//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 Inspiration // Story: Some Pony to Watch over Me: Twilight and Spike Style // by Zephyr Spark //------------------------------// “Hey Twilight,” Spike said after breakfast. Her glare, still bitter from last night, softened when she looked at him. He chose his next words carefully, hoping not to offend her. Last night, he thought about reaching out to some pony to talk sense into Twilight. Now he had to bring her to their friend without arousing any suspicion. “Do you think we could visit Rarity today?” Twilight retrieved a scroll from her saddlebag and unrolled it. The words on the parchment were blurry and almost illegible. They already deviated from her schedule when Spike’s alarm clock went off twenty minutes late, no harm in a bit more deviation. She nodded and off they went. Spike twiddled his fingers and bit his lip. When he considered which of his friends to reach out to, his mind went first to Rarity. She was levelheaded, considerate, and always made time for her friends. AJ or Fluttershy could have given some sound advice too, and he considered reaching out to them. He had a better excuse to bring Twilight to Rarity. She would understand how much he wanted to see his crush. He hoped Rarity could get Twilight back on track. Spike and Twilight walked through Ponyville, receiving the occasional hello and ponies frequently staring at Twilight’s mess of a mane. He said hello to any greeting meant for Twilight, who was incapable of focusing on much beyond him. They reached Carousel Boutique. Spike approached the door and knocked, hearing a familiar, melodious “just a minute” from inside the store. The door opened and there stood the designer Rarity. She opened her mouth to offer her customer salutations but recognized Spike and greeted him with a smile. Before she could say hello, she saw Twilight and did a double take, suppressing a scream. Spike couldn’t blame her reaction, but had to admire the way she quickly masked her shock and invited them inside. Spike noticed she was wearing spectacles, a clear indicator she was in the middle of working. “Why don’t you two lie down on the sofa?” She gestured to a purple cushioned couch. “I’ll go put on some tea.” “Mind if I help?” Spike said, hoping for an excuse to get away from Twilight and talk to Rarity. Thankfully, Rarity accepted his help. Before Twilight could even rise and offer her help, Rarity pushed the alicorn back into the sofa. “Twilight dear, why don’t you give us some privacy? I’m sure Spikey-wikey and I can manage just fine.” Rarity and Spike left Twilight on the sofa and headed to the kitchen. When Spike shut the door, Rarity whispered in an urgent voice, “What happened to Twilight? She looks absolutely horrid!” He explained everything to Rarity, starting from the day Twilight visited the ruins. She listened attentively, putting a pot of water on the stove to make tea. Might as well convince Twilight they were just making tea. Spike finished his explanation as she put tea bags into three cups and prepared tea. “And that’s why I came to you,” Spike said. “Nothing I’ve said is getting through to her.” “Did you try saying you don’t need her spoiling you anymore?” Rarity suggested as she placed the cups on a platter. “During dinner last night, yeah.” Spike said. “But she just got this strange look on her face, like she was about to cry, and then she became angry and shut me down, like I was being unreasonable.” “You shouldn’t blame her too much, darling,” Rarity said as she mixed sugar and lemon into the tea. “When ponies don’t sleep, they get irritable and cranky. They can have difficulty controlling their emotions. Believe me, I know.” She blew on the steaming tea, and furrowed her brow. “Of course that doesn’t excuse her for taking it out on you.” “If this keeps up, she’ll wear herself to the bone,” Spike clutched his head. “Then, she won’t be ready if Tirek or some other bad guy comes back. Who’s going to teach Starlight about friendship? Or write letters about friendship? Or take care of the castle?” “Calm down,” Rarity placed her hoof on Spike’s shoulder. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll offer to style Twilight’s mane and ask you to go upstairs and help Sweetie Belle with some homework. Then, I can talk to her alone. Just tell Sweetie Belle everything and she’ll play along.” “You think so?” “She is my sister,” Rarity said, picking up the tray and carrying the teacups to the door. They found Twilight staring at the kitchen door from her sofa perch with skeptical eyes. When she saw Spike returning, she relaxed slightly but kept her head bent over like a vulture, a very messy, purple vulture with insomnia. Rarity placed the silver platter on a cedar brown coffee table and levitated a cup to Twilight and picked one out for herself. Twilight mumbled her thanks and sipped the tea. She glanced at Spike and the remaining teacup and then back to him. He plucked the cup and swallowed the scalding drink in one gulp. Immunity to burns was a nice perk to being a dragon. “So,” Rarity began, “Spike told me you two went to Cloudsdale a few days ago.” “That’s right,” Twilight said. “We toured the Rainbow Factory and saw the Best Young Flyers Competition.” “That brings back memories,” Rarity smiled. “Seems only yesterday Rainbow Dash performed a sonic rainboom for those judges and saved me. Did you see any good flyers?” “None as good as Dash,” Spike said. “But there were a few nice flyers. We went to Appleloosa yesterday. There was a great rodeo going on.” “Why darling,” Rarity gasped and looked at Twilight, “that sort of humidity in Cloudsdale and the heat of Appleloosa. It’s simply no good for a lady’s mane. You must let me straighten yours out.” “I’m fine,” Twilight said. Rarity ignored Twilight and led her to a chair in front of a mirror. She opened a drawer on the desk beneath the mirror, pulled out a plastic sheet, and wrapped it around Twilight. She then levitated a comb, a hairbrush, a hair drier, and mane gel. Before Twilight could complain, Rarity began working on her mane. “Oh, I just remembered,” Rarity said, “I promised I’d help Sweetie Belle with her homework, but I can’t now that I’ve started styling your mane. Oh whatever shall I do?” Spike didn’t miss a beat, “I could help her. I’m not really into this mane grooming stuff anyways.” “Would you? Thank you, Spikey-Wikey,” Rarity winked. “She should be upstairs.” Spike nodded and walked to the stairway. He reached the second floor and came to a white door. He knocked and heard Sweetie Belle’s voice. The door opened and the white unicorn stood before him. Spike forgot how cute she was. She reminded him of a little Rarity with youthful stamina and unflagging enthusiasm. Sure, he had a crush on Rarity and probably would forever, but he found Sweetie Belle charming. “Hey Spike,” said Sweetie Belle, “What are you doing here?” “Rarity said you needed help with your homework,” he said loudly so Twilight could hear, before whispering in an undertone, “Rarity wants to talk to Twilight alone. Please play along.” Sweetie Belle blinked, stuttering a second, but exclaimed in a raised voice, “Oh right, my homework. Sure, I’d love your help.” She led him into her room and closed the door. Spike had never seen Sweetie Belle’s room. It looked like Rarity’s bedroom but much messier. Crumples of paper poured from an overflowing trashcan, posters of famous singers and boy bands slapped on the walls, photographs with the CMC and Rarity covering her brown desk, and a white rabbit plush doll on top of her unmade bed. Spike took a moment to appreciate how Sweetie Belle was different from Rarity, not just in age but also in her unique personality. “Sorry, I haven’t had time to clean up,” she shrugged. Spike had a strange notion that she didn’t really care what others thought about her room. “So what’s going on?” Once again, Spike reiterated his story. Sweetie pulled up a chair in the middle of his story and told him to take a seat before motioning him to continue. When he finished, she was silent for a moment. “So you get to spend a whole month on vacation? That sounds fun.” “No, not fun.” Spike grumbled, “It’s terrible seeing Twilight stretch herself so thin.” “Oh, I guess I can understand how it feels watching your family working themselves crazy. Still, you’re lucky. I wish my sister would go out of her way to give me the best month of my life.” “It’s not that I don’t appreciate what she’s doing,” Spike admitted. He could not deny the past few days had been entertaining. If Twilight was in better shape, every day would have been fantastic. “It’s just if she keeps doing this, she won’t be getting any royal duties done.” “Well,” Sweetie Belle pursed her lips. She wanted to offer Spike helpful advice so she mulled over her words. A few seconds was enough time for her to reach the perfect solution. She said, “Maybe you should remind her about her job.” “I’ve already tried telling her to get back to work. She won’t listen.” Spike said, destroying Sweetie’s deeply contemplated solution in the second it was formed. Still, she was undaunted. The CMC never gave up, even when giving up would be rational. Her face lighted up with an idea. “Then, do something that’ll make her want to get back to work.” Spike furrowed his brow, “Like what?” “Whenever Rarity can’t concentrate on her work, she reads fashion magazines for inspiration” Said Sweetie, trembling with excitement, as she leaned closer to Spike. “I’m sure Twilight has something that inspires her.” “Oh boy,” Spike said, lifting a hand to his right temple. Twilight drew inspiration from many sources of academics. He could never comprehend most of them. Modular arithmetic, Yakistanian literature, modernism, all were topics beyond his comprehension. Inspiring Twilight could be difficult if he didn’t even understand her interests. Before he could ask Sweetie for help, clomping hooves echoed outside and a violet aura wrenched the door open. Twilight approached Spike with Rarity trailing behind her, blubbering an apology. “Spike, we’re leaving,” Twilight said with a voice that left no room for argument. She shoved past Rarity, who became indignant at the alicorn’s manner. “Really Twilight this is most impolite,” Rarity huffed as her cheeks flushed. “I’m only trying to look out for you. Spike is worried about you and so am I.” “And I appreciate your concern,” Twilight glared at Rarity through the corner of her eye, “but I don’t need your judgment. Besides, Spike and I have plans for today and I need to get back to the castle so I can get my schedule. If you don’t mind.” “Twilight,” Spike exclaimed with frustration, “Listen to yourself. You’re acting like a spoiled brat. This is Rarity, our friend. She’s only trying to help.” Twilight inhaled, “I know.” She bowed her head and flattened her ears. “I’m sorry, Rarity. But I want to spend time with Spike. I don’t expect you to understand but—.” “I would if you’d just tell me,” Rarity interrupted. Spike stretched out his palms in a plea. Twilight opened her mouth with a scowl, then closed her mouth, pursing her lips. Her narrowed eyes watered. She turned her face around and sniffed, trying to hold back her runny nose. Spike walked over and took her hoof between his clawed hands. When she refused to look at him, he placed a talon under her chin and guided her eyes to meet his. He whispered, “Twilight, we want to help you. Just talk to me. I’m your friend. You can tell me anything. I’ll always listen.” Tears rolled from Twilight’s face. She gazed into his emerald eyes, searching for the wondrous gleam he had as a newly hatched. Had that gleam been buried under a mountain of age and her own negligence? Was she beginning to lose him? Then, she wondered, most ominously, if he was ever hers at all. Rarity offered her a handkerchief and wiped away Twilight’s tears. Twilight smiled, grateful she had not lost her friend. She inhaled, her chest shaking with the breath. Spike kept holding her hoof, even as he wondered what was making her so upset. Soon, Twilight composed herself and turned to Rarity. “Thanks for everything. I’m sorry I treated you so poorly,” she said. “Please give me some time. I want to think about what you’ve said.” “Do take care of yourself,” Rarity placed a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “And if you ever want to talk, I’ll always be here.” The two left Carousel Boutique and headed for the castle in deafening silence. Spike turned to Twilight as they walked together. Rarity fixed her mane, straightening Twilight’s hair and trimming the snags. The bags under Twilight’s eyes faded, masked with makeup that blended into Twilight’s skin. A touch of lipstick and horn polish finished the transformation. With the gel keeping her mane in place, she almost looked like her old self, bangs and all. But the black lines around her crimson lined eyes where tears disrupted the makeup’s work indicated a mare far from healed. Spike swallowed a heavy sigh that descended painfully in his throat. He had to do something. He didn’t know how to help Twilight and worried that directly asking her would cause further tears. His heart couldn’t take another crying fit. She appeared composed to any other ponies, but after spending years alongside her Spike knew better. He recognized a fractured glass wall that the slightest disturbance could shatter. They reached the castle and Spike held the door open, rewarded by a wistful smile. Twilight walked into the hall, away from him. He really had to do something. He had to lift Twilight’s spirits and get her back into her role. Sweetie Belle’s advice echoed in his head. Spike’s frills perked with new vigor and he raced in front of Twilight. “Hey, I was sorting your books yesterday and couldn’t figure out where to put the books on modernism,” Spike said. “Do you think you could help me?” “Sorry, Spike.” She said, “I’m not up for sorting books right now.” “But,” Spike thought for a way to keep the conversation alive, “I think I might have messed up the system. I think I placed some postmodernist pieces in the middle of modernism because I couldn’t figure out the difference.” “Modernism is typically epistemological while postmodernism is more ontological,” Twilight explained as Spike led her to the library. “I mean there are other distinctions but scholars often argue modernism deals with knowledge, or the individual’s incapacity for complete knowledge, and postmodernism with determination and the nature of being.” Twilight raised her head as she spoke. “In most modernist works, the author presents readers with fragmented pieces of the world through a subjective perspective that they have to make sense of, while in postmodernism,” as Twilight’s voice faded into scholarly, inaudible rambles, Spike began to regret this decision. Despite his growing headache, he pushed Twilight into the library, and her voice stopped as she stared at her vast collection. Spike glanced at her, wondering if he really did misplace a book. Stars appeared in Twilight’s eyes as a gaping, childish smile spread across her face. She raced up the ladder Spike left on the center shelf and retrieved a book with a worn cover. As she flipped through the pages and her mind devoured the familiar course, Twilight plucked four more books from nearby shelves took a seat on the ground “Spike,” Twilight’s voice snapped him to attention. “Could you bring me my journal? I think it’s in my saddlebag.” Spike noticed his chore list and Twilight’s saddlebag on the table. Eager to help, he retrieved the green book and rushed to Twilight, who opened her journal near the center page. She levitated her journal beside the books and traced the words with her hoof. Without looking at Spike, she said, “Could you bring me a pen?” He grabbed her pen from the saddlebag. The moment he gave it to her, she began scribbling with blazing intensity. Spike could only stand by, wondering what she was up to, as the brilliant alicorn threw herself into her work. This whole scenario was familiar, blissfully familiar. All day, this continued. Twilight glancing from book to book and then back to her journal while Spike brought her brain food, water, and other tools. When the light outside began to dim, Twilight dropped her pen to the floor. Her eyes, fixed on what she wrote, paid no heed to her surroundings. “I’ve done it,” Twilight gasped. She grabbed Spike’s shoulders and spun him around, “I’ve done it!” “You did it!” Spike grinned. His brow tightened and he cocked his head, “What did you do?” “I solved an ancient mystery,” Twilight said, as though Spike knew what this meant. “Several millennia ago, ancient ponies built the unnamed ruins near what is today Rumbling Rock Ridge, founded by this stallion.” she pointed to a drawing in her journal of a unicorn with a horn that had rays of light extending from a star at the tip of his horn, rearing up on his legs. “I didn’t know who he was at first because I couldn’t recognize the runes on the stone wall. I thought they were some lost language but now I recognize them.” “Okay,” Spike said, ecstatic to see Twilight excited. “How are you sure?” “Thanks to Princess Ember’s books on dragon culture. But I’m getting ahead of myself.” Twilight said. She glanced around, “Where’s my chalkboard? I need visuals.” Spike raced out the doors and returned a few minutes later rolling the board to her. Twilight grabbed the chalk and motioned Spike to sit in the chair, “With Princess Ember’s books, I could decipher the language of these ponies. I copied this drawing from the ruins,” she pointed to the unicorn in her book, “but had no idea what it meant. I translated it to ‘Arc Hoof: Chief of Light’ by combining ancient dragon and ancient pony languages and creating a new dialect.” As Twilight wrote on the board in white chalk, Spike asked, “Why would there be ancient dragon runes at a pony ruin?” Twilight snatched onto his question, “That’s an excellent question, Spike. It all has to do with Arc Hoof and Equestria at the time. Back then, ponies were nomads, traveling wherever they could find food. Arc Hoof must have been a chief of such a tribe at this time, and Equestria was very inhospitable. Without an alicorn like Princess Celestia to raise the sun or Luna to raise the moon on a consistent basis, every creature had to struggle to survive in an unpredictable climate. The few times the sun peaked over the horizon might last a day or a few hours. The only constant at this time was the full moon.” As Twilight kept writing her system of translation in perplexing detail, Spike scratched his head, “If Princess Celestia and Luna weren’t around, who raised the sun and moon?” “I’d hypothesize that the sun and moon can rise on their own, but it takes them considerable effort without magical powers.” Twilight said, “In any case, with the sun and moon in chaos, eventually they must have crossed and created a solar eclipse. I’d imagine every pony was scared, seeing the sun squashed under the moon. To them, it could have meant the moon was more powerful than the sun. To Chief Arc Hoof, this meant the moon controlled all light. By studying the full moon, he learned to harness magical energy latent within all unicorns. He performed the first spell in all of Equestria, an illumination spell. He is the ancestor of all unicorn magic as we know it.” So far Spike followed and Twilight seemed reenergized. He said, “If this Arc Hoof performed the first spell, how come we’ve never heard of him before?” “This is only a hypothesis, but centuries of disregard could have made ponies take this for granted. Sooner or later, hundreds of ponies would start claiming their ancestor performed the spell, making it difficult to pinpoint its exact origins. Plus, I doubt many ponies could read dragon runes and understand this language.” Twilight drew a crude map of the area near Rambling Rocks. She circled the mountain beside what would be Canterlot and turned to Spike, “Can you guess what this is?” “Well, I think it’s the mountain next to Canterlot, but it looks more like a bunny with one ear.” Twilight rolled her eyes with a wry smile, which Spike took as permission to chuckle. “Yes, it is the mountain next to Canterlot. Do you know why Princess Celestia built the capital of her empire here?” Spike shrugged, “To be in the center of Equestria?” “Alright maybe, but also because this mountain houses the most abundant vein of gemstones ever discovered, which fund a great deal of Canterlot academic research and support the crown. After ponies discovered the nearly endless supply of gems nested around and inside the mountains some millennia ago, ponies hid its location from all dragons and vied for total control of the mountains. Can you guess how this relates to Arc Hoof?” Spike rubbed his chin and puzzled the question a moment, “Are you saying he found the gems inside?” “Exactly,” Twilight beamed, “using his illumination spell he could make his way into the mountains and find the deposit.” “How does all this connect back to dragons?” “I’m glad you asked,” she said. “At this time, dragons were the dominant species of Equestria. Their tough bodies and immense strength made them suited for the harsh world. Their biggest fears came from other dragons. Motivated by their greed, they constantly fought each other for gemstones in battles that could ravage the land. This is when Arc Hoof came to the Dragon Lord of this time, Smoke, to negotiate. In exchange for a regular supply of gemstones that would alleviate dragon conflicts, Smoke swore no dragon would ever hurt a pony and pledged his protection to Arc Hoof’s tribe. Working together, dragons and ponies created the unnamed ruins where for the first time in Equestrian history, dragons lived side by side with ponies.” Spike was sure his jaw dropped. With the subject turning to his fellow dragons, Spike found himself invested in Twilight’s lecture. When she said dragons and ponies lived side by side in the ancient ruins, she had his full attention. “That’s why there are pony and dragon runes at this place?” “And it’s why much of their art displays dragons and ponies, even combining the two into bat ponies,” Twilight said. “So what happened next?” Spike asked. “Well, to cut a long story short,” Twilight continued, and Spike almost replied “too late” before biting his tongue. “When Arc Hoof and Smoke both passed away, both races grieved for months. The new chief and dragon lord agreed to place the most precious jewel of their civilization in the center of the new capital beneath the light of the moon. Three dragons and three ponies would guard the jewel every day and rotate every month under the full moon. Under the moon’s light, ponies believed that the jewel shined like ‘Arc Hoof’s first illumination spell dancing with Smoke’s proud flames.’ This jewel must have been the Eye of the Moon.” “What then?” “I’m not really sure,” Twilight said, “but I have a theory backed by solid evidence. Records show that centuries later, something terrible happened to all of Equestria.” She flipped over the board and began a list, “It could have been a plague wiping out dragons and ponies, the races vying for superiority, ponies becoming independent as they perfected new spells, dragons demanding more gems for their services, unpredictable weather changes, or new threats to Equestria. Whatever the case, tensions were high between the races. Then, there must have been a blood moon. I translated a record that said, ‘Arc Hoof and Smoke show their displeasure, that we their grandchildren squander everything they sought to achieve.’ Eventually, the races parted and the civilization disbanded.” Spike sat mesmerized by this epic saga. He asked, “What happened to the jewel?” “I think it’s still in the ruins,” Twilight said. “I think most ponies would notice a gemstone in the middle of the ruins,” Spike said. “Let me explain,” Twilight said. “From what I can tell, Queen Night Shine and Dragon Lord Fang agreed to hide the jewel. They would return it to its rightful place when their kinds could live together again. According to the panel,” she pointed to the drawing of the mare and her guards in her journal. “Only a pony who knew the secret of the ruins could solve the puzzle, but only a dragon could open the door. I’m not sure what the door is, but I imagine it’s revealed when some pony solves the puzzle. To reunite the races, they would have to work together.” “Why didn’t they?” “I don’t know,” Twilight confessed. “I would guess that the only ponies and dragons who knew were wiped out by the plague or it was simply forgotten. Soon, no pony alive could read the ancient dragon runes and no dragon could read the ancient pony runes. It became a legend, a fairy tale. But the Eye of the Moon might be real.” “Twilight,” Spike smiled, “even sleep deprived and physically exhausted, you are the most brilliant pony in Equestria.” “Thanks,” Twilight said. “Well, that was fun.” He and Twilight had different definitions of fun, but even he had to admit this lecture was fascinating. “So are we going to look for that jewel?” Spike asked. Twilight’s eager, wide eyes and broad smile that said yes, but her enthusiasm melted when she looked at Spike’s eyes. She turned a brief glance to her journal then to the chalkboard. Her face contorted with a sudden look of horror. She dropped the books onto the floor and shuffled away. “Oh no, not again,” Twilight muttered as she tore her eyes from her work. Spike grabbed her right hoof, worried that Twilight was on the verge of a panic attack. Cadence had taught them how to calm themselves through deep breathing on a steady interval, but Twilight might not be able to focus. He inhaled through his nostrils, held for three seconds, and exhaled through his mouth. He repeated his breathing until Twilight picked up his movement and steadied herself. “You alright?” Spike stared at her. Twilight smiled at him, and hugged Spike with her free hoof. “Yes,” she said, “I just realized that I almost became my old self again, before we came to Ponyville.” Spike backed away unconsciously, his throat tightened. “What are you talking about?” “Before I came to Ponyville, all I ever thought about was learning and magic,” Twilight explained. “I never thought of any pony but myself. I was so wrapped up in my studies I never made any friends. I got so wrapped up in all this, I almost became someone I don’t want to be.” Spike picked up her journal and flipped to the page with a drawing of a crystal. He pointed to it, “Don’t you want to find this? The Eye of the Moon could prove all of your theories. Your translations will change the field of archaeology forever. How can you hear this and not be excited?” “Don’t you get it, Spike?” Twilight magically snatched her journal from Spike’s claws. “There will always be ancient artifacts and ruins. There will always be things to discover. But there will only be one you. None of this garbage matters compared to my friends,” she chucked the book across the floor. Spike gaped at the stranger standing in front of him. Twilight never treated her books with such carelessness. He balled his fists, “Twilight, this isn’t you. What’s going on?” Twilight left the library. Either she did not hear Spike or she did not care. He was so close. He almost reached her. Spike turned his head to the ceiling and shouted, wishing he had something to throw. He picked up a book Twilight had left on the floor and slammed it onto the table. He railed against Twilight’s stubbornness and against his powerlessness. When he could no longer shout, he sunk his gloomy eyed face onto the table. His forehead ached. He shifted to the right side of his head, so he could breathe. His eyes rested on the chalkboard. Then, his eyes turned to the journal she had thrown to the floor, left open with its spine to the air. He trudged over and picked it up, hooking his claws inside. He flipped the journal over to see what page it fell on. How perfect, he thought when he saw the slapdash drawing of the crystal surrounded by notes. His plan was not a complete failure. Twilight was back to her studies, if only for a short while. Her discovery, inspired by some aspect of their conversation, invigorated the mare with newfound enthusiasm. Spike narrowed his eyes, a thought beginning to form in his mind. Twilight needed a reason to return to her work, something that would inspire her. Right now, he was looking at the perfect inspiration. He pursed his lips. This was insane. He couldn’t solve a puzzle that baffled scholars for centuries. Spike turned a few page and found the solution, provided by Twilight. She said a dragon had to open the door which would appear once someone solved the puzzle. This was still insane. He couldn’t exactly waltz in and move around these tiles without several ponies spotting him. If he was stealthy maybe, then he scratched that thought. Stealth would be difficult in the midst of moving several stone tiles. What if he showed them some proof he was qualified to do so? He turned to the saddlebag Twilight left at the table and emptied its contents. Spike found the royal seal without difficulty. What was he thinking? He had no idea what he was doing. For all he knew, he might just make finding the Eye of the Moon impossible for any other pony or he could end up injuring himself. Twilight would never let him slip out anyways. She would know the instant he disappeared. Spike remembered Twilight and gritted his fangs. She needed this. If he didn’t drag her out of this state, she would never return to he royal duties. Equestria needed her. Placing the journal on the table, Spike folded his arms across his chest as he planned how to leave without Twilight stopping him. After devising a plan, he went upstairs to Twilight’s room. She was leaning over her desk staring at a piece of paper with a quill resting in an inkpot when Spike entered her room. “Oh hey,” she turned to him. “I was just putting together our schedule for the rest of the week. Tell me, would you like to go to Manehatten this Wednesday or next Thursday?” “I don’t really have a preference,” Spike said. “But I really think you should get some sleep. I mean how are we going to do anything if you’re barely awake?” “I don’t need any,” Twilight yawned, “sleep.” Spike pressed his hands together and made his best puppy dogface, “Please, Twilight. Do it for me, so I don’t have to worry about you?” Twilight sighed. She couldn’t say no to that face. She lumbered to her bed. One look at her pillow and she collapsed on top of her blankets. Spike slid a pillow under her head and whispered good night. Her lips curled into a dim smile. He tiptoed away and turned off the lights before closing the door. Returning downstairs, he found a parchment and quill, wrote a note for Twilight, and placed it in his room on his bed. He didn’t want her to wake up and turn over all of Equestria looking for him. After collecting bits for the train, Twilight’s journal and royal seal, and locating a flashlight, he headed for the train station. With the sun beginning to set, most ponies were at home. The few still walking around Ponyville had late jobs or dates planned. He noticed Bonbon and Lyra sitting on a park bench under a tree. Spike took a long route around them, partly so they wouldn’t see him and partly so he wouldn’t interrupt their discussion. The sun had yet to fall past the horizon, but Spike knew there would be a full moon tonight. He wasn’t sure if Princess Luna could see him from the moon, but the possibility made him uncomfortable. A voice calling his name interrupted his thoughts. Spike twisted around to see a grey pegasus, with crumbs on her cheeks, waving from a café table. He returned the gesture, noticing the half-eaten brown muffin in font of her, before hanging his head and walking to the train station. When he showed the ticket vendor the royal seal and paid his bits, he had little trouble getting onto the six o’clock train to Galloping Gorge. He located an empty booth and took a seat on the tattered, garnet-colored cushioned bench. As he waited for the train to depart, he opened Twilight’s journal and studied the puzzle. It seemed simple to him. He just had to rearrange the tiles and prove he was a dragon to open the door. So long as he didn’t have to fly, he could open the door. If Twilight was right, then he would find the Eye of the Moon. The train lurched and pulled out of the station. Spike narrowed his eyes, determined to help Twilight. He flipped through the pages. Most of Twilight’s notes were gibberish to him, but he studied every word, aware the solution to open the door could lie before him. He came to the pages Twilight wrote a few hours ago, filled with an alphabetical translation of ancient symbols. One page listed the translation for ancient pony symbols, the next dragon symbols, and the third page detailed Twilight’s translation system utilizing both systems. He had twenty minutes, might as well study up. Twilight was counting on him.