Twilight noticed she was missing that book when she quadruple checked her knapsack. She needed that book for her plans today. She would participate in a guided tour of the ruins by the Rambling Rock Ridges, just outside the Everfree Forest. No pony knew who built those ruins but scholars believed they represented one of the earliest pony settlements. One scholar proposed the ruins were constructed by ponies enamored by the light of the moon, citing the lunar architecture and the way moonlight could always pierce through the structures. This scholar theorized that this site could house the fabled artifact ponies had sought for millennia, a diamond so pristine and shimmering with a whiteness likened to the moon at its peak, the Eye of the Moon. Ever since the Canterlot Ruins and Artifacts Preservation Society took interest in the site a month ago, they placed the ruins under their protection and planned guided tours to stimulate public interest. Twilight bought a tour ticket in advance the instant she heard. Not only was this an opportunity to potentially find an important relic, she was going to learn more about ancient pony history. That alone excited her. In her excitement, she nearly forgot her book on ancient runes. She would need it if she wanted to translate any messages left by these ponies.
“Spike,” she called to her assistant sweeping the floor a few feet away. “Could you fetch my book on ancient runes? I think I left it on the table in the foyer.”
“On it,” Spike replied as he scampered away. She checked her bag a final time before heading to meet Spike in the foyer. Honestly, she could have retrieved the book herself. The foyer was the adjacent room so it was not far away. Relying on Spike must be a habit she supposed.
“And don’t forget the list of chores I left you,” she called. “Once you’re through with those you can take the day off.”
“Okay,” Spike answered with a tinge of annoyance. Starlight left for the Crystal Empire to spend the week with Sunburst, so he couldn’t count on any help from her. He could do Twilight’s chores. It would just take longer without help.
Twilight entered the foyer as Spike stretched his hand over the tall, dark table to grab the thick, pocket-sized book. Twilight froze at the sight. If this were any other table, she would not have thought twice, but her parents sent this table from Canterlot. It had been in their home since she was a filly, quietly serving its purpose without complaint. Five years ago, Spike could never reach the tabletop without standing on his toes. Now, he reached the book with both feet firmly on the ground.
“Here, Twi,” Spike’s voice brought Twilight back to the present as he handed her the book. She nodded, placing the book in her knapsack. “Something wrong?”
“What?” Twilight realized she had been staring at Spike. She shook her head and smiled, “No, it’s nothing. I was just thinking.”
“You have plenty of time for thinking,” Spike said, “ but if you don’t get going in the next five minutes, you’ll miss the train.” He pointed to a clock hanging from the wall. Twilight glanced at the clock and realized it was 9:30 am. Thanking Spike, she headed out the door. Twilight turned to look back. From the open door, Spike waved a clawed hand with a friendly smile. She raised her hoof to reciprocate the gesture. Waving back felt difficult, taxing to her heart. Nevertheless, she waved back and headed to the station.
The image of Spike reaching over the table without standing on his toes lingered in her mind even as she boarded the train and took her seat. Twelve years ago, she hatched the little drake from an egg as part of her magic school entrance exam. Back then, he could fit in a little crib, no bigger than a cardboard box. Now, he reached her shoulders and needed a bed of his own. Granted it was a small bed, but it was still bigger than his previous bed.
Well, what did she expect? She knew that he couldn’t stay a newborn forever, and sooner or later he would have to grow up. That’s what she did. That’s what Cadence did. Even Shining Armor grew up. He had his own child now, his own family, his own responsibilities. He was still her brother. She just didn’t get to see him everyday like she did when they were children. That didn’t mean they stopped caring about each other, just that they both had their own roles now. They were lucky. The distance between them was only geographical, not harsh and bitter. If she wanted, she could visit him whenever she wanted or he could visit her. So why didn’t he ever visit her? After she left Canterlot, she only saw him again for his wedding, which she only learned through Celestia’s invitation. It wasn’t his fault, she knew that, but she couldn’t help wondering if their time apart made them grow further apart.
As the train lurched out of the station, her head jerked back to her seat and her mind back to Spike. He was growing up. She always knew that. Confronting the facts left her feeling not proud, but uncomfortable. Spike was growing up. What if that meant growing apart from her?
“If you’ll follow me to the courtyard, we’ll continue our tour,” the guide’s voice interrupted Twilight’s scribbling.
The unnamed ruins were vast, extending miles in several areas, but only a portion of the buildings had withstood the centuries. This in no way diminished the tour. Around her, tourists and reporters snapped photographs while Canterlot Professors took notes, their quills scratching parchment furiously. Few of them paid an alicorn attention faced with the stone amphitheaters and domed towers. The stone columns, tiled path, the arches resembling a waxing crescent moon, and the temples with images of the stars and legends carved into the stone were all breathtaking, lending only glimpses of the long gone inhabitants. Twilight estimated that with modern technology, it would take ponies years to achieve this level of aesthetic design. Even with the architecture before her, Twilight’s mind wandered back to a little dragon. Here she was enjoying herself, trying to solve an ancient mystery, while he was probably still at home cleaning the dishes or reshelving her books. Every observation, translation, and theory she wrote felt half-hearted, performed by a distant being. She shook her head, turning her attention towards the tour guide.
As ponies gathered around, the tour guide cleared his throat. He ushered them to the center of the courtyard where a large rectangular panel jutted out from the tile path. The large panel, ten by twenty feet Twilight estimated, was split into square tiles. Twilight counted fifty of the two by two feet tiles total, which divided the larger panel like a jigsaw puzzle. Each square had a unique emblem engraved into the stone. Despite Twilight’s frantic searching, none of these emblems appeared in her books. As a whole, the rectangle seemed an incoherent, amoeba-like design. She turned to an empty page in her journal and copied the design.
The tour guide gestured to the stone, “As you can see, the ponies of long ago constructed this perplexing pattern that archeologists have yet to make sense of. No pony is certain about their function, but leading theories include the emblem served a purpose of moon worship or the individual tiles represented important individuals, such as chieftains, scribes, or warriors. As you can see, each tile has an individual design that has never been transcribed. Scholars are debating whether these tiles form a unique language and attempting to decipher a possible code. Of course, this is all speculation. The true meaning may be lost in time.” Twilight recorded the tour guide’s words on a separate page.
“Now if you’ll look closely, you—,” the guide stopped midsentence. He put his hoof to a black earpiece, where a radio voice spoke, and turned away from the tourists. After a minute, he removed his hoof and faced the tourists with an apologetic gaze. “I’m sorry folks, but I’ve just received word that there’s a storm approaching. Nothing too serious just some fierce winds. Unfortunately, we’ll have to conclude the tour here. The ruins can be unstable in such weather.” Several ponies groaned. “So if you’ll exit the ruins, we have temporary lodgings set up to wait out the storm. It might take three to four hours, but we’ll resume the tour afterwards.”
Ponies grumbled as they trudged back outside. Twilight herself was disappointed, but walked with the rest of them. She had a train to catch in two hours. She couldn’t stay and wait out the storm. Well, she could catch the next train or even teleport home, but her heart wasn’t ready for waiting or up to magic right now. She broke off from the group and headed across the gravel pathway through the forest. The train station came in sight, the lone concrete platform seemed out of place in the middle of the forest. Twilight walked up the steps and took a seat on a bench, beneath the suspended metal roof.
She examined the panel she transcribed from the ruins. Seeking some diversion, she decided to attempt her own deciphering. After ten minutes, she had the childish idea to rearrange the square tiles. After an hour, she had rearranged the tiles into a coherent image. The once meaningless tiles now formed an intricate symbol of the moon, of a mare wearing a crown surrounded by loyal bat ponies armed with spears, with spearheads shaped like stars. In the mare’s eye, Twilight could see a moon. At least, she assumed it was a moon. The night imagery combined with this civilization’s love of the moon allowed such an interpretation. Yet, there was a much larger full moon behind the mare. The moon in her eye had rays pouring from its center like a jewel shining in the sun. She noted the bat ponies’ spearheads aligned with the constellation Orion’s belt. She cracked the code. She decoded the message left by these ponies and found a clue to where an ancient relic might be. Twilight should have been excited. But even as she wrote her interpretation and conclusion, she found herself disappointed. She glanced to a brown clock hanging from a pillar and found her disappointment increasing.
She snapped her journal shut. This was pointless. She shouldn’t be out here searching legends. She should have been back at home. There would always be ruins to explore, but there would only be one Spike. He was growing up right now, and Twilight was still obsessed with academics as she was before coming to Ponyville. She went slack jawed. All this time she had been learning about the magic of friendship, but she neglected her oldest friendship. When was the last time she hung out with Spike and they weren’t doing a chore or saving the world? Her mind drew a blank. She had to get home.
Spike emptied the dust from the dustpan to its new permanent home in the trashcan. He covered his nose to stifle a sneeze. He didn’t want to set anything on fire. Spike returned the dustpan and brush to the closet before picking up his chore list and crossing off another task. Time for the final trial. The one chore that tested his mental endurance to the extreme: reorganizing Twilight’s books. Might not seem like an incredibly tough chore, but Twilight had thousands of books on practically every subject imaginable and reinvented her painstakingly meticulous organization system every three months. The chore list described the new organization system in detail, but Spike wasn’t sure he could understand it. For starters, why did Twilight want the books on realism close to books on modernism? Based on all the books detailing the debate between the subjects, he assumed they were archrivals. What even was modernism? He could remember two scholars going through hundreds of pages of baffling analysis only to conclude, “we don’t know what it is.” Modernism aside, a lot of Twilight’s books on physics, literary movements, mathematics, and ancient records baffled him. Sometimes, Spike wondered if they were written in a foreign language, some new hybrid of English. Classification was strenuous when he didn’t even understand the book’s content.
He sighed and picked himself up. His mind wandered a lot when he was left to his own devises Spike realized as he walked to the library. The castle could get lonely with only an owl for company. Ever since Twilight came to Ponyville, he ended up housesitting on a daily basis. Not that he minded. After so many years stuck in her books, Spike was glad to see Twilight made so many friends, even if he was a little jealous of those friends when Twilight left him alone for them. Opening the door, Spike faced countless books piled on the shelves several feet high. He reviewed the list again trying to grasp her new system well enough to accomplish the most obvious rearrangements. Dropping the letter on a table in the center of the room, Spike grabbed the ladder and wheeled it over to the center column. He examined the selection on the fifth shelf and located a headache-inducing book on literary time manipulation. He retrieved the book and swung his leg out, shifting the ladder to the adjacent shelf. Using guesswork, he placed the new book in place when a sudden banging door shocked him. He lost his grip and fell from the ladder.
He wrapped his hands around his face, bracing for impact when a violet aura caught him feet from the ground and gently placed him down. Spike twisted his head and saw Twilight rushing over to him.
“Oh my gosh,” she stammered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Twi,” he smiled. “Thanks.” Spike leaned forward, “Wait, what are you doing here? I thought the tour was over at 2 pm?”
“The weather got bad so the tour was postponed,” she explained, depositing her knapsack on the table on top of Spike’s list. “I didn’t want to miss the train so I decided to cut my tour short.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Spike brushed off some dust. “Anyways, I just started reshelving your books, so I’ll just get back to it.”
“Oh, um okay.” Spike moved back to the ladder, wary of Twilight’s eyes trained on his back. He didn’t exactly like working with some pony staring at him. He turned around to catch her, but Twilight shifted her eyes at the last second. He rolled his eyes and took a step onto the ladder.
“Actually Spike,” Twilight’s hesitant voice turned the dragon around. He sighed, wondering what new organization system she had developed in the hours she had been away. She swallowed, pursing her lips. Spike raised an eyebrow but Twilight kept fidgeting.
“Sorry, but I’d really like to get back to my work,” Spike said as he turned back to the ladder. He climbed back up to the shelf and looked through the titles. He could still feel Twilight gazing at him. Now he was worried. Had he done something wrong?
“Hey Spike,” Twilight started. His head swiveled to meet her gaze. She pursed her lips, “I was wondering if you’d like to go out and see a movie or something?”
Spike blinked in surprise. They hadn’t really gone to the movies together since Twilight was a filly. Usually they went to see some romantic comedy or educational film. They did go to a Power Ponies Movie a few years ago, but Twilight kept ridiculing the science and absurd costumes. It hadn’t exactly been delightful, even after she stopped talking and tried to enjoy the film. He guessed Twilight had some movie in mind that she wanted to see.
“Um, I was going to go see Rarity,” he said climbing down the ladder, “but sure, I guess we can check out a movie.” Well, he thought, whatever the movie, it has to beat reordering the library. He asked, “What do you want to see?”
Twilight beamed before her smile dropped for a second. Spike had no idea what to make of that gesture. She shrugged before putting on a smile, “Why don’t you pick?”
If Spike had water in his mouth, he would have shamelessly performed a spit take. “Seriously? The last time we went to see a movie I chose, you kept pointing out how everything was scientifically and historically inaccurate.”
“Not this time.” Twilight said, “You choose whatever movie you want to watch and I’ll pay for both of us.”
“Really?” Spike asked with a grin.
“I promise,” she smiled. Soon, they settled on a new Power Ponies Movie and Spike kissed his date with modernism goodbye.
Spike believed in karma. He learned through experience that misbehavior usually brought misfortune. Sometimes, not always, good deeds would be rewarded. But he had no idea what good deed he had done to earn this. Even as Twilight ordered their tickets, he could not make sense of it. He knew the whole “don’t look a gift horse in the mouth” saying, but he couldn’t help wondering why Twilight was being so generous today. They entered the chilly movie theater and Spike found he could no longer hold back his curiosity.
“Twilight, what’s going on? Why are you so interested in spending time with me?” He asked.
Twilight glanced at him with a solemn look that was quickly replaced with a weak smile, “Do I need a reason to spend time with my number one assistant?”
“I guess not,” Spike shrugged. “But are you alright—?”
“Great!” Twilight interrupted, “Now lets get some popcorn.”
“Hold on,” Spike said. “You never let me eat popcorn. You said it’s flavored cardboard cavities waiting to happen.”
“Well, I’m making an exception for today.”
“Why? I mean I’m not complaining,” his mouth watered with each word, “but what’s special about today?”
“Today is just for the two of us,” Twilight placed a hoof on Spike’s shoulder. “I’ve been thinking. We don’t spend much time together these days, do we?”
“I see you everyday, Twilight,” Spike chuckled.
“Exactly,” she drew closer to him, “we just see each other. We never really stop to just talk about how we’re feeling or do anything fun together. We’ve become roommates who just exist in the same house. I don’t want that for us. You’re my oldest friend, Spike, and I want to keep our friendship strong.”
“By bribing me?” Spike asked.
“This isn’t a bribe,” Twilight exclaimed. “It’s a reward. Think of it as a thank you for standing by me all these years. Now come on, we’re going to miss the show.”
Spike decided to accept Twilight’s reward. He had to admit she was right. They didn’t spend much time together these days unless Equestria was in danger. Sometimes, he let an ungracious thought slip that Twilight only thought of him as an intern. He knew that wasn’t true, but lately, he had felt a bit neglected. He smiled and followed her to the confections stand. Twilight bought a bag of overly priced popcorn before heading to the theater with her favorite dragon.
Twilight actually liked the movie so far. Sure it had mares and stallions in absurd spandex costumes, but it was harmless fun. She found herself more engaged with the characters and the witty humor than she expected. Spike certainly seemed to be enjoying himself. The dragon hadn’t taken his eyes off the screen the moment the movie started. He just sat there wearing a giddy smile that swept Twilight’s heart with joy. No pony could see that smile and not smile back. She turned her attention back to the screen. As entertaining as the movie was, Twilight still could not shake off her worry. The image of Spike growing into an adult and them growing apart clung to her mind. For now, she enjoyed her time with Spike while it lasted.
A few hours later, they left the movie theater and Spike was still geeking out.
“That was epic! I knew they were rebooting the franchise but I didn’t think it’d be this great. They not only respected Hum Drum and gave him new powers and an actual purpose, they nailed Zapp and Miss Mare-velous’s rivalry.”
“I’ll say,” Twilight nodded. “It was almost like watching our Rainbow Dash and Applejack competing. Are they always that reckless?”
“Well, this is a reboot so they were just getting with the superhero biz. None of them are the best ponies before they take on their roles,” Spike explained. “I mean Masked Matter-Horn is kind of stuck up in the comics until she met the other Power Ponies.”
“Really? How so?” She looked at Spike with playful narrow eyes. He remembered when they were transported into his comic book Twilight became Masked Matter-Horn.
“Well, you know she just,” he twiddled his fingers awkwardly, “didn’t really talk to other ponies.”
“I see,” Twilight laughed. She decided to change the subject. “And in the end, Hum Drum had to defeat Eclipso. I liked the part where he trapped him in an infinite time loop until Eclipso gave into his demands.”
“Yeah, whoever they got to play Hum Drum was excellent. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to see Hum Drum become the main character.” Spike smiled, “And that clip after the credits was so perfect.”
“I wanted to ask you about that,” Twilight said. “Who exactly was that big orange dragon with those funny rings?”
“That’s Draco Destroyer,” Spike explained. “Only the most evil being in the Power Ponies Universe. Whenever he comes around, the ponies are in for the fight of their life. See, each of his rings has a different power and together they can destroy planets.”
“That seems overpowered,” Twilight said. “Who could stand up to something like that?”
“Usually only Saddle Rager has the brute strength to match Draco. I mean Draco’s beaten her multiple times in the comics, but he always says that Saddle Rager is one of the few superheroes he tries to avoid fighting. When the Power Ponies work together, they can hold their own against Draco. Actually, some goofball character called the Chipmunk beat him, or the comics implied she might have beaten him or a clone of him somehow. But anyways, Draco is going to mean a whole new challenge for the Power Ponies.”
Twilight nodded with a smile, even though she understood Spike’s comic jabber as well as he understood modernism. At some point, they both had to nod their heads and just accept whatever the experts said, even if they seemed to speak in a foreign language. So Twilight kept smiling and pretended she understood every word Spike said. Spike stopped talking about superheroes and turned to Twilight.
“Thanks for doing this, Twi,” he said. “I had a lot of fun today.”
“We’re not done yet,” Twilight said. “The day’s still young and there’s so much we can do.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Just a minute, it’s your decision. I want to do something you want to do.” Twilight said, “So, what do you want to do now, Spike?”
“Um,” he thought a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time Twilight asked him where he wanted to go or let him decide what they would do. Consequently, he wasn’t sure where he wanted to go. “We could go to Sugar Cube Corner, Carousel Boutique, or Sweet Apple Acres.”
“Come on. We can go anywhere in Equestria,” Twilight said. She gasped with excitement, “How about Cloudsdale? You couldn’t come with us for the flyers competition so why not give you the grand tour now?”
Spike’s eyes widened, “Really? Are you pulling my leg? Cloudsdale isn’t exactly next door.”
“Of course I mean it. Don’t you want to go visit?”
“I’d love to!”
“Then it’s settled.” Twilight said. “I’ll just cast a spell to let you walk on clouds and we’re off.”
“I can’t believe you got all the Wonderbolts to give me their autographs,” Spike beamed as he proudly held the parchment bearing the signatures of every Wonderbolt Captain.
“Well, I am a princess,” Twilight said. “And my word is absolute. Plus, Rainbow Dash helped the request get through to Spitfire.”
“I’ll be sure to thank her when I see her,” Spike said. “And thank you, Twi.”
“It’s my pleasure, Spike,” she said. “Do you want to see the Rainbow Factory?”
“Can we?”
“Absolutely. They’re open for tours. Then we can see this year’s Best Young Flyer Competition. Dash got us front row seats.”
They walked along the clouds, which felt fluffy to Spike’s feet, yet solid as concrete. He tried tasting one but got a mouthful of water and gas. Twilight laughed and soon he joined in. Placing the parchment in his new Wonderbolt themed backpack, also courtesy of Twilight, Spike hurried across the clouds to a tall building with circular chimneys that exhaled clouds. He always had this idea that factories were filthy and spewed constant filth, but this factory produced milky clouds that melted into the blue skies and the windows shimmered with vivid red, yellow, orange, and purple.
“This is where they make rainbows?” Spike asked.
“And clouds and snow flakes,” Twilight said.
“Wait, if this factory makes clouds, where did the clouds we're standing on come from? I mean the factory had to exist before the clouds, right?”
“Well, I could tell you,” Twilight said. “But that probably wouldn’t be as fun as seeing the factory.” With that, she joined a tour group and a pegasus showed them through the factory. The pegasus was short and had a groomed haircut. Twilight guessed she was an intern, using this occupation to gain experience for a future career. In any case, she knew her stuff. She led the group through the factory with a cheerful smile as she explained the function of every individual machine and the history of the factory with skillful tact. Twilight was certain any questions Spike had were answered now. As they approached the rainbow hallway, she noticed Spike staring through the viewing window as the factory churned out new rainbows.
He cupped his mouth and whispered to her, “What do you think rainbows taste like?
“Don’t.”
“I wasn’t going to. I was just curious.”
“Sure you were,” Twilight rolled her eyes and chuckled.
Spike yawned as they approached the castle. This had been a fantastic afternoon. He couldn’t remember the last time he had so much fun with Twilight. Still, he was tired. As they entered the castle, Spike turned and gave Twilight a big dragon hug around her chest.
“Thank you so much, Twilight.” He smiled, “I had a lot of fun today.”
“Me too, Spike,” she said, returning Spike’s hug.
They broke from the hug and Spike yawned once again, “I think I’m going to turn in.”
“Me too,” Twilight agreed. As Spike went to his room, Twilight dwelled on their hug. She found herself wondering how much longer she would be able to hug him before he outgrew her. Sooner or later, she might not be able to wrap her hooves around him. She hoped he never outgrew hugs or came to see them as foolish.
Twilight retired to her room and sank into her bed. She closed her eyes, ready to sleep. Then, she remembered the wonderful day she and Spike shared and their hug. Those memories were tempered by the memory of Spike reaching over the table, and she had to face a terrible question. How much longer would this last? With that thought, any respite became impossible. Twilight shifted to her other side and focused on her breathing but found sleep unachievable. She couldn’t sit here snoozing when Spike was growing up with each passing day. Sooner or later, she might not be able to spend time with him, fit her hooves around him for a simple hug, or even have him there to greet her whenever she came home.
She jolted out of bed. One day with Spike wasn’t enough to make up for the weeks she left him alone. Throwing off her covers, she raced to her desk, turned on a lamp, and pulled out parchment, ink, and a quill. Twilight swore Spike had her full attention tomorrow and all days following. She charted their schedule together for the rest of the week. By the time she was satisfied with her punctilious and carefully plotted schedule, the night had ended.