//------------------------------// // 1 - Distress of the Heart // Story: Lessons in Chaos // by TobiasDrake //------------------------------// “Okay, girls, last chance to change our minds,” Twilight warned her friends. A brisk wind blew across Sweet Apple Acres that day, carrying a light chill that Twilight felt she could mistake for ominous, were she not clearly above such omens. “Are we absolutely certain that we want to do this?” “I don’t like having that thing around,” Fluttershy admitted meekly. “It’s too depressing to keep looking at.” “I agree,” Rarity said quickly. There was a hint of bitterness in her voice as she spoke; it was a subtle rage she reserved for personal betrayals, buried under her ever-present veneer of civility. Twilight had rarely ever heard it. More often than not, when it did come up, it seemed directed at Applejack. She’d never gotten the history there, but it piqued her curiosity more than once. “We agreed that I was to have the final word on the matter, and I say it’s almost too good for him. Besides, he is harmless now, is he not?” “There isn’t even a ‘he’ left, as near as I can tell,” Twilight confirmed. She looked to the wagon lying in the center of the path. Resting inside the wagon was a massive rock that appeared to be vaguely shaped like a diamond. Rarity had named it Tom a few moons back during the battle with Discord. After the battle was over, it had seemed hilarious then. It stopped being funny weeks later, when it had named itself Cardinal. A last-ditch contingency by Discord had gone off-script, deceiving and manipulating Twilight’s friends. Rarity had taken it the hardest; so far as anypony else was concerned, Tom’s fate was in her hooves first and foremost. “I’ve cast every spell I know to be sure,” Twilight continued. “Princess Celestia has as well. There’s still a bit of magic inside of Tom, but it’s residual. As near as I can tell, everything that we knew as Cardinal has ceased to exist. I wouldn’t even call it harmless, because that would imply that there’s something inside of it to be harmless. There’s not; any intelligence or will inside of Tom is gone. It would be impossible for the stone to reactivate.” “Then there ain’t nothin’ to fuss about,” Applejack said, hooking a hoof around Twilight’s. “Twi’s magic ain’t never led us wrong before and I ain’t about to start doubtin’ now.” A smile spread across Twilight’s blushing cheeks. She leaned gently into Applejack, savoring the tingling feeling across her skin at the touch of her special somepony. “Thank you,” she said simply. “We should have a party!” Pinkie suggested, leaping into the air from excitement at her own suggestion. “We can do it tonight! A going away party for Tom!” Applejack snickered. “Ain’t much of a goin’ away if the rock’s already gone.” “I think it’s a lovely idea, Pinkie Pie,” Rarity said. “Instead of a farewell party, we can have a Good Riddance Party to celebrate no longer living with the reminder in our midst.” “Good Riddance to Bad Rockish!” Pinkie Pie shouted. “It’s perfect! I’ll get started right away!” Before anypony could say anything, she was gone, bounding down the road for Ponyville. “I guess it’s settled,” Twilight said. “Does anyone want to say anything to, uh…to the rock?” Rainbow Dash had been silent throughout the conversation. At Twilight’s request, she shrugged. “I don’t know. He seemed kinda cool. Then he wasn’t. What else is there to say?” Clearing her throat, Rarity stepped forward. Addressing the stone, she said, “Farewell, Tom. I hope you make a better plug than you did a friend.” Twilight nodded at Rarity’s eulogy. “Well, we should get going, then. Are you all set back there?” Hitched to the wagon, Big Macintosh called back, “Eeyup!” “Great.” She nuzzled Applejack before untwining her hoof. “You don’t have to come, you know. Big Mac and I can take care of this.” “It ain’t nothin’, Twilight. Big Mac and I can handle the West Orchard soon as we’re back. I want to see this m’self. You, uh…you know where we’re going?” Twilight shook her head. “No, but that’s why we’re following….” She drifted off, suddenly realizing who was missing from the group. “PINKIE!!!” Deep in the Everfree Forest, Twilight laid Tom to rest in a large hole. He seemed to fit perfectly, blocking the entrance to the Mirror Pool forever. Once Tom had settled into place, Twilight let out an audible sigh. “Somethin’ wrong, sugar?” Applejack asked, coming up from behind her. Looking to Big Mac and Pinkie Pie, she said, “Why don’t y’all go on ahead and we’ll catch up? I think Twi needs a minute with the crazy evil rock.” “Eeyup.” “It just seems like a waste,” Twilight admitted, just as soon as the others were gone. “This was a kind of magic I’ve never seen before. A thinking, feeling, free-willed enchantment that feeds on magic is unheard of in Equestrian history. Princess Celestia was familiar with it, but none of the books I’ve read even suggested that such a thing is possible.” “Equestrians didn’t make Cardinal,” Applejack said bluntly. “This is all Discord, and the less we have of his magic lyin’ about, the better we’ll all be.” “Maybe you’re right,” Twilight said noncommittally. “Doesn’t it make you curious, though? I mean, if Discord is capable of crafting magic like this, what else could he--” “Let me stop you right there,” Applejack said, putting a hoof to Twilight’s lips. “There ain’t nothin’ good comes of this magic. Cardinal gave us a whole mess of trouble with a helpin’ of problems besides, and you know that. I love you sugar, but some things, there ain’t no good comes of messin’ with them.” Twilight seemed unconvinced but after a few seconds, she nodded slowly. “I know, but I can’t stop thinking about it. Discord’s dangerous, don’t get me wrong. The last thing Equestria needs is for him to ever find a way to be free again, but what if his magic could at least be put to--” Twilight interrupted herself with a giggle. “Hey!” Applejack had lain a foreleg over her neck and used the vantage to reach her ear, nibbling gently on it. “Quit that!” She shouted halfheartedly, straining to protest through the spreading grin. “What do you think you’re doing?” “Takin’ your mind off it,” Applejack whispered, before laying a kiss just under Twilight’s chin. “It’s just you, me, and miles of forest far as the eye can see.” “Don’t be morbid,” Twilight insisted despite herself, letting out a few more laughs. “Applejack, no,” Twilight said as firmly as she could. “No, I mean it.” Applejack stopped, pulling herself off of Twilight. “Home. Not here. Not in front of….” Twilight droned off, searching for a way to finish that sentence. It seemed silly to be worried about dignity in front of an emotionless rock, but sentimentally, she still thought of it as alive. “Home,” Applejack agreed. “But you’re forgettin’ this rock tonight. I got me a mission now.” Twilight’s purple face turned a bright shade of pink. “Is that right?” The stone, meanwhile, said nothing. As it had done for the past several months, it did nothing. It remained featureless, expressionless, and utterly devoid of thought or deed. Still blushing furiously from Applejack’s forwardness, Twilight gave it one last set of magical analyses and just as before, the rock gave no sign of even rudimentary activity. As difficult as it was to believe, Twilight accepted that this was the last time she’d see Tom. It was well and truly over, and deep inside, she knew that was for the best. She didn’t have time to dwell on it anyway; she had a date tonight and an impatient special somepony already dragging her away. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but wonder what could have been. “Your noodles are gettin’ cold, sugarcube. You sure there ain’t nothin’ on your mind?” Applejack asked, eyes gleaming with concern. It had been over a moon and a half since Tom was laid to rest and much had changed in the interim. “I’m fine,” Twilight said shortly. Levitating a fork, she stirred alfredo noodles on her plate, not quite looking at Applejack. “Please don’t worry about it.” “Y’know I worry,” Applejack admitted, reaching a hoof across the small, white-clothed table to lay it gently on Twilight’s. The bustle of one of Canterlot’s finest dining establishments had seemed oppressive to her once when she was a filly, but as she’d expected, Twilight seemed perfectly in her element. An lavender bubble surrounded the table, insulating the pair from the noise of the other patrons; Twilight had called it an isolation spell, and not for the first time, Applejack marveled at her talents. Twilight seemed to tense up at Applejack’s touch, but she did not reject it. “There’s been a lot on my mind of late,” she said noncommittally. “It’s still hurtin’ ya, ain’t it?” Applejack asked gently. “No,” Twilight started, but she corrected herself. “I mean, yes, but that’s not entirely it. It’s about Spike.” “Spike?” “More specifically, his comic book. What happened to all of us yesterday was incredible!” Twilight’s eyes lit up as she spoke, bringing a warmth to Applejack’s heart. The distance between her and Twilight had only grown since recent events, but when she found a chance to talk about magic, it was as though they’d never quarreled in the first place. Eagerly, Twilight continued. “The magic on display was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I’ve been researching it since last night and I think I might have….” She stopped suddenly. Applejack knew that look on her face intimately; she was feeling self-conscious about her proclivities. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “You’re probably not interested in my latest sojourn into magical theory.” Applejack smiled warmly and urged her partner, “You go on, Twilight. I might not get most of it, but that don’t mean I don’t like to hear it.” A gentle nudge to restore the lift to her voice. “Well, I think it might be connected to a visionary named Hayscartes,” Twilight resumed. “He wrote several texts considered to be the foundations of Equestrian philosophy. He made a profound impact on our understanding of mathematics. His influence led to the Haysian coordinate system. He was one of the most brilliant minds in all of Equestria!” “And this led to magic comics suckin’ in ponies?” “Not directly,” Twilight said. “But there were urban legends back in school about a special magic Hayscartes used in his studies that was supposed to be able to put him directly inside a book, so that he could absorb the knowledge more directly. I’d written it off as a myth before, but with a little more time to study Spike’s comic, I believe I might be able to recreate it.” “I’m sure you can, sugarcube,” Applejack reassured her. “You be sure and let me know if there’s anythin’ I can do to help.” “I will,” Twilight said. For just a moment, Applejack could see the same glow in her features, the same light that seemed to shine from the smile she knew was meant only for her. But that moment passed too quickly and before long, Twilight had plunged back into the emotional quagmire that tonight’s dinner had been meant to lift her from. Applejack lifted her bowl of soup, sipping from the edge. “Apple Bloom lost another foal tooth today,” she said, trying to fill the silence. “Did she?” “Eeyup. Big Mac’s too big to go clompin’ ‘round in the dark and Granny’s too creaky, so teethin’ duty falls to me.” Twilight waited a moment, expecting further explanation to fill the silence. When no such answers came, she asked, “Falls to you to do what, exactly?” “I’m the Toothicorn, Twilight,” Applejack said bluntly. With comprehension failing to break out over Twilight’s face, Applejack explained, “Apple Bloom hid her tooth under her pillow, and I gotta sneak it out of there when she’s sleepin’ and leave a bit in its place.” “Why would she put her tooth under a pillow?” “So the Toothicorn will take it and leave her a bit. It’s supposed to put a little magic in a filly’s life. Did your folks not do that for ya?” “My fillyhood had plenty of magic,” Twilight answered. “I started reading the volumes on Theory of Spellcraft when I was--” “Not that kind of magic. I’m talkin’ about fantasy, Twilight. Helpin’ her see there’s more to life than just what her eyes can see and her hooves can feel. Not everythin’ has to be understood.” Twilight looked down at her plate. Her fork continued its incessant spinning, never lifting. She considered taking a bite, but the impulse abandoned her as soon as she thought of it. Looking back up at Applejack, she asked, “You do this by…you know what, never mind.” “No, go on,” Applejack urged her. “She’s your sister, Applejack. It’s really not my place to say.” “It ain’t, huh?” Applejack sighed. She wanted to press the issue, but she understood too well why Twilight felt that way and she knew bickering wouldn’t help anything. “So, did you hear Rarity’s talkin’ ‘bout some big fashion hullaballoo that’s comin’ up?” “Is she?” Twilight asked. “I hope that goes well for her.” “This is me,” Twilight said plainly, arriving at the doorstep to the Golden Oaks Library. “I should….” She hesitated, wrestling with her thoughts. What should she do? Bid Applejack a good night? Thank her for the lovely evening she’d attempted to provide? Invite her inside. Twilight knew that impulse intimately, but as soon as she opened her snout to put words to it, another struck. She did this to me. A pain that was becoming all too familiar to her too quickly welled up from within. She looked into Applejack’s eyes and she saw love in them. She felt her body warm with need, but her heart struck knives into her muscles that held the feeling at bay. “Twilight,” Applejack said, filling the silence. “I gotta say somethin’ to you, and tonight’s a lovely night to do it.” She looked up at the stars that dotted the sky, then drew in a deep breath. “What is it?” Twilight asked curiously. “Twi, sugar, you know I ain’t no good at putting my feelin’s to words. I wrote down everythin’ I wanted to say to you tonight, so I could just read off what I mean from my heart. I, uh…I don’t got that with me. It might have accidentally got mixed up in the pigs’ feedin’ trough.” “You fed my letter to pigs?” Twilight asked. “Well, Apple Bloom came snoopin’ ‘round and Granny was in the kitchen so…y’know what, that ain’t what matters,” Applejack insisted. “I want to tell you that I think you’re great and the colors of your hair match the sky? Somethin’ like that? Consarnit this ain’t comin’ out right.” Twilight stared flatly at Applejack, watching her fluster. “You probably shouldn’t have fed my letter to pigs, then,” she added dryly. “Twilight, I love you,” Applejack said directly. “I know we had our problems but you’re still the first thing on my mind come crack of dawn. I know I ain’t exactly been the best of Special Someponies recently and I’m mighty sorry about that, but I miss what we had before. Time was, even my hardest days were always worthwhile, knowin’ my evenin’ glow was somewhere out there, thinkin’ of me.” Applejack stepped forward, lifting up Twilight’s chin with her hoof. “I miss you, sugarcube. I hate sayin’ goodnight like this, not knowin’ if I’ll even get a kiss. I hate sleepin’ alone night after night, wonderin’ when I’ll even see you again. I want to go to bed holdin’ you tonight. I want to feel your heart beatin’ against--” “Applejack, stop,” Twilight said sternly, pulling away from her. “Please,” she added more gently. She resented the pleasant tingle on her chin where Applejack had touched her. It would have been so easy to sink into that feeling, to let herself be carried away on the winds of passion that seemed to become stronger with each passing day that she was apart from her partner. “I miss you too,” Twilight said. “I never could have imagined the impact you’ve made on my life. Every day that we’re apart is harder than the last. You hurt me and that’s a journey that’s going to take a long time to heal, but I don’t want to make that journey without--” “I can’t do this,” she said simply, shaking off the words flooding into her mind. “Not tonight.” “Twilight,” Applejack started with a sharp edge to her voice. Instantly, Twilight knew that she wanted to say something, to press the issue, but she caught herself. After a few seconds Applejack muttered with a nod, “Yeah, I got it. Not tonight.” The dejection in Applejack’s voice cut sharper than the edge had, and Twilight couldn’t help but feel disappointed in herself as she watched Applejack turn and go. After a quick internal struggle, she called out, “Applejack, wait!” Trotting to catch up, she met Applejack with a kiss, pressing as much of her love as she could into the gesture. For several long moments, Twilight kissed her Special Somepony. She raised a hoof to the side of Applejack’s head, stroking downwards across her neck while she kissed her. For as long as she had the strength, she lingered in the moment, shutting out the entire universe but for her and the pony she loved. Finally, over a minute later, she relented. Before Applejack could form a coherent thought, Twilight told her, “Thank you for being patient with me. I love you. I do. But there’s still a lot that I need to sort out.” “Yeah, I got it,” Applejack said simply. She still sounded dismayed, but Twilight could tell from her voice that she’d helped a little bit. She could only hope Applejack would be patient enough. “Whoa!” Rainbow Dash shouted, diving out of the way of a red, inflated sphere. The ball slammed into the net behind her, rolling down the netting to a stop on the ground. “You almost took my head off with that!” she shouted in alarm. “Sorry, Rainbow,” Applejack said quickly, taking a quick breather. She strolled across the clearing to a small bench. Twisting the cap off a bottle of water with her teeth, she slammed it down before returning her attention to her friend. “What, that’s it?” Rainbow Dash asked. “You’ve obviously got something itching up your tail end and you’re seriously not going to tell me what it is?” “It’s Twilight,” Applejack said bluntly. “Gotcha.” After a few seconds, she asked, “Do I want to know?” “Six weeks, Rainbow. It’s been six ponyforsaken weeks Twi and I’ve been tryin’ to patch things up and she’s still givin’ me the brush off. I’ve been in the doghouse so long everythin’s startin’ to smell like Winona!” “Well, you did stomp on her heart pretty good.” “I know!” Applejack grunted in frustration. “You don’t got to remind me what I’ve done. I get it. But I’ve got…I mean….” She tried to find a way to put her feelings to words, but every way of saying it just made her feel ashamed for her own frustrations. Rainbow Dash sighed. This game wasn’t getting back on its hooves right now and she figured she could use a break as well. Still, she’d rather be anywhere else in Equestria than in the middle of this conversation. “Look, I get it,” she said, dropping to her haunches next to Applejack. “I’ve been there.” “How are things goin’ with Pinkie anyhow?” Applejack asked. “They’re not,” Rainbow Dash answered with a glare. She wasn’t certain whether to be grateful for the deflection or agitated, but it was a prickly subject Applejack had stepped into. “Ain’t you and her--” “There are no ‘things’ between me and Pinkie,” Rainbow Dash said firmly. “We’re friends.” After a few seconds, she added, “…who sometimes have sleepovers.” Before Applejack could say any more, she quickly brought the conversation back on track. “And that’s your problem, isn’t it? You’re bummed out ‘cause you’ve got needs and Twilight quit having sleepovers,” she said pointedly. Applejack took a second to catch the meaning in Rainbow Dash’s choice of phrase. “What?! No, that ain’t…well, it ain’t just that,” she said defensively. “Uh-huh.” Rainbow leaned back against the bench, knocking back a bottled water. She shot a skeptical glance at Applejack as she drank. “It ain’t! Twi’s been distant ever since we had our spat. Sometimes I feel like everythin’s set back to rights, but then she turns cold and we’re right back where we started.” “And you’ve talked to her, right?” “Of course, I’ve talked to her! And she ain’t….” Applejack sighed. “She ain’t wrong to be mad or nothin’. I’m just ventin’, Rainbow. I told Twilight she could have the time she needs and I meant it, but land’s sake, it ain’t easy. It’s gettin’ harder every day.” Lacking in ideas for how to console her friend, Rainbow Dash settled on giving her a firm pat on the back. After a few pats, Applejack said, “Thanks, Rainbow. I’m better now. Let’s get back to it.” “To clarify, you have spoken about your feelings with Applejack, have you not?” Rarity asked flatly, staring pointedly at a section of the hot tub to Twilight’s left. The olive face mask created a sickly glare even through the cucumber slices she wore on her eyes. The purple towel wrapped around her mane, however, slightly undermined the severity of her interrogation. “Yes, we’re talking about it,” Twilight said. She took a couple of seconds to consider options for correcting Rarity’s imposing alignment, then settled on scooting her haunches over in order to be more directly in the line of Rarity’s glare. “Well, I certainly hope so, because this becoming formulaic and I abhor predictability. You and her play nice with each other and pretend everything is okay and then you come to tell me that everything is not okay and before long, everypony is mad at each other and sometimes Equestria is threatened by evil.  To be perfectly honest, Twilight, I consider open and honest communication between you and your Special Somepony to be a matter of national security.” “Yes, we’re talking about it!” Twilight shouted. “Good.” Twilight thought she saw Rarity’s features soften, but it may have simply been one of the cucumbers sliding out of place. “I know that you and I have had our differences recently,” she said with a sigh. “I want you to know that I do want for you and Applejack to pull through this.” “I know,” Twilight said. “That’s why I’m here. I want to forgive you, Rarity. I want it to be like it was before, but every time I try to sink back into the things I used to love to do with my friends, it feels wrong. I feel like there’s something broken inside of me, and it’s so much worse when Applejack’s around.” “And you feel that way around me as well?” Rarity asked carefully. “Around all of you. You were supposed to be my friends and you lied to me. She hurt me terribly and all of you stood by and let her do it. You knew what was going to….” She stopped herself, feeling her own voice starting to rise and her muscles start to push at her to stand. “I’m sorry,” she said, reclining back into the hot tub. “No, Twilight, I’m sorry,” Rarity said gently. “All I wanted was for it to work out. I did lie to you and I am dreadfully sorry that I did, but I thought that the both of you deserved a chance at happiness.” She reached out for Twilight’s shoulder, but the distance was too great. Her hoof dangled in midair, searching for pony flesh to tap down on. Twilight reached out her own hoof and gently tapped Rarity’s with her own. “I know that. Logically, I understand why you lied to me. But it still hurts. How can I trust you again? How do I trust any of you again?” “I don’t have the answer for that,” Rarity said simply. “All I can suggest is that you take it one day at a time. Also, for what it’s worth, I don’t believe Fluttershy ever lied to you. I would be shocked if she knew anything about Applejack’s past and I doubt she follows the rumor mill. It’s unfair to tar her with the same brush you use for Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, and myself.” “I know that,” Twilight said in response. “I don’t have anything against Fluttershy. It’s just a mouthful to have to say, ‘except Fluttershy’, every time I talk about this.” “Good. As long as we’re in agreement on that.” “But as hard as this is, it’s even harder with Applejack. I keep thinking about what she did to those other mares and what she did to me. Logically, I can’t think of any reason for why I should trust her, but I keep thinking of the good I’ve seen her do. I want to believe in who I know that she is.” Rarity sighed. “I should tell you that this sounds dangerously similar to some other sentiments I’ve heard in my shop, and those historically have rarely ended well. You cannot rely on other ponies changing themselves for you. That never ends well.” “I don’t need her to change,” Twilight said sadly. “I like who she is. I just need her to stop bailing on me whenever she thinks we might be headed towards a hard point in our relationship.” “That’s asking her to change,” Rarity said simply. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s something I’m certain that she wants to work on as well, but you must understand where she’s coming from. Some ponies in situations like hers can become rather clingy, but others become quick to push away for fear of being hurt again.” “Then how am I supposed to trust her again?” Twilight asked. “Darling, if I had ever cracked the vault that is Applejack’s heart, I would never have needed to place bets on it in the first place. Now, I could gab for hours about what’s wrong with her, but fixing it? That is much too far beyond my expertise. The place to start, I’d imagine, is with you. Do you want to be with Applejack?” “I do,” Twilight answered. “I truly do. But whenever I’m around her, it doesn’t feel right.” “May I ask a very personal question? I assure you, I would not be asking if it was not important.” “Go ahead?” Twilight replied tentatively. “Have you been, shall we say, ‘intimate’ with Applejack since this began?” A redder shade of purple spread quickly across Twilight’s face at Rarity’s question. Despite Rarity’s circumstantial blindness, Twilight lowered herself more fully into the water of the hot tub, sinking down to her nose. “You don’t have to answer the question if it’s too personal,” Rarity added. “…we’ve been distant,” Twilight said, slowly emerging from the water. “May I ask why?” Twilight sighed. “I want to be with her. I do. But it just doesn’t feel right. Now, in my books--” “Oh, Twilight, no.” “I know, I know. Just hear me out.” Twilight smiled, thinking back to some of the stories she’d read in her lifetime. “In my books, the heroines and heroes of Equestria would go on these epic journeys of daring and virtue to earn the love of the lord or lady they were courting. They’d do a heroic deed to prove how much their love meant to them.” “That’s what you’re looking for?” After a few seconds, Twilight nodded. “I want Applejack to slay a dragon for me, yes.” Across the room from the hot tub, Spike suddenly coughed. Laid out on the massage table, his sudden motion gave Aloe a start. “Not a literal dragon,” Twilight called across the room. “A figurative dragon made of metaphors!” Looking back to Rarity, she continued. “I know it’s probably silly, but I need that. I keep thinking about the others that came before me. Octavia Melody, Crystal Chalice, and twelve other ponies who were with Applejack before I was.” Bitterly, Twilight added, “Sometimes I feel like I’m not really her Special Somepony. I’m just her Latest Somepony.” “I’m not sure that’s fair--” “It’s not! It’s completely unfair! But it’s how I feel, Rarity, and I can’t control how I feel.” “So you’re looking for her to perform a grand gesture of love?” Rarity asked. “And you’ve spoken with her about this? Did you not mention her taking you to Le Carafe Dorée last night? I can’t imagine that was easy on her bit purse.” “She did.” “That wasn’t grand enough for you?” “If it was, it would have made my heartache go away.” Twilight closed her eyes and reclined back against the wall of the hot tub once more. A minute passed in silence as she contemplated the hurt inside of her. She wondered idly if it would ever fade entirely. “How did you do it?” she asked Rarity. “How did you forgive her?” “Because of you,” Rarity said simply. “We started spending time together because we both wanted to be around you. It gave me a chance to see parts of Applejack I’d forgotten she had. We were forced to build a new friendship for your sake, and that helped us learn to respect each other once more.” Twilight sighed. “That’s not as helpful as I’d hoped it would be, but thank you.” “Applejack?” A tiny voice cut through the gloom of Applejack’s bedroom. The door slid open slowly, the hinge creaking in the night. “Are you awake?” Applejack added that hinge to a mental checklist of repairs that still needed to be done around the farmhouse. “Yeah, I’m up. Everythin’ okay, sugarcube?” Leaning over to her bedside table, Applejack clicked the button on her lamp, lighting up the room. Apple Bloom hopped up to the bed, curling up next to her sister. An object dropped from her teeth onto the bed by Applejack’s side. “That what I think it is?” Applejack asked. On the comforter before her sat a ratty old gray doll. A pair of red and blue buttons made up the eyes, but the red button held on only by a thread. The doll was dressed in a pair of blue shorts with white dots and what appeared to be a red napkin tied around its neck like a cape. “She was modelin’ the stunt for gettin’ our extreme skateboardin’ cutie marks,” Apple Bloom explained. With a sigh, she admitted, “And sometimes she’s nice to have around when I get to thinkin’ too much.” Applejack scruffed Apple Bloom’s mane. “Can’t imagine getting’ her away from Big Mac was a walk in the park.” “He gets sad at nights,” Apple Bloom replied. “He won’t say nothin’, but I think she’s comfortin’ to him. She’s a nice friend to have when you’re lonely, y’know?” Apple Bloom took a minute to think about that, then continued, “Suppose you wouldn’t, ‘cause you’re never lonely.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Applejack blinked. Apple Bloom reached out with her hooves, embracing Applejack. “Now, I don’t know what’s goin’ on with Twilight but we’re all pullin’ for ya. Ain’t none of us happy less’n you’re happy.” Inside, Applejack felt a piece of her heart begin to melt at Apple Bloom’s display of affection. She gave her sister a firm pat along her back. A single tear tried to fall from her eye, but she wouldn’t let it; not here, not in front of her sister. She was meant to be the strong one, to give these talks to Apple Bloom as she got older. “That’s mighty kind of you,” Applejack told her sister. “I mean that. Thank you. You should get on back to bed, now. I’ll be fine.” “We’re always here for you,” Apple Bloom said. She hopped back down off the bed, conspicuously leaving the doll where it lay. As Apple Bloom approached the door, Applejack called after her, “You forgot your doll!” At the door, Apple Bloom simply smiled and shook her head. “Ain’t my doll. It’s Twilight’s.” With those words, she departed, pulling the doorknob with her teeth to close the door. Applejack stared at the door where she’d left. For several seconds, her mind pored over the conversation she’d just had. Had Apple Bloom done this just to get the doll into her hooves? Was that the plan here? She looked down at Smarty Pants. She remembered Twilight talking about it; the doll was her favorite childhood toy, which had taken up residency in the Apple farmhouse after one of Twilight’s occasional meltdowns. Applejack shook her head at Apple Bloom’s conniving. That filly was too clever for her own good, and it was bound to get her in a mess of trouble one of these days. Ignoring it, she clicked the light on her bedside table and laid her head down on her apple-print pillow, resuming her efforts to find sleep in the dark night. “You’re never lonely.” Of everything that had just happened, that was the part that bothered her. Why would Apple Bloom think that? She had her cold nights same as every other pony in this household. The loss of her parents had hit the family hard and even now, there were nights she’d lie awake, thinking of the warmth and love they had before. From the sounds of it, so did Big Mac. She went out of her way to try and recreate that atmosphere for Apple Bloom every chance she got. She and her brother had worked tirelessly to ensure that Apple Bloom would grow up in a house as full of love, acceptance, and the occasional squabble as they did. She wasn’t a perfect replacement for a mother’s love; nopony could replace what Buttercup had done for her. But she tried. She rolled over, looking at that doll again. From what Apple Bloom had said, Smarty Pants had charted quite a journey through the household when Applejack wasn’t watching. She was an imaginary friend on loan; a dear memento from a family not their own. Staring at the doll, she couldn’t help but picture Twilight as a filly, probably studying her books with Smarty Pants propped in front of an open one, pretending to study too She thought of the adventures they must have had. “Look out, Smarty Pants!” Twilight shouted from atop a grassy hilltop, wrapped in a purple blanket spangled with stars. “There’s an ogre behind you!” She paused a moment, raised a hoof, and recited, “A Clasmorifis maraloficus ogre, of course.” She raised her hoof and exclaimed, “Its diet consists predominantly of berries and small birds, but it has been known to attack ponies of our size when hungry! Quickly! We must assemble a bird feeder that will attract its preferred habit of consumption to spare us from is wrath!” Smarty Pants fell over on her side. “We’re too late! I’ll avenge you, Smarty Pants!” Twilight shouted. Before she could move, a glimmering white stallion leapt onto the scene, waving a cardboard road left and right with his magic. “I’m here to save you, Twilight!” Shining Armor declared. “Take that, foul ogre! Take that! And that!” Despite herself, Applejack couldn’t help but laugh at the misadventures this doll must have seen. She wondered to herself how many private moments it had been privy to, how many secrets had been whispered to it in the dark night. What a life it must have led to bring it here now. She tried to lay back down again, but something stopped her. She kept staring at this little piece of Twilight’s past taking residence in her home. Nervously, she reached out and poked it with her hoof. “This is silly,” she said to herself, withdrawing her hoof and turning away, but once more she found herself drawn to it. She looked to the door. It was closed; nopony was watching her or listening in. She was all alone in the room with Smarty Pants, everypony’s best friend. “Okay,” she said with a sigh. “My turn, I reckon.” She lay down, facing the doll, and told her, “I’m lonely, Smarty Pants. I got Twilight’s love on paper but she ain’t with me in spirit.” Pouring out her soul to the doll seemed strangely easy. It came much easier than talking to another pony. There was no judgment coming from Smarty Pants. No hostility or resentment, no fear of hurting another pony’s feelings, no worry about what they would think of her in the future or what she might say that would come back to haunt her. For a pony who struggled with being as honest as she could, Applejack found honesty to be easier than it had ever been with Smarty Pants. “I’m scared I might’ve broke Twi’s heart for good. What am I supposed to do if she don’t never come back to me? She’s got me hangin’ in limbo waitin’ for her and I don’t know I can wait forever.” The doll, for its part, said nothing. “Bein’ with Twilight’s the best thing ever came into my life,” Applejack asserted. “And I know this is her first heartbreak and all and I gotta be patient with her ‘cause she don’t have the experience like me and the others, but it’s gettin’ harder and harder.” Smarty Pants lay on her side, giving no reply. “I don’t know what to do. I reckon there ain’t nothin’ can be done. Ain’t no sense worryin’ ‘bout the future, but that don’t mean I ain’t. I ain’t mad or sad or nothin’ can be acted on, I’m just scared and as Celestia’s in Canterlot, I got nothin’ that makes scared go away and I don’t reckon you do either.” Smarty Pants continued to stare non-judgmentally at a nondescript spot on the wooden headboard. Strangely, Applejack did seem to feel a little better for getting her thoughts out to the toy. She looked at the door again, once more making sure she didn’t have anypony watching or listening, then pulled the covers back up over her. “Thanks anyway for listenin’,” she said idly to the toy. A second passed. Then another. Then, without thinking, Applejack reached out and grabbed Smarty Pants, squeezing the toy to her heart. Somehow, just having her there seemed to warm Applejack’s heart, as though a precious piece of Twilight was with her through the cold and hostile dark. And it was there, in the private of the dark, that she finally allowed a single tear to stain her pillow. In the dead of the night, Twilight lay awake staring at the moon through her bedroom window. The room was quiet but for the sound of Spike’s snoring, and yet Twilight found herself struggling to hear herself think. The Hayscartes method was intriguing, to be sure, but it wasn’t a project. At the end of the day, it was a puzzle to be solved. After an hour of trying, Twilight abandoned hope on sleep. She slipped out of bed and descended the stairs to the library foyer. As she walked, several of her research journals pulled themselves from the shelves in her wake and settled onto the table; there was no need to check the titles, for she knew these shelves inside and out. She lit up her horn with a quick puff of magic and opened her journal on the Hayscartes method and read through her research, but none of it was new. There were a few notes from her fillyhood and several observations she’d found when examining Spike’s comic, but she’d seen all of this already. If she wasn’t dealing with the distraction of her heartache, she’d have solved it already, she was certain of it. She read through it twice, just to see if there was anything she hadn’t considered the previous times, but nothing came to mind. Frustrated, she closed the notebook and looked to some of her other documents. Several folders, notebooks, and a couple of binders lay neatly organized in piles on the table. Twilight began to sort through her other folders, looking for something that might actually hold her interest long enough to forget about the throbbing pain in her heart. She found her file on the Tree of Harmony, but there had already been depressingly little information about the Tree in her research, and nothing had indicated even a hint as to what the mysterious chest at its base could be. It was certainly a mystery she was sure to keep working on but based on what she knew now, that avenue was a dead end. She turned next to her journals on the mysterious portal to another world residing in the Crystal Empire. She was hoping to get more of an opportunity to examine the portal up close in the near future, but for now she’d settled for finding any information she could as to its design and purpose. She’d turned up nothing but mysteries thus far on that front as well. She did happen to find a passage in her autobiography of Star Swirl the Bearded, speaking of a great battle he led against a trio of Sirens. In the end, Star Swirl was forced to banish them to another world. The thought had crossed Twilight’s mind that it could be the same world that Sunset Shimmer now occupied, but it was purely speculation; lacking any conclusive evidence to link the two, she wasn’t about to go making assumptions. Just as she was about to give up, her eyes glanced across a single file buried under her journal on alicorn magic. It was a red notebook with a single name printed across the cover that she recognized with some dread. It was the project she’d been putting off, the in-depth dive into a realm unfathomable by ponykind. However, it became more pressing with each passing month, and she knew she couldn’t put it off much longer. Addressing the empty room, Twilight read the name aloud. “Discord.” “USELESS!!!” Twilight shouted in frustration, slamming her hooves down on the table in front of her. Behind her, Spike descended the stairs carefully. Morning had come as it always did, and he’d found her bed conspicuously missing upon awake. With a stomach full of dread, he came down to find her tearing through her paperwork in a sleep-deprived frenzy. Dryly, Spike asked, “Should I make room on the shelves for Applejack’s bone structure?” Ignoring the question, Twilight heaved a frustrated grunt and shouted, “There is NOTHING here! There’s never anything here, but there has to be something. He can’t just pull huge metaphysical shifts in the quantum structure of reality out of thin air, that’s not how magic works.” “So this isn’t about Applejack?” “There has to be a trick to it. Maybe there’s a law of magic that isn’t as sturdy as we think it is or perhaps there’s some hidden maneuver that he’s doing to realign the chromatic spectrum along the three spatial axes….” What passed for Spike’s hopes plummeted as he listened to her rant. Resuming his descent, Spike asked, “It’s the Discord file, isn’t it?” “I’ve been over my notes and observations but it’s all purely theoretical. Chaos magic can’t be studied. There’s nothing to study. Discord makes things happen and then everything snaps back with a click of his talons. It doesn’t leave any discernible trace. There’s no residue, no source magic to be traced, there’s nothing. It’s like it never even happened. This isn’t magic, it’s…I don’t know what this is!” “It’s not magic?” Spike asked, approaching the table. “Well, it’s obviously magic,” Twilight corrected herself. “But it’s not. Not really. Magic has spells and theories and practices. There are philosophies and fundamental procedures behind every spell we cast. Discord, so far as I can tell, doesn’t cast spells at all. He’s altering the fabric of reality with a wave of his claw. These are incredibly complex transmutations he performs, and he doesn’t even need a line of sight to what he’s enchanting.” “Okay, I’m going to need to take your word on it that this is different from what you do.” “There are certain fundamentals that govern every spell we cast. It takes a force of will, a skilled horn, and knowledge of the spell’s casting principles. Most of the casting is done internally through a series of meditations and conjurations; our horns act as a focal point, channeling that effect into reality.” “And Discord isn’t doing that?” “He’s not doing anything! Nothing he does is possible. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I’d think the surviving documents of his reign were making things up to discredit an unpopular historical figure. Nothing about him should be true and yet, here we are. I don’t even think his species is real! He’s called a draconequus but I’ve never heard of any such thing existing outside of him.” “He does look like someone glued a bunch of animal parts together,” Spike conjectured. “And that’s all I’ve got. Discord’s species probably isn’t real. Hours and hours of research and every conclusion I come to is telling me the same thing: Discord cannot exist. There are no metaphysical laws, no forces of magic, no possible circumstances in which Discord could be. But here we are. An impossible violation of every conceivable law of magic has tea time with Fluttershy on Thursdays.” Looking about the table, Spike couldn’t help but take notice of the state of the library. Several folders lay splayed across the table. A couple had landed on the floor. It seemed unlike Twilight to be so careless, even when she was frustrated with a project. There was something more to this, and it didn’t take him long to find it. “Twilight?” Spike asked, picking up a folder off the ground. The words “Relationship Matrix” lay etched on the cover. Setting it gently on the table in front of Twilight, Spike asked, “This isn’t really about Discord, is it?” Twilight opened her snout to speak, but the contents Spike had opened to caught her eye. Inside was a single photo from her birthday party in Canterlot. She and her friends had crashed another party taking place in the garden and, at one point, Fancy Pants had introduced her to a photographer, whom she’d asked for a birthday photo with a dear friend. Applejack hadn’t been her Special Somepony yet, but they’d been seeing each other for quite a while by that point and it seemed like a sweet gesture. Applejack had tried to sneak in a kiss before the photo snapped, but her timing was off. Emblazoned on the page in her folder was her own stunned expression, eyes wide in alarm at the sudden gesture of affection Applejack had given her. She supposed that, in its own strange way, the photo served as a metaphor for their entire relationship up to this point. “Think of it like a clinical trial,” she had said to Applejack. “In order to learn more, you observe and collect data on the subject. It’s an experiment.” Accepting Applejack’s offer had put her into a place to learn so many new things about herself, about love, and about the meaning of her relationships with other ponies. There were still new things she was discovering, but the more time she spent with her, the more natural it had become. The same was true of all her friendships. At some point, the letters had stopped getting written as often. Her interactions with all of them had ceased to be about what new things she could observe and had become about how much she enjoyed having them in her life. And with Applejack, what started as one surprised pony reacting to the sudden affections of another had taken root in her heart and grown to places she couldn’t even have imagined before. She turned the page to find the first of her old Friendship Letters to Princess Celestia, recounting her findings with Applejack. Reading the words Applejack had inspired from her, she could feel her heart beginning to lift. Tears began to form in her eyes as she read each one, word by word, remembering the way she had felt when she wrote them. Just past the letters, she found her notes from the Hearth’s Warming Eve play. On 43 occasions that I could observe, Applejack glanced at me. She sought my company three times while we were backstage, coming straight to me without hesitation and spending as much of the downtime with me as she could. There was a moment while we were onstage that her hoof brushed against mine and I could feel my heart pounding stronger just from the sensation of her touch. While I’ve tried to document each feeling that she’s inspired in me, the reality is that they’re becoming stronger and I fear that within one or two moons, I may cross a point of no return. The nearest equivalence I can make to the feeling is one of addiction. I find myself beginning to emotionally crave her. My ability to maintain sound mind and judgment has become dependent on her presence in my life. The truth of the matter is as plain as day. I have become emotionally compromised by this experiment. I am no longer capable of making an unbiased decision where she is involved, because my cognitive functions have already begun to shift to account for her. For both my sake and for hers, there is only one thing I can do now. It’s going to be hard, but I know in my heart that it’s the right thing to do. I’m going to ask her to be my Special Somepony. I hope she says yes. Tears dropped from Twilight’s eyes, staining the pages under her. She wiped at her face with a hoof while her magic turned to the next page, and it was there that suddenly everything clicked into place. Reading her observations and discoveries, it all made sense. She had the answer she’d been looking for, and it was right here all along. “This is it, Spike,” Twilight whispered. “This is exactly what I needed! Thank you!” She bolted up from the table, racing up the stairs to her bedroom. “Uh, you’re welcome?” Spike asked. “What is it? What did you find?” Twilight came bolting back downstairs with her saddlebags, urging Spike, “I need you to do something for me. It’s not hard but it’s really important.” “Of course. What do you need?” Applejack answered a pounding on the front door to find Spike standing on her doorstep. “Hi, Applejack,” Spike said nervously. “Mornin’ Spike. What can I do ya for?” Spike scratched at the back of his neck. “See, Twilight asked me to come get you. She said to tell you that, uh, ‘We need to talk.’” Applejack’s heart sank instantly. “There ain’t no good’s never come of those words,” she said dreadfully. “She also said that you’d probably panic and assume the worst when I said that, so I should assure you that she doesn’t want to break up with you.” “…that’s mighty specific, but a comfort all the same. Why don’t you tell Twilight I’ll be up to the library just as soon as I’m done with the mornin’ chores.” Applejack arrived at the library just before noon. She found Twilight waiting for her outside with a beaming glow emanating from her features. “Applejack!” Twilight greeted her, and for an instant, Applejack thought she might kiss her from excitement. “I’m glad you made it. I wanted to talk to you before any of the others got here.” “The others?” Applejack’s heart sank at those words. “Yes. I need everypony to be a part of this. If it works, we could change the face of Equestrian history as we know it. Come in, let me show you what I’ve got.” Before Applejack could protest, Twilight grasped her with her magic, pulling her through the door to the library. Resting in the middle of the room on the central table was a coarse stone roughly the size of a basketball. The rock’s texture indicated that it had been hewn from a larger stone, but the most conspicuous element was its pulsing glow. With a clearly discernible pattern, a red glow seeped out of cracks and fissures in the stone’s hide. It would linger for less than a second and then then fade back out only to return a second later. Surrounding the stone was a golden chest with layers of inscribed runes along its sides. The lid lay open, exposing the stone and its velvet interior to light. Applejack took a moment to glance from Twilight’s beaming grin to the stone, then back to Twilight. “Oh, sugar,” she said, making no effort to mask the horror in her voice. “Tell me that ain’t who I think it is.”