything about the spell Aurora cast on Fluttershy yet? asked Thought Number One.

Yes...no...maybe. Twilight had gone through just about every relevant book in the library, and there was quite a number of things the spell might be. However, the fact remained that she had spent about a cumulative ninety seconds examining the thing. She knew it was red, translucent, and nearly spherical. She knew it had lasted at least twelve hours without expending enough magic to fall apart. She knew it was immune to scrying – no, strike that one, too many assumptions – she knew that her single attempt at a Close Range Scrying Spell had come back with nothing. She had also cast a quick Novoa Magicka, which should have dissipated any lingering unshielded magical effects in the area; that too had failed. Anything other than those basic facts was guesswork. Then again, a whole lot of scientific theory got off the ground with guesswork, built a solid case for itself, and came back later to fill in the blanks. With that in mind, Twilight quickly churned through all the information she'd just crammed into her head, and condensed it into four hypotheses.

The first was that the crystal was a ruby, or some other type of enchanted gemstone. Celestia's academic team had been quick to dismiss this one, but the idea was not without some backing. It certainly looked like an oversized ruby, for one. Twilight had devoured all the literature she had on the subject, and found several examples of gems being used to freeze objects in place, be it airborne dust, clocks, even ponies. It sounded remarkably similar to what had happened to Fluttershy. The difference was that these gems were used to immobilize the surrounding area, not the space...inside of them. In any case, Twilight had already devised a simple test to put this one to bed one way or the other, as soon as she could get access to the cottage.

Second hypothesis: the crystal was made of some unknown magical substrate, the nature of which Twilight could hardly even venture a guess. It was a basic tenant of spellcasting that spells performed their function and then vanished, and if you needed a charm with long-lasting effects, it had to be bound to something physical. The rules of how and why this worked were something of a mystery to Twilight; it was almost an entirely separate art from spellcasting altogether. Sadly, that meant that if this was the true hypothesis, then the material surrounding Fluttershy could be absolutely anything. And the Novoa Magicka should have had some effect on it...well, probably.

The third guess was that it was an active spell, keeping the trapped pegasus immobilized while protecting itself from disruption. This was quite literally becoming more improbable by the minute. Spells vanished quickly unless they were sustained; in order to create a persistent spell, it either had to be cast continuously (as in levitation) or engendered with so much magical energy that it could continuously cast itself (as in the great shielding charms that had protected castles in the Median Age of Equestria). The latter generally took the effort of numerous well-practiced ponies, and needed to be re-dosed with magic at regular intervals. Granted, Aurora was supposedly an immensely powerful alicorn, but every second Fluttershy didn't crash through Twilight's window screaming “I'M FREE! I'M FREE!” was another strike against this option.

And the fourth was that the crystal was...something...else. One thing about the mysterious spell was certain: it was a brand of magic Twilight had never encountered before. Aurora had powers beyond her imagination, so it was possible that she simply could not imagine what magic had been performed on Fluttershy. This was not an option she intended to pass up lightly. Restricting her hypothesis space to only things she'd learned to date would be shooting herself in all four legs before the race even began.

Twilight carefully stored the results of this think tank away for further consideration, and invited Thought Number Two to take the stand.

Why won't Celestia let us help our friend?

This one stung. Twilight instantly moved to quell the surge of unpleasant emotions that rose up from her subconscious: confusion, hurt, even an ugly tinge of anger. She could never, ever allow herself to be angry with Celestia, the pony who had given her everything she had. The princess loved and cared for her, she was certain of that, and she was equally sure that there must be very good reasons to bar her from the rescue effort.

Twilight's Fifth Axiom: Princess Celestia is always right.

But why, Celestia, why?

Because she doesn't think we can do anything, offered Common Sense. I mean, is there any other explanation at all?

But how was that even possible? Celestia had known Twilight for years, watched as she grew stronger and smarter, watched her master spell after spell until she could rival any unicorn in Canterlot in magical expertise. Surely her teacher couldn't think that her contribution to the rescue team would be worthless…

But...she could. She really, really could.

No! thought Twilight fervently. Celestia knows better, she's seen how smart I am, how much I'm capable of doing, I'm her PRIZED STUDENT –

Precisely, responded Common Sense with a chill certainty. You are a student. And the unicorns tasked with freeing Fluttershy are adults. This is grown-up business, and no matter how intelligent you may be, Celestia does not think of you as a grown-up.

It was a crushing thought, one that Twilight couldn't believe, didn't want to believe. Hadn't Celestia entrusted her with far more important tasks than this one already? She had defeated Nightmare Moon and freed Luna from her malevolent grip. She had returned Discord, the all-powerful god of chaos, back to his prison of stone. Surely the power she'd demonstrated meant Celestia had to recognize her as an adult, an equal…

Except...it hadn't been Twilight's power or intellect that had ultimately done those things. It had been the Elements of Harmony. Which Celestia knew could only be wielded by Twilight and her friends, and would be useless when it came to saving Fluttershy.

Was Twilight simply a pack mule for the Elements when their power was needed, and Celestia's cute little pet project at all other times?

The wave of anger returned, and Twilight had to work much harder to keep it contained.

Excuse me, piped up Thought Number Four from the back of the line, I might have something to say about this –

Wait your turn, thought Twilight gruffly; she knew the perils of letting her thoughts trip over one another.

It was horribly unfair. Did the princess really think that, just because the Elements of Harmony weren't usable in this one specific instance, her pupil had nothing worthwhile to offer? Twilight knew she could have spearheaded the whole effort herself. She even felt she deserved it; Fluttershy was her friend. But instead Celestia had brought on those scientists…

Just hearing her own mind associate that word with those unicorns gave Twilight a headache. They were not scientists. They were academics, and not very good ones at that. From the moment she'd entered the cottage, she'd seen them do nothing but spout their knowledge at each other in awful condescending tones, as if the counter-spell to the crystal was to patronize it to death. No examination, no scrying, no tests or structured data collection of any kind. Twilight had more science in her left hoof than all of them put together.

...And now she was reduced to denigrating other ponies to make herself feel better. That wouldn't accomplish anything at all. Thought Number Three, what do you have for me?

Did you see how see many pies Pinkie ate for dinner? That was like eight thousand calories, how can she eat so much without spewing it all back up or becoming rounder than –

Not important, grunted Twilight, shooing the question back into the recesses of her mind. Moving on…

So, asked Thought Number Four, what is that evil alicorn up to, exactly?

Aurora. From what Celestia had said, they were dealing with a foe strong enough to almost take down the princess and her guard singlehandedly. Sure, she'd had the extra power of Hayley's Comet backing her up – Twilight was near certain that the comet had been involved in the prior event, the dates matched up perfectly, things like that didn't just turn out to be coincidences – but then again, Celestia had her own magic, so the amplification should have roughly canceled out. Unless Aurora knew of some secret method for augmenting the comet's effects, or maybe she was just so much stronger that the event did have a positive net outcome for her…

In either case, Aurora was shaping up to be a pretty heavy wielder of magic, conventional magic as opposed to whatever eldritch powers alicorns held within. She'd already tried, and barely failed, to make herself the head of Equestria by force. It seemed a reasonable conclusion that she was back for a second try. But if she had succeeded succeeded on her last attempt, if she succeeded this time...what then?

It was pointless to pursue that train of thought any further. All that mattered was that it was definitely not good.

There's still a confusing piece to this, thought Common Sense. Aurora attacked Fluttershy to make sure the Elements were out of her way, that's obvious enough, but why did she do it so early? The comet isn't coming for another six days; why not do it the night before, or even the day of? All she's done is grant us a week-long opportunity to disable her spell and reunite the Elements.

Twilight immediately posed this to her inner jury. Maybe Aurora wasn't positive she'd get the spell right on her first try – that was codswallop, this was the one of the most powerful sorceresses ever that they were talking about. Maybe she was afraid that Celestia would anticipate her return on the arrival of Hayley's Comet, and afford the Elements extra protection in the days leading up to it – but if Celestia had suspected Twilight and her friends were in danger, she would have done that months in advance, not days. Or perhaps removing Fluttershy from the picture was just one of several things Aurora needed to do to prepare for her coup d'etat, one that sat low on the priority list – no, there had to be some nonzero probability that Fluttershy could be rescued in time, the risk was too great...unless…

The jury handed down a unanimous verdict. Unless she's planning to attack the Elements again.

After all, even if Fluttershy couldn't be rescued before the night of the comet, there was a slim chance that another pony might embody the Element of Kindness well enough to work as a stand-in. But if, say, the Element of Magic was unavailable as well...that chance dropped to near zero.

There was a flurry of motion in Twilight's discard pile of thoughts, and suddenly Thought Number Two was back in her mental foreground. You're in danger. Celestia knows you're in danger. Her reason for excluding you could be to keep you as far from the limelight as possible, to keep you inside Ponyville and among your friends, to keep you safe.

Twilight's dismal mood cleared a little at that. The idea that she might be a direct target for Aurora was unnerving, but it was a much happier explanation for Celestia's actions than her thinking Twilight was worthless.

You know, that doesn't add up, rejoined Common Sense. Rainbow Dash was enlisted to help, remember? And not only is she spending time at the cottage, she's flying alone all the way to Canterlot and back. We may have a special standing with Celestia, being her personal student and all, but she wouldn't send Dash on a mission that had a very high probability of getting her hurt. Not to mention, Celestia could keep us safe at the cottage if she wanted to; she could post Royal Guards there, or even protect us herself.

Dash can run away from danger better than I can, Twilight argued. Celestia must think that's enough to keep her from harm. And she has limited resources, she can't start throwing guards at me just because I want to help Fluttershy…

She would do it, if she thought you could add anything worthwhile. Which she doesn't.

Twilight sighed out loud. She couldn't think of a counter-argument to that; the ugly theory that Celestia didn't think of her as a capable unicorn was well on the road to becoming a Fact.

But she was still potentially in danger. Would it be prudent to submit to Celestia's wishes, to abandon her quest to rescue Fluttershy and wait for the pseudo-scientists to do it for her?

Absolutely not, thought Science, who had been deeply offended at the display Celestia's team had put on. Those clowns don't have a chance of figuring it out.

That's just naked paranoia, Common Sense chastised her. We have nothing but speculation to suggest that Aurora plans to attack the Elements again, even less that she's targeting us in particular.

NO, shouted Friendship. Fluttershy is our friend. And unless you can come up with an extremely good reason not to, we help our friends.

Well, that settled that. Twilight gave a mental approving nod to her inner personalities, and then diverted her thoughts to what was really the most central, important question of all: what was her next move?

We get Fluttershy out of that thing, stated Friendship. Explain how that wasn't a stupid question?

Obviously the issue is HOW we're going to do it, thought Common Sense dryly. We've been through just about every book in this library that could tell us anything useful, and we're not allowed to join the...let's just call them academics...because Celestia told us not to.

Not acceptable, said Science flatly. We've got to get down to the cottage somehow. Getting more data on that crystal is the only way to move forward.

Not necessarily, thought Friendship. Let's tone down the cynicism for just a moment, and assume that the academics are at least slightly above total incompetence. We could play a support role for them, ask them what their leads are and do more of our own research. The Canterlot libraries are still open to us. Celstia wouldn't have a problem with that kind of involvement, right?

The academics wouldn't listen to us. Science's inner voice was growing firmer. Besides, studying the crystal ourselves will also tell us a lot more about the nature of Aurora's power, which is honestly even more important than rescuing Fluttershy.

And why exactly is that?! thought Friendship incredulously.

Because learning about Aurora is a good idea even if Fluttershy is already dead.

Twilight's physical eyes flew open in shock. If Fluttershy...if Fluttershy was already... She couldn't believe that her own brain had produced such an appalling notion. The remainder of her queued up Thoughts gave frightened yelps and vanished into smoke, and the whole of her consciousness seemed to pile against one side of her mind, desperately trying to escape the terror of the idea.

I mean it, said the voice of Science, sounding surprisingly calm and collected amidst her mental turmoil. You have to consider it as a possibility.

No, thought Twilight weakly. Just, no... But her thoughts were already drifting back to the cottage, to the sight of her friend completely encased in an unknown impenetrable medium, standing stock-still and motionless as a stone...and if she wasn't moving, that meant she wasn't breathing either...and if she wasn't breathing...

Friendship and Common Sense quickly organized into a joint coalition. Looking at it from Aurora's perspective...killing Fluttershy just doesn't make any sense. She could've used any ordinary bit of combat magic to do that. But instead she used some ancient and powerful spell that left her shielded from us, but completely unharmed. She wouldn't have gone through all that trouble if she just wanted Fluttershy dead...

Guesses and rationalization, Science fired back. We don't actually know anything about Aurora's spell, and we don't know what her intentions are either.

We're just using what we do know to prune the problem space as much as possible! thought the coalition fervently. To make it easier to solve! That's all!

But alarm bells were sounding in Twilight's head, the ones she'd trained herself to hear when her thoughts weren't being honest with her.

You're not removing possibilities because they're unlikely, thought Science. You're removing them because they scare you. That strategy doesn't make problem solving easier; it makes it impossible.

Twilight forcibly swallowed a growing lump in her throat. This was what science was all about, after all: taking the entire world of possible explanations into consideration, and testing, pruning, refining them until you found the ones that were true. If the truth wasn't in the initial set, you were doomed before you ran a single experiment. Twilight had made difficult admissions to herself before, in the course of science; it was an ability she took great pride in, one that many scientists never figured out at all. But that was usually just admitting that she was wrong. It hurt her to do that, sometimes, but it was nothing compared to...compared to this...

Perhaps this was a test. A test to see just how pure of a scientist she really was.

It's just not right, said the lone voice of Friendship, for Common Sense had elected to switch sides. Friends shouldn't think...shouldn't even be ABLE to think such horrible things about each other.

We're only searching for the truth, thought Science calmly. If the truth holds something terrible for our friend, then that's a fault with the universe, not with us. And if it doesn't, then we owe it to our friend to keep our problem solving process in perfect form. It's the only way we're going to save her.

The candlelight dancing across the walls seemed to pause mid-flicker, awaiting her answer.

Twilight opened her mouse, and said in a tiny whisper, as if she was afraid of hearing it herself, “I am willing to consider possibilities in which Fluttershy is already dead.”

Then she closed her eyes, and braced herself with all her might. She expected a sudden surge of emotion, to feel that she had just done something horrible, to fall to the floor and start sobbing uncontrollably...

But the anguish didn't come. Instead, she felt...

It wasn't a happy feeling, or a sad one, or much a feeling at all. It was clarity, sharp and cutting, stripping all the confusion away from her mind. Science had won. The problem of Fluttershy's entrapment was now just that, a problem, and Twilight was fully prepared to solve it, even though she knew how awful the solution might be. And although a small corner of her mind observed that it wasn't exactly fair for this new state of mind to judge itself, she felt certain she'd made the right choice.

So, how did she proceed from here? Twilight posed this question to her brain, and almost immediately the answer was there, clear and unchallenged, so mind-numbingly obvious that the whole night in retrospect seemed like the misadventures of a dimwitted comic relief.

She got to her hooves, groaned softly as she stretched out her aching limbs, and trekked across the maze of scattered books to the staircase, extinguishing the candle with a feeble gust of magical wind as she passed. She didn't need research; spending so many hours reading about a phenomenon on which she had practically no baseline information was completely pointless, and her mind was so exhausted that she probably wouldn't remember half the stuff she'd read anyway. What she needed was data, and the only way to get it was to march down to the cottage and collect it herself. Even more importantly, she needed sleep, and there wasn't much time left for that; dawn was only a few hours away, and dawn was when she would begin her investigation, because in order to stay out of the academics' way, she had to finish her work before they arrived.

She reached the stairs and began to climb toward her room, to the bed where she would no doubt fall asleep in an instant. Naturally, she'd need to take care that Celestia didn't find out about her plans. Not that she was directly disobeying an order from the princess, she'd only been told not to interfere with the team's mission, not that she couldn't go off on her own separate efforts. Nevertheless, it was safer to keep the whole thing a secret, in case Celestia did end up forbidding it, which would obviously just be a mistake on her part –

NO, rang out the voice of the Axioms, slicing through even the dense calmness that Science had imposed on her. We do NOT ignore the wishes of Celestia.

But what if her wishes are based on flawed logic? Twilight protested. What if, just this once, she's wrong about –

Twilight's Fifth Axiom: Princess Celestia is always right.

But...but... Twilight was dimly aware that she was arguing against the Axioms themselves, the most fundamental building block of her thought process, the part of herself that was truly responsible for everything she'd ever accomplished...but something told her that this was an argument she needed to have. Look, Celestia's reasoning is based on the notion that there's nothing I can do for Fluttershy. That I'm not smart enough to help. That's just unilaterally wrong, isn't it?

Well, of course. Twilight's Third Axiom: I am a smart –

But according to Twilight's Fifth Axiom, Princess Celestia –

Twilight's Third –

And then the Axioms went into a coughing fit, and although Twilight asked them repeatedly what to make of all this, they would say nothing more.

It was with a sense of dull confusion that Twilight at last dropped onto her bed. She lay awake for several long, long minutes, replaying in her mind the thoughts that had caused the Axioms to abandon her, until her physical and mental fatigue took over and she fell into an uneasy sleep.

Twilight's Third Axiom: I am a smart pony.

Twilight's Fifth Axiom: Princess Celestia is always right.

These weren't arbitrary guidelines to dictate how Twilight solved problems. They were axioms. They were the most basic rules for describing the world as she saw it. They were more than just tools for discovering truth; they were Truth itself.

So why did they now seem to contradict one another?