“Tell me again what you hope to gain from this?”
Twilight sighed. The past three weeks had been busy, more so than nearly any she had ever had in her relatively short life. Didn’t really help that the progress they had made was largely irrelevant.
The Everfree was still regrowing. The Everfree was still growing darker. Worse of all, the Everfree was still forcing an even bigger dead-zone around its extent.
“Testing one of my theories about your Convexity, something you seem oddly keen to avoid.” Twilight couldn’t keep the slight bite from her voice. Though she hadn't meant to, the Alicorn mare could feel the stress eating at her nerves.
Spyro shifted uncomfortably, the purple dragon squirming on the flat piece of metal he was sat on. The wires attached to his scales pulled slightly on the various instruments dotted around the spacious basement.
“Convexity isn’t a toy, Twilight.” The purple dragon averted his eyes, hiding the slightly shameful glint sparkling inside those violet irises. Twilight dropped her scowl, an element of understanding entering her eyes.
“Listen Spyro, I know you hate what Convexity is capable of, but we need to understand how it affects...it.” The mare chose her words carefully, making sure to not awaken that spark of hatred that now rested inside the dragon’s heart.
The death of a loved one didn’t exactly do wonders for the murderer’s reputation.
“It destroys it. What else do we need to know?”
Twilight smirked, expecting something along those lines. She had a trump card this time however, something to defeat the question that had plagued the mare in her search for an experimental demonstration.
“Dash pointed something out about her first encounter with you-”
“Of course she did.” Spyro narrowed his eyes, deadpanning at the Alicorn strutting around in front of his semi restrained form. Twilight pouted slightly.
“...as I was saying, Dash told me that when you destroyed the forest the first time around, Convexity warped the air around you and her, distorting it.”
“Yeah, so? It always does that, keep in mind what I explained to you weeks ago. Convexity doesn’t originate here naturally. It’s far from a normal place.”
The mare clicked her tongue at him, the pony version of a snap, it seemed. Turning hard, she gave him an exaggerated smile. Spyro scooted back, knowing what was coming next.
“Exactly! Convexity shares that quality with our enemy, except that this distortion had shown to mess with it’s structure. From what you told me, Convexity destroys everything rather explosively.”
She stepped away from him, hooves clacking as she jumped off the metal platform. Spyro continued to watch her with his muzzle scrunched, an uneasy expression plastered on the dragon’s face.
“That gives the indication that Convexity is less of a separate element than those you naturally possess. Instead, it is an anti-element, an energetic phenomenon that destroys both, but with an extremely powerful magical discharge-”
“Twilight.” Spyro stated, brows knit. She took a deep breath, sighing in annoyance.
“They blow up if they touch.”
“Oh. Well I already knew that. There is a reason that I don’t use it unless it’s an emergency...or if I…” He trailed off, wincing in remembrance. “I still don’t see how the two are related.” The dragon’s face contorted into a frown, mind whirling a mile a minute.
“Well, I’m not trying to bore you with the complex details, but I’ll keep it simple.” The Alicorn straightened up, muzzle scrunching slightly and eyes glinting in excitement.
Spyro rolled his eyes, laying his head down on his paws. Blinking blearily, the dragon attempted to not doze off as Twilight began her ramble.
“Magical theory dictates that two opposing forms of magic, specifically in this case earthen elements and anti-elements collide, they destroy each other in a process called magical annihilation. You following so far?” She raised an eyebrow, a questioning line drawn across her muzzle.
“Yeah.” Spyro gave a quick yawn, not lifting his head as her stared up at the smaller Alicorn. “You mentioned anti-elements. If Convexity isn’t something that doesn’t exist in your dimension, than what was your equivalent?”
Twilight was happy he asked, loving that someone was paying attention to her lectures for once.
“Only one creature that exist here has shown an anti magic, but these explosive collisions are much more uncommon as the two magic types don’t share a similar application like yours do.”
He shot her a questioning look. “I’m not quite sure I get what you mean…”
“You project elements with a defined physical structure, such as flames or shards of ice. Given that the magic of your dimension seems to permeate within your world, or at least that’s what the tests show, Convexity would react violently with nearly everything.”
Spyro nodded once, making a quiet note of acknowledgement.
“That magical energy that we ponies possess is very different. It is just a force that strengthens us in very specific ways.” The Alicorn mare paused for a moment, raising a hoof to her chin in consideration. “Well, I guess Unicorns and Alicorns are less specific, our horns giving us more of a field projection.”
“Which is unbelievably unnatural might I add.” Spyro mumbled with a disturbed expression, scales tensed. Twilight narrowed her eyes, drawing back in slight indignation.
“Coming from the one who spits lightning from his face.”
“That’s different.”
“Really? That’s different than force projection fields!?" The mare nearly shouted, flustered. Spyro didn’t move, still keeping the same skeptical line on his muzzle. “Telekinesis is perfectly reasonable, relax.”
The purple dragon relaxed about two scales, but didn’t further protest. Shaking her head at the rather stubborn antics of the castle’s resident inter dimensional traveler, she continued her explanation.
“The anti-magic we have is something called Chaos Energy. It is about as uncommon as Convexity compatible beings and it’s very fortunate for that too. Chaos is less destructive and more….altering than anything else. Changing ponies and their personalities. While explosive annihilation is much less common, it happens when the magics collide in their purest forms.”
Spyro perked up a bit, an odd look that twilight was unable to read entering his eyes. It sent shivers down the Alicorn’s spine though. Something about it spoke of something she was not privy to, and maybe for good reason.
“Corruption…” He mumbled, venom coloring the dragon’s usually gentle voice. Twilight took a step back, knowing the sudden brooding that climbed into Spyro’s violet eyes.
Sensing what the dragon was battling under a set of lavender scales, the mare dropped her lecture momentarily, trotting up to him slowly. He didn’t even notice her coming, eyes far away, scales tensed and claws clenched.
Sighing, the mare flopped down next to her larger friend. She folded a velvety wing over the brooding dragon. This broke the dragon from his stupor.
He gave her a glance, one filled with unease and insecurity. After a moment's hesitation, the dragon drooped his head, gritting fangs tightly in frustration and uncertainty. Grumbling miserably, Spyro refused to budge, staring into the far wall with a mixed expression.
“It’s never going to go away.” It was less of a question and more of a resigned statement. Twilight was used to this by now, as much as she would have rather avoided seeing her draconic friend in pain.
“It’s not really supposed to. When that person you love is gone, all you have left is your memories.” The mare gently tried to to console him, but the dragon wasn’t having any of it. He shrugged her off hard, turning to the side and keeping his poker face ever solid. The empathetic mare could still see the lines of stress running along his face and the tears ever present within those violet irises.
“I keep dreaming of her. Of Cynder.” The dragon clenched his eyes shut hard, hiding tear-brimmed orbs behind a curtain of lavender scales. “I miss her so much…” Spyro whimpered, digging his claws into the metal plate.
Twilight’s heart tugged for her agonized companion, knowing just how much the loss of his mate had plagued him. This was far from the first time the usually calm, jolly dragon had fallen into this rut and she assumed it wouldn’t be the last.
“I’m worried one day….that one day I won’t want to dream about her. I’m scared that I’ll become so hurt by seeing her….that I’ll want her to leave me forever.” His throat heaved, a strangled cough leaving the haggard dragon. Rubbing a paw against his closed eyes strongly, Spyro sniffled once, letting out a shuddering breath.
The mare’s heart constricted, hating seeing the dragon in emotional turmoil, wrapped her wing tighter around the male, careful to not break the wires off his scales. He hardly noticed the attempt at comfort, mind focused on increasingly distressed territory.
She was worried he was going to go downhill rapidly, opening up that floodgate of rage felt that fateful day those weeks ago. After a moment of tense silence, Spyro let out an exhausted sigh, opening his eyes and flopping his skull in between scarred paws.
“I know it’s hard Spyro. You don’t have to forget her, I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” Twilight spoke gently, consolingly. She felt like he was listening this time, the slightest of twitches in his torn wings. “It may not go away, but it will get better eventually.”
“How am I supposed to recover from having her murdered in front of me? What could I ever do to fix that?” He asked angrily, lifting his head quickly from the floor and glaring at her with tear filled orbs of violet. His jaw was pulled taut, a noticeable tremble running through his body as the dragon struggled to keep himself together.
“Maybe you’re not supposed to fix it. It hurts because you love her. It’s always going to hurt, but that pain will dull.” The dragon stared at her for a few moments, tears leaking down his face. The lines it drew across his scales made him look older, more weary.
On a whim, she added a line that she hoped would get him to feel a little better.
“You’re not alone.” His tear soaked eyes widened and Twilight felt her gut twist at the horrified look that entered them in full force.
An awful noise spilled out of his throat and he quickly avoided his gaze, drawing the purple curtains closed forcefully. He shoved her away rather forcefully, quickly getting to his feet. Growling lowly, the purple dragon turned away from his equine companion, pulling on the many wires still attached across his body.
The mare, stunned, didn’t know what she had did wrong. Spyro kept his back to her, only the subtle shaking in his scarred limbs alerting her to the fact that something was off with her usually calm draconic friend. Lifting a hoof uncertainly took more effort than she cared to admit. She knew well enough that despair could cause those afflicted by it to lash out, she didn’t quite fancy being accidentally cut to ribbons by his claws.
Spyro flinched the moment her hoof made contact with his shoulder. Sighing, the dragon drooped down, tension leaving his body once he flopped back onto his haunches. Twilight cast him a small, sad smile. She couldn’t claim to understand what his sorrow felt like, however it didn’t take a genius to know that he was upset with himself for the display of weakness, something she herself could sympathize with.
“This sucks.” He said simply, frowning and wiping his eyes. There was defeat in his lilac irises, a resigned appearance about them.
“I want to help you, Spyro. I really do.” The mare tried to console, but was unsure how to.
“You can’t. Let’s just get on with this test and forget about her for now.” He turned back to her, giving her a glance from the corner of his eyes. She knew that look, one that told her she shouldn’t push right now.
“Alright, I understand. Well, just hang there for a moment, let me prepare that last few things.” He nodded, sitting back on his rump and fiddling with his claws.
Giving the weary dragon one last sad glance that he didn’t see, Twilight walked back across the room, over to a large machine with several gauges on it. Adjusting a knob on the side, the Alicorn flipped a switch next to a set of gauges, adjusting the machine’s preference to unnatural forms of magic.
It’s purpose was to pick up on the exact magical layout running through the purple dragon’s body once convexity powered through him. She had a few guesses about what would occur, but she was basing on of what he had told her and what Rainbow had recounted. In reality she really did not have much to work with.
Twilight gave him another glance, watching as he let a current of electricity run between his claws, the dragon himself just gazing lazily at the zigzagging flow of sparks. The machine next to her made no indication of the magical energy flowing through him.
Good. That meant it was properly attuned. Or at least that’s what she was hoping.
Pressing a button near the bottom of the large metal box, the mare moved to another part of the room, off to the side. It was smaller than the previous piece of machinery. This one was connected to the set of wires attached to the bored dragon sitting on the metal pallet.
Expertly recalculating the aspects of the machine’s sensors, Twilight adjusted several knobs, tapping the gauges a few times, the needles wobbling once before going back to the still position there were in before.
Nodding to herself, satisfied, Twilight returned to the larger box. Flipping a crack on the back, the machines both made a light pinging noise, a light on the tops of each box glowing a dim green.
This caught the attention of Spyro, the easily amused dragon let the current dissolve from between his claws. Tapping the gauges once more, Twilight appeared satisfied with the state of her old gadgets, tapping the final button on the side of the large box. Moving up to the front, the Alicorn gave Spyro a grin, one that couldn’t hide her excitement.
He gave her a blank stare.
“Come on Spyro, lighten up won’t ya.” She pouted at him. The dragon raised a scaly brow, chuckling with a shake of his head. Standing back up, Spyro stretched his limbs and wings like a cat, wincing at the soreness lingering in his muscles from the prior weeks.
“Alright, alright. I’ll bite, what is it you need me to do?” The mare smirked. That’s a bit more like it.
“Yes, well, all you need to do is channel Convexity. Just act as if you were going to use it normally.” She explained the best she could. Trying to tell someone how to do something that innate was like trying to explain what the color red is. Thankfully, it seemed he understood.
“So, use it, without using it. Got it.” He smirked and deadpanned. All Twilight could do was glare at him.
“I’m gonna smack that smirk off your stupid face you overgrown reptile.” The mare grumbled while moving over and picking up a pen and several sheets of parchment. Spyro gave a heartfelt laugh at her response.
Sitting down in front of the now calm-faced dragon, Twilight prepared her barriers, knowing well that this magic could cause more havoc than she wanted to take.
“Okay, ready whenever you are.” She nodded at him. The dragon didn’t say anything, just staring into her eyes for a moment. His gaze was stern, unbreaking, and for a moment Twilight hesitated. Her own will to learn and experiment overcame her fear and she stared back into his lilac irises just as strongly.
A momentary standoff occurred, with dragon and pony fighting a mental battle of strength. It took a moment of concentration, but Spyro broke first. Sighing and breaking his gaze, the dragon straightened up. Looking down at his equine companion, Spyro gave an almost imperceptible nod.
The dragon kept his gaze locked onto hers, his lilac irises gaining a dim glow for a few seconds. Twilight nearly found herself hypnotized in that deep glow. Said glow mounted in strength and energy, the air vibrating in Twilight’s ears.
Her fur was standing on end. Something was very off putting about the scent in the air. Metallic and bitter, it left a terrible taste on the mare’s tongue. There was a very unusual quality about his appearance now, particularly that of his main body scales.
They were glowing. It was very slight, but there was a rising lilac mist emanating from his scales, steaming from horn to tail-tip. It lacked the malevolent aura of Discord, it’s mere presence commanding a respect only rivaled by Celestia.
Twilight suddenly had a much deeper appreciation of just how dangerous her draconic friend could be. A simple whiff of this much potency was extraordinary, the raw power behind it was otherworldly and unnerving.
She could feel the essence flowing off the dragon like a scent in the breeze, the heavy magical aura resonating in the Alicorn’s skull with frightening intensity. Although it was unbeknownst to her, the machines behind her drunken form began to scream their results into the air.
If she had been in a proper state to pay attention, then she may have noticed that the dragon broke off her gaze to stare at the screeching metallic monster in the back of the room, spooked. It only lasted a few seconds in actuality, however it slowed her mind, giving the hyperactivity inside that skull ample time to process what she was feeling.
Magic of this intensity was more often than not a breeding ground for trouble, though it didn’t have the chaotic hell that Discord possessed. There was a constrained show of force within the aura. Spyro’s Convexity sent a message of a rabid animal on a metal leash.
It lacked the malevolent energy of Tirek. There wasn’t a purpose to destroy and conquer in greed. There was no intention of unrestrained death to all who opposed it. It was heavenly in the purpose of liberation, of gentle comfort and reconstruction, though the attuned mare could feel a more angry ability beneath its surface, though one heavily pushed beneath.
There was no hiding like changeling magic. Chrysalis’s energy was distinct to Twilight in that it called out to those that paid attention, it virtually screamed deception. There was something inside Twilight that knew it the second she felt it. It wasn’t just that Cadance wasn’t acting right. She didn’t feel right. And despite the undertone below that angelic lilac pulse, the anger didn’t feel deceptive.
It was very much different than the chaotic energies that those three other unique beings had possessed. This heightening pulse of magic was seraphic and celestial on a level rivaling that of Equestria’s leaders themselves. In a way, Twilight wanted the feeling to never end, for it was ecstasy.
Like a snap of fingers, the light cut off, the pulses stopped. For a moment the mare was stunned, overcome with an urge to beg for it to be turned back on. It had to come back, she couldn’t live without it! Twilight nearly collapsed, knees suddenly quaking.
Inner strength and intuition beat back the odd emotions with the force of a sledgehammer. She kicked it back strongly with a grimace. Twilight could certainly feel that pull, a pull that may have turned another pony delirious had they been exposed to Convexity in the intimate way she just had. Spyro’s voice broke the disorientated mare from her trance.
“There was a reason I was hesitant to use that. Outside of combative uses it can get a little….intense.” He frowned, watching her struggle with a disgruntled expression. It spoke of mild concern, that and a hint of indignation.
Shaking her head roughly didn’t do much to quell the disturbing sensations still bouncing around her nerves, but it did help her form words in a more reasonably clear manner.
“You weren’t lying, that’s for sure.” Twilight slurred slightly, stammering the words unclearly. Sitting back, the mare groaned and brought a hoof to her aching skull. Pressing her fetlock to the center of her skull, she cast a spell quickly, forking over her rather ineffective barriers.
Head starting to spin considerably less, Twilight got up from her seated position, trotting sluggishly over to the far back metal construction. Slapping her hoof against a lever on the side, she ripped a sheet of paper out of the socket it quickly dropped from.
Something strange happened this time, an effect the bleary Alicorn had failed to notice when relieving the migraine. It was rather hard to miss, its presence making known when her horn lit up.
The force at which she applied the telekinesis was much stronger than she had intended it to be. Pausing, she stared down at the paper, mouth a tight line, brows knit in concentration. Quickly adjusting her hold on the paper, the Alicorn caught herself almost ripping the page apart, a narrow crack in the top of the thick parchment the only indication that something was amiss.
Spyro caught her slightly alarmed gaze, noticing the crease in her forehead. Her amethyst eyes were glowing with a glint of concentrated bafflement. Something had just creeped her out, something she was currently running calculations in her mind at speeds that would make most heads spin.
The dragon was often more perceptive than he let on, however, and he knew something was up. She didn’t respond to the first call of her name, instead firmly staring at whatever was on that sheet. Now he was worried.
It wasn’t unusual for the mare to zone out, lost in her own world, that the male knew. That wasn’t the issue, the issue lied in her body language. Locked jaw, tightly clenched muscles, fur standing on end, and a persistent look of unease locked in her eyes.
“What is it Twilight?” He questioned firmly.
No response, not even a glance from the page.
“Hey!” He barked, concerned.
This time he got a reaction, the mare looking up from the page with a start. She looked way to unnerved, it was creeping him out too. It was fairly evident that her magic and the way this world worked was still foreign to him.
Needless to say he didn’t like being left in the dark, especially not anymore. Spyro knew what the stakes were, in fact according to the stunned mare in front of him it was really the only reason they were messing around with Convexity in the first place.
“It’s nothing, just a bit zoned still.” She lied weakly. Spyro shook his head firmly, eyes never straying from hers as he clucked his tongue.
“Ah ah ah, don’t gimmie that shit. I know that look.” Twilight gulped, knowing that this wasn’t going to slip by him any easier than it would her if the roles were swapped. Sighing, she plodded over to him. The hypothesis was rough, but she already had it formed in her head.
Leaning back against the wall to his left, she ignored the nearly paranoid was about which he was holding himself. Glancing down at the torn document, Twilight, laid it down carefully beside her. Once more, she eyed him warily.
“What did you do different this time?” He appeared momentarily bushwhacked by the question, eyes widening. Quickly his gaze became guarded.
“What do you mean.” His tone was slightly defensive, eyes never breaking contact with hers.
“You can’t hide this! I know for a fact that you did something different this time.” She pointed a hoof at him, snout scrunching. The dragon narrowed his hard eyes at her, jaws shut. “Look, I know this is an uncomfortable area for you, but that wasn’t like how you described Convexity to me.”
He didn’t say anything for a second, gaze just as hard. It took a few seconds, but if by chance, the collected look in his ally’s eyes broke his gruff exterior. Frowning with a soft gaze, he shuffled shamefully.
“I can’t show you what you want to see Twilight.” He broke his gaze, staring at his paws in humiliation. She didn’t respond, waiting for him to continue, a patient smile on her face. At least she was getting through to him. “There wasn’t anything to show you.”
“What do you mean? What you just did-” She lifted his chin up with a hoof, giving him a firm stare. “-Wasn’t nothing!” She tried to reassure him, but he wasn’t having it. Spyro shook his head resoundingly, eyes clenched.
“That’s not what I meant! It’s just that-” He cut himself off suddenly, bringing a paw to his mouth with a hard grimace. Letting out a tight breath, the dragon’s voice came out much more smoothly. “There is nothing, and I mean nothing to show of Convexity other than destruction and death.” Spyro was stone faced, the words coming out with the lightest of trembles.
The Alicorn wasn’t quite sure what to say, the conviction in his voice was set. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. When she didn’t respond, he hung his head shamefully, averting his eyes to the side.
“That’s not true….” She herself was unsure, thinking back to the Everfree the night she had returned. It was easy to believe that all this power could do was destroy, but there was a part of her that fully believed in her draconic charge, one that had witnessed something truly special naught a minute ago. “If it was, then what do you call what you just showed me?”
“That wasn’t a real applicable use of it, was pretty much just me letting the energy flow....” He didn’t adjust his head, still rather downtrodden. “Convexity manifests as destruction, with virtually no exceptions.”
“That may not be true.” Twilight spoke cryptically, averting her eyes. Spyro found his attention turned towards her, curiosity lifting his mood a slight bit.
“Oh yeah? Do tell.” Spyro, stony, mumbled. Looking through his brows up at the mare, he kept his mouth a straight line.
“You caught onto it earlier, I doubt you’ve forgotten it.” He kept his eyes half-lidded, looking at her, expressionless.
“You’d be right.”
“Well, whatever you did there made me act….strange.” He raised a brow. “Whatever that was, it was damn near euphoric for me and made my magic act up.” Spyro kept one of his scaly brows raised.
“Acting up? You’re witchcraft looked to be working fine from here.” Ignoring his blatant poke at Equestrian magic, Twilight continued.
“It didn’t stop working, honestly I’m not quite sure what happened. I think it upped the sensitivity quite a bit.”
“Why exactly is that relevant?” He was clueless, but that was to be expected. Twilight had a way in mind that it would be useful, but needed the best way to explain it to him.
“Think about it this way: imagine that your elements suddenly became much more complex when around my magic. What if your ability to morph it and shape it in different ways rapidly became much easier to to do, much quicker?” His eyes widened, jaw gaping slightly at the implications. Twilight smirked. “Now you see it, that’s why Convexity may be critically important here for the future.”
Spyro’s eyes darted around for a moment. Raising a paw to his chin, the dragon looked conflicted. In his own mind, he disliked the idea of needing to become a battery of Convexity for the magic that these ponies used. It’s ties to Malefor already made him wary enough, and he wasn’t sure he like the idea.
On the other claw, if he could help increase the quality of life for the people of the nation that was sheltering him….well there was no debate on that. He wanted to help, it was in his blood, it was just that he didn’t fully trust the maverick element to bend the way they needed it too.
“Are you sure that’s how it works?” He still felt skeptical, very much so in fact.
“I’m not positive and I’ll still going to review whatever relevant data from the sheets-” She spoke while ripping off the pads still stuck to his scales, folding them carefully back into the machines on either side of him. “-but I’m fairly confident that that’s what it did.”
“Hmm…” He looked a bit lost in thought, mauve orbs glazing over.
“Would you mind running another test or two?” The question broke him from his reverie, eyes darting to meet her own. Catching the hesitant startle in his body, she quickly amended. “Not now of course, I’ll cut you loose in a moment.”
Still appearing rather hesitant, he thought for a moment, body going rigid and still. After a moment of thought, Spyro seemed to make up his mind. Sucking a tooth, Spyro gave her a light slap on the shoulder.
“Why not, I guess it couldn’t hurt.” The drake had a small smirk plastered on his muzzle. Grinning excitedly, Twilight hurriedly collected the second sheet from the machine on the far back, this time her magic returning to normal upon usage.
Trotting back up to her draconic companion with the papers tucked away at her side under a feathered wing, the mare gave him a genuine smile.
“I know you really didn’t want to do this, but I just want you to know how thankful I am that you came along.” He mumbled modestly, rubbing at one arm with the other. “All of this will end up well, I promise.”
Spyro didn’t say a word. The male kept his eyes plastered to the side. Knowing the conflict raging under his scales right now hurt her, but it pained her more to know that what would be a storybook ending for her would be just the beginning for Spyro.
He kept a straight face regardless, hiding the pain under years of training.
“I really hope you’re right Twilight. I really do.”
Without another word, Spyro headed for the door, head high. Keeping each step resolute and strong, the male didn’t let the conflicting emotions deep inside change him. Each single step was forced forward without hesitation.
“Spyro.” He stopped mid step, turning his head to stare at her out of the corner of his eye. “Watch the door, I know you have a problem with those.” She gave him a dopey grin, a snicker practically bleeding off her words.
Spyro smiled toothily, giving the Alicorn a fake salute. “Whatever you say you big purple clutz.”
Twilight had turned with her own smile before the door had even finished closing behind his tail.
Now to the fun part. Running her eyes down the sheets of parchment, Twilight began to make sense the story the documents were telling her. Each page had a specific purpose, about four in total.
Page one told of the raw structure of what made of Convexity. Highly energetic lines of negative energy that wasn’t as paradoxical to the structure of his other elements. In fact it was nearly identical in many aspects. It was applied and projected in the same way for one. The defined structure was laid out in a long word, one that most would find hard to pronounce.
Go figure.
Page two outlined what the machines had picked up from Convexity upon its appearance. It came from a deeper part of the dragon’s core, its point of origin far deeper in him than the other four she had tested. Oddly, it didn’t match the others in where it came from. The others were organized at nearly opposite sided of his core. Convexity on the other hand was stationed at the very deepest part, its influence exerting throughout.
That was puzzling. Twilight got a very odd feeling she had stumbled upon something not even Spyro himself knew about. It appeared that Convexity was much deeper a part of Spyro than he realized. A much, much deeper part.
Page three detailed the interaction with baser forms of Twilight's magic, specifically the barriers she conjured when he had begun to manifest the aether energy that was Convexity. Amid the lines of detailed diagrams and myriads of complex vocabulary, something stuck out immediately. Her magic wasn’t eliminated in a surge of force like when she had collided with Tirek's distorted magic. Convexity amplified the strength of hers, illustrating as enhanced sensitivity.
In essence, Convexity was a steroid for her own magic, Twilight felt her knees go weak at the revelation. Something like this was unprecedented. Harnessing that would practically, double a pony’s potential if appropriately used.
The Alicorn mare suddenly got the feeling that she had made a life changing discovery, something that she would be forever remembered for. This was the cure for everything that could hurt a pony. Lives could be saved before they were lost! Tragedy could be prevented at the drop of a hat! This was incredible.
Page four. An analysis of Convexity’s interaction on chaos and unknown magic. The page was mostly blank save for one thing. A small diagram at the bottom showing its interaction with the small samples of condensed Discordian magic sitting in a bottle on the desk in the corner of the room. While unicorn and Alicorn magic had generally no effect on Chaos magic, it made over reliance on the Elements of Harmony a certainty, one that Twilight had been trying to fix for years.
It was not so much to keep Discord on a leash, but moreso to stop threats that relied on the magic he bled into the world and other dimensions. Twilight had felt that same magic in the Soothsayer, albeit much more raw than Discord’s. The Alicorn mare had been sweating over her own inability to even damage it’s form as it seemed immune to everything. Spyro’s base elements hadn’t even dented it either, only Convexity showing to be effective.
Well, this diagram was interesting. It showed Convexity destroying itself and the Chaos energy. But, it wasn’t just that.
It jeopardized it. The element inside it that restricted their magic from making a dent was neutralized.
It made it vulnerable to hers and Spyro’s magic.
Twilight nearly fainted on the spot, the parchments slipping to the floor in a pile. It felt like instinct, but Twilight found her gaze drawn towards the west, where behind a wall of crystal and a village full of ponies, it lied waiting.
The window had been opened. There would be no quarter.