//------------------------------// // 3 - The Dream // Story: Predictions & Prophecies // by Kinrah //------------------------------// “Gah!” Twilight awoke in a cold sweat. It was still dark; her body clock told her it was sometime around midnight. At the foot of the bed, Spike snored, giving no indication that he’d heard her wake. It felt colder than it ought to have been, for an evening in the middle of April. Apart from Spike, it was otherwise silent. Some dream, huh. Despite the spa session doing its job well and alleviating the stresses the spell had put on her body, it still did little to ease her troubled mind. Da Colton’s workbook was placed carefully on the bedside table. Funny, from where she was in bed, it looked like any other book from the library’s collection. If only it was. Giving a resigned sigh, she levitated it in front of her and flicked it open to the words she’d written. It was the future. But was it a future she wanted? In a way, it was scarier than the time-travel related message from the future; then, she’d known that something was coming but had no idea what, albeit it had actually been nothing; now, all she had were cryptic messages with no indication as to how soon they’d come true. Any one of them could be coming true any moment and she wouldn’t have a clue. And the dream she’d just had… normally, she couldn’t remember them, but this one was much clearer than normal. (Princess Celestia had once taught her about lucid dreams, but the whole concept just didn’t seem to work for her.) Images had crossed her mind, emotions, along with the lines from the prophecy. There’d been a balloon. A lake. Her cutie mark. A strangely familiar crystal. Fear, despair, triumph. Gazing at the book, her eyes unfocusing, she wondered if that was what Da Colton saw when he cast the spell, images that he turned into paintings. She remembered once seeing some of his portraits in the Royal Gallery, as a little filly behind the towering figure of the Princess, and those sessions spent examining his spell weave. Had they really been…? Pages turned backward. There was such a myriad of information here. Some of it was things from the artist’s lifetime, but, others… she stopped on the pages describing the Elements of Harmony. He’d listed and sketched all six: honesty, kindness, laughter, generosity, loyalty, and magic. The identity of the sixth element hadn’t been known at that time - more to the point, scant few books mentioned the Elements at all, because they had been considered a faerie story, an old mare’s tale. The writing here paid due reverence to them. Had he seen them in a prophecy? She sighed again. She’d read herself to sleep, just like her mother used to do. Turning to a random page, she yawned, and began to read out loud, softly, so as not to disturb Spike. “The Alicorn Amulet bears resemblance to many charms of the pre-unification era, and whoever wears it is blessed with untold powers…” Wait, was that a breeze? Twilight opened her eyes. “Guh.” Okay, so either she’d lost track of time and fallen asleep really quickly and was now dreaming, or she’d sleepwalked outside. That was a definite possibility, though she tended to sleep-write instead of sleep-walk. Bearing in mind that she had absolutely no idea where she was, and that the sun was just being lowered across the horizon, she was probably dreaming. Again. This felt real. This felt too real. Most dreams that she did remember, she remembered after the fact, as an event that had happened. Right now, this dream was happening. She was standing in a field. There was mud under her hooves, there was the scent of wheat in the air, and yet… her surroundings were sort of empty. There was a river, barely deeper than her legs were long, a couple of trees, some clouds, and the sun. Nothing more. “Okay,” she ventured. “Lucid dreams are controllable. They can be influenced. In them, you can do what you normally could not.” The Princess’s lesson was finally coming into use. “But you have to be careful not to let them influence you.” Whatever that meant. “Okay,” she said again. “So… what do I do?” No voice answered her but the sun, completing its glimmering descent behind the empty horizon. No moon rose to take its place. Was there some significance in that? The sky now was populated by a single star, which twinkled at her. She tried twinkling back, before questioning why she was attempting to twinkle and whether ponies could twinkle in the first place, and ridiculing herself for trying to communicate with a star. What was she supposed to do? The Princess had regaled her with tales of building magnificent cities in the dream world, and here she was without a clue. Her imagination was drawing a blank. (That was clever of it.) Was there any way she could just wake up? She could try pinching herself, that seemed to be— “What do you see?” Twilight jumped at the voice behind her, and turned to see an orange pegasus mare with a brown mane and a labcoat sitting behind her, staring at her. Instantly, two questions ran through her head - the first, why is this pegasus in my dream, and the second, who is this pegasus anyway? She’d met many ponies over the course of her life, and was ashamed to admit that she’d forgotten a lot of them, but she felt positive that this was a new face, not one that her subconscious had filed away and randomly called up. On her flank there was no cutie mark to speak of, yet… If in doubt, ask. “Who are you?” The expression on the mare’s face was passive. “What do you see?” “Um, can you tell me your name first?” “What do you see?” There was no urgency or insistiveness to her voice, like… a record that had gotten scratched. “Um.” Okay, Twilight wasn’t going to get anywhere like that. Maybe it would just be a good idea to play along and see where her mind took her. “Well. I see… a star, I see trees, I see a river, I see you…” “(I see you?)” the mare mouthed, and she blinked a few times. “Are you sure?” Uh. Was this an interrogation? “I think I’m sure.” Twilight laughed nervously. How did one go about having a proper conversation with a dream pony? Was there some sort of checklist you had to follow? Had anypony ever written a book about talking to ponies in your dreams? Were there any etiquette guides? The pegasus frowned, and looked off to the side. “That can’t be right.” Twilight tried to follow her gaze, but there was just more nothing. The trees were in the opposite direction. “Are you sure you’re doing this properly?” “I don’t know how to interact with you!” Twilight flailed. “This is the first time I’ve met a dream pony!” She really, really hoped that there wasn’t an entire species of ponies that lived in dreams and that she could somehow offend them all by making a bad first impression. Things had been bad enough when the thestrals had come across the western seas to join the Royal Night Guard. The last thing she wanted to do was pull a Blueblood and end up insulting their traditions with everything she said. “Is there anything I’m supposed to do, or say?” “You’ll know when it’s working,” the mare said, adjusting her labcoat. “How about now?” (Okay, Twilight, focus! What would Princess Celestia do?) “Uh, hello! I’m Twilight Sparkle.” She held out a hoof. “Pleased to meet you.” Finally, an emotion crossed the mare’s face. “At last! Now, hurry up and let’s get on with this before—” An almighty rumble interrupted her, and the ground trembled beneath them. Panicked, Twilight looked around for its source, but there was nothing. What was that meant to represent in the dream? Was that something to do with the pegasus, or something completely different? “…the hay?” the mare finished. Twilight jumped again; whoever she was, she was now at her side, wings outstretched, and they were both standing next to the river. When had they moved? Or had the environment moved around them? What was with this pony? Wind rushed past them, but it only seemed to affect the pegasus. At their hooves, the grasses bowed to the currents of air. What…? Twilight was just lost for words now. How would any of this connect to the events of the past day? This had to be a result of the spell, but how? “I lost the balloon!” The mare was getting stranger and stranger. “Darnit! We were so close!” She looked at Twilight with apologetic eyes. “Sorry, now we’re going to have to start again.” “Why?” “We’ll try again later when the weather’s better.” “What?” A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention; the star had inexplicably moved to the horizon. “I don’t—” “You know, I really think—” With an enormous sound too big even to describe, the star exploded, knocking Twilight back into the river. Only there wasn’t a riverbed. She fell out of the water into empty air, tumbling head over tail, for what seemed like an eternity, until— Crash. “Yaaagh!” said Spike. “Twilight, are you…?” With a groan, Twilight Sparkle woke up, the side of her face pressed against the floor, her mane over her eyes. She’d fallen out of bed. “I just don’t get it, Spike.” It was raining now, the weather patrol having gotten enough clouds together to make up for yesterday’s problem-ridden skies. Still, the Forecast Centre up in Cloudsdale wasn’t likely to be happy, they never were when any weather was missed, even when there was good reason behind it. No doubt in a few days Rainbow Dash would be summoned before the southern region weather chief to answer why the scheduled weather hadn’t happened. Again. Once, Twilight had asked why Ponyville didn’t get more leniency, being next to the Everfree Forest and all. Storms were drifting from the Forest into the main Equestrian airspace all the time. What she’d gotten was a lecture - a lecture, given to her! - that sounded full of jargon the pegasi probably didn’t expect her to know the meaning of. Princess Celestia had had words afterwards, but there was little reason to think the situation had gotten any better. Even before breakfast, Twilight had something to deal with; the window. In the ‘excitement’ of yesterday, she’d completely forgotten the final sliver from the window that Rainbow had returned after her first crash. Lacking anything to cover the hole in the meantime, Spike had thoughtfully installed a bucket below to catch any rain that got blown in. Reconstitution had fixed that easily and without fuss, proving that her magic levels had returned to normal. Resting up after the magic exhaustion, check. Make sense of the night… not check. (She’d had to draw up an emergency checklist for that, and not being able to put a tick in one of the boxes was extremely aggravating.) Spike swallowed his mouthful of emerald. “Which part? The prophecy part or the dream part?” “Both!” Twilight rested her head on the table. It still hurt from its earlier impact with the floor. “I mean…” She looked up at him, and cast a quick spell to brush her forelock out of her eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a dream that weird before.” “I had this dream once where everypony was made of wood and I wasn’t allowed to breathe in case I set anypony on fire,” Spike pointed out, gesturing with his half-an-emerald. “Your weird dreams have nothin’ on mine.” Oh, Spike. Twilight allowed herself a laugh. “Yeah, that is… pretty weird.” “And this one time…” he stuffed the rest of his breakfast in his mouth and continued talking, but Twilight had already turned her thoughts back to trying to interpret the dream and the dream pony. One of the first things she’d done that morning, besides having a bath and fixing the window, was find a book on the subject of lucid dreaming. If it was to be believed, the pegasus was a construction or avatar of her subconscious, attempting to communicate something that her waking mind either couldn’t or refused to process. Yes, that was a possibility, but it hadn’t really tried to tell her anything at all. And the prophecy… that still lingered, but maybe the Princess was right, maybe it would be better to wait and see what would happen. The only other clue she had to what it might mean was the images she’d seen during the first dream, but she’d tried drawing them and failed. She was not an artist. Maybe if she could find one willing to help her, Share was a fairly easy spell to cast, and she’d had some fairly recent practice with it, too. Until then, though… During the spa visit, Spike and Rainbow had done a good job of getting all the books back on the shelves, despite all the Daring Do books piled on the floor on Twilight’s return. According to the dragon, there had been some resistance from Rainbow on the subject of using the diagram, but she didn’t put up too much of a fuss and just got on with it. That was her dues for breaking the window done. Hmm… Twilight got up from the table and trotted over to the DIY section. Was there a spell she could use that could increase the tactile strength of the window itself? Maybe the pegasus would use the door if she couldn’t get in through the window. Unfortunately, it seemed she was out of luck. There were books on carpentry, plumbing, furnishing… but no windows, and as far as she knew, generic strengthening spells weren’t effective on glass. She’d have to do some experimenting sometime. With much more care and attention than she’d paid yesterday. And- There was a muffled voice from outside. “Whooa—” Thmp. That was somepony at the door. Oh, Ditzy was due. She’d been so distracted she hadn’t noticed the time. “Good morning, Di— oh gosh.” Upon opening the door, Twilight found Ditzy on the ground, eyes spinning, bearing a very red nose. She must have slipped on the— oh, hay. Wet leaves were always a hazard in the rain, and if you lived in a house that happened to be covered in them, they did tend to get on the path if said house gets crashed into, and if you didn’t sweep them away because you were distracted over a certain spell. Getting to the door normally with leaves on the path was fine, if you were careful, but if you lacked a certain degree of depth perception… She lifted the mailmare up. “Ditzy Doo, are you okay?” “I’m fine!” She wasn’t. With all the rain, she was sodden through, her left eye had wheeled away from the right, and now there was just the tiniest hint of a nosebleed. Twilight retrieved a tissue and dabbed it away. Yes, the mail was vital, but with this weather and in this condition, she couldn’t conscientiously let Ditzy continue on. After all, if she’d remembered to clear the leaves away, she might have been okay to go on. “I’m not gonna cry!” Curse her inability to master healing magic. “Ditzy, I think it would be better if you went home and let your sister continue your rounds,” Twilight suggested. While the rain wasn’t going to let up, at the very least Flutter Doo wouldn’t be juggling an eye defect and a banged nose. “No, no. The mail must continue!” Ditzy pulled out a letter, pushed it past the unicorn into the interior of the library, turned around, and promptly fell on her face again. “Ow!” Time to be proactive. “Spike, I’m going out! Ditzy, I’m taking you home. I’m sure your sister will understand.” Glancing around, Twilight grabbed an umbrella from the box near the door. By this point, the mailmare was crying, even if she refused to admit it. “Let’s go.” “But—” “I know this is important to you, but you’ve hurt yourself and it’s partially my fault.” As she said it, she cleared the leaves from the path with a quick multitude of Levitations. It was simple, easy, and she should have done it yesterday after the actual impact, though the lack of rain had probably pushed it from her mind. She put the umbrella up. “Come on, let’s get you to the post office.” It must have been an unusual sight, Twilight reasoned, leaving the library with a teary-eyed pony in the pouring rain. The weather being what it was, there were barely any ponies on the streets; those that were, dashing between shelters, gave them sympathetic looks. Ditzy didn’t hurt herself that often, but every time she did, everypony noticed her absence and wished her well. Ponyville was always changing, what with all the Weird Things that kept happening, but Ditzy was a constant. Ponies like her made the town what it was. The pegasus sniffed loudly, and Twilight passed her another tissue. She graciously accepted the cloth and blew her nose loudly, veering slightly off course as she did so, and Twilight had to pull her back to a straight line before she hit a fence. She’d once asked how flight was even possible with little to no depth perception, and the answer was simply that Ditzy had practice. In a situation like hers, ponies could do one of two things; they’d either never fly again, or they did what this grey mare did and just got on with it like there was no problem at all. With the umbrella keeping them mostly dry, it wasn’t long before they reached the post office, just off the town square, and Twilight rapped on the door. Even during the mail delivery window, there was usually at least one pony still to be found behind the counter. Yes, they were in luck - and it was the purple-maned mare they were here to see. Flutter Doo opened the top half of the door. “Oh dear,” was her only comment, before unlocking the lower half and pulling it open. “Orange!” she called further back into the office. “Ditzy’s crying again!” Ponyville’s post office wasn’t quite a Ponyville Weird Thing, but it operated on the edge of becoming one. Letters were collected and delivered by Ditzy and Flutter, and the more bulky parcels and packages were dealt with by their twin cousins Cryo Doo and Orange Box. Some ponies claimed that occasionally letters arrived at their destination before their writer had even written them, and the conspiracy theorists (aka the flower shop ponies Daisy, Lily Valley, and Roseluck) believed that the entire family had mastered the art of time travel. That was of course impossible. It had sapped a lot of Twilight’s strength just to go back for a minute or so, and to suggest that such a strenuous magical activity was being used by pegasi to deliver mail was just ridiculous. Ditzy entered the building. At least, she tried to. Before Twilight could correct her she walked straight into the doorframe. When she, with a fresh red mark down her face, had been settled inside on some cushions, Twilight turned to Flutter to explain, and opened her mouth— “Rainbow Dash, right?” Flutter said. Twilight was taken aback. “Um, no?” Well, indirectly, but… “Oh.” Flutter’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure?” “Pretty sure.” What did Rainbow Dash have to do with this? “She slipped on some wet leaves outside the library and hit her head on my door.” “Told you so!” hollered one of the twins from somewhere upstairs. Putting a hoof to her head, Flutter sighed. “Okay. Ditzy, did you do Bell Perin’s, or—” Ditzy shook her head. “Right. Pass me the bags then. Guess it’s time to get wet.” “Sorry about this,” Twilight offered, as Flutter strapped the bags on. “It’s my fault she slipped.” “Don’t worry about it.” The pegasus grinned. “It tends to happen around wet trees, if not Ditzy, then one of us. Right after the Running of the Leaves it’s the worst.” “Wrong!” announced Orange Box, dropping through the mail hatch in the ceiling. “It’s worst in winter.” “Wrong!” announced Cryo Doo, also dropping through the mail hatch and landing on top of her sister. “It’s worst in summer!” Her face twisted in mock horror. “So. Many. Postcards.” “Get offa me.” “You two, get back to work.” Flutter had a commanding voice, though with the twins Twilight suspected that was a necessity. “Time to take the plunge.” She opened the door again, to the pounding rain. “Oh boy. Rain, snow, gloom of night, my plo—” Slam. For a moment, Twilight’s gaze lingered on the door, before moving to the twins, who were giving each other death glares. She’d comment on the strangeness of the situation, if only it wasn’t like this every time she stepped into the post office. It wasn’t that she came here often, though - most of the time, it was simply easier to give the letters to Ditzy on her morning round rather than trudge down here and resist the urge to research the office’s inner workings. The big office in Lower Canterlot near where she used to live had never been as confusing as this place could be. Ditzy blew her nose again, the noise apparently making the twins snap to attention. “You didn’t have to do this, Twilight Sparkle.” Resting a hoof on her back, Twilight smiled. “Don’t be silly, Ditzy. What kind of friend would I be if I let you go on to hurt yourself more after something that was my fault?” “I hurt myself all the time,” Cryo put in. “She does,” confirmed Orange. “I’m gonna go make tea. Want some?” With another loud nose-blowing, Ditzy nodded. Twilight nodded too, and sat down; Spike would be alright in the library for a while. “Please. No sugar.” She’d never had tea from the post office before, and she idly wondered how it would taste. It would obviously hold nothing over the Zebra blends that Zecora brewed, and it would have to be very good indeed to come close to the exclusive Royal Tea, but at least it couldn’t be any worse than the awful stuff from Fillydelphia that didn’t even deserve to be called not-tea. Princess Celestia and she had drunk some during a lesson there, and afterwards both of them agreed: never again. The mare serving the ‘Authentic Equinnium Tea’ as it was called was very adamant that it was good for the nerves; she’d also evidently been duped as Twilight had tasted actual Equinnium tea, and the authentic stuff? It wasn’t. At least Ditzy was looking a lot better now, and there weren’t any more signs of the nosebleed. That wasn’t to say it had stopped; Twilight was not a doctor, and all her attempts to try healing magic - even diagnostic spells - had failed spectacularly. There was nothing to freak out the royal guard more than to have the Princess walking around as a living x-ray for a few hours. She was drying out, too; by listening to extensive complaints from Rainbow Dash Twilight had learned that flying in the rain was at least twenty times more difficult than normal flying due to water affecting the aerodynamics of the feathers. Sometimes, she looked at this mailmare and wondered how in Equestria she was still able to fly. “Ditzy,” she started, “Have you—” Before she could ask her question, Ditzy’s eyes bulged, and she lunged forwards, wings outstretched. For a moment, Twilight was left wondering why, until the reason became apparent as the grey-purple and blonde shape of Dinky Doo dropped from the mail hatch and landed on her mother’s back. There was a story behind Dinky Doo known to precious few ponies. Twilight was not one of them. In Ponyville, it was limited to just the Doo family and Fluttershy, and the first time Twilight had inquired, Fluttershy had advised her, very sternly indeed, that asking was a Very Bad Idea. The filly herself was as cheerful as any other foal in the town, having quite clearly inherited Ditzy’s enthusiasm and passion for muffins, along with a sense of perception that was somewhat unnerving at times. Twilight had first met her on her third day in the town; Dinky had immediately told her exactly what she’d eaten for lunch and pointed out a scrap of mashed potato in her mane that would otherwise have gone unnoticed. “Good catch, Momma!” “Muffin, what has mommy told you about the mail hatch?” “I was following Auntie Cryo.” Cryo, who’d been standing behind the office counter with a somewhat vacant expression, tried to disappear behind a set of scales. “Good morning, Miss Twilight!” “Good morning, Dinky Doo.” “Dinky…” The filly gave a rather exaggerated sigh, and hopped down from her mother’s back. “Mister Mail Hatch is not a toy, Mister Gravity is not our friend.” Immediately she brightened up. “I drew a picture for you, Momma!” She produced an envelope and gave it to Ditzy. “I kinda ran out of charcoal though…” Whatever it was, Ditzy’s expression was impressed, and somehow Twilight could tell that it was genuine as opposed to the look most ponies gave foals regardless of whether the action was impressive or not. Ditzy’s bubbly personality always seemed more subdued when she was with Dinky - was that parenthood at work? “Beautiful as always, Muffin. Why not show it to Miss Twilight?” Twilight didn’t know what she was expecting - the art class she’d assisted Cheerilee with at the Ponyville school had been mostly stick ponies in fields - but she was not prepared for the rendition on the back of the envelope when Dinky proudly presented it to her. Though it still had a slightly crude foal-like composition, it was the town hall and the town square, undoubtedly the view from one of the upstairs windows, probably as it looked right now, with the exception of the large lightning bolt that was striking the fountain in the square. There wasn’t a thunderstorm outside, it was only rain. She asked Dinky about it. “I was running out of charcoal and worked out if I put lightning there I wouldn’t have to use as much.” “That’s…” Twilight blinked. “…clever.” “Still ran out, though, look.” Dinky gestured to the left edge of the envelope, where the clouds conspicuously lightened. “That was my last bit, too.” Almost as if she was anticipating what her daughter was going to say next, Ditzy took the advantage. “Sorry, Muffin, but Mommy needs those for work.” “Aww.” Dinky is good at art. Was she seriously even considering that? She’s an artist and in front of me right now. There were plenty of artists in Ponyville! Ponet hates me, Rarity’s busy, and let’s not even talk about Cinnamon Swirl. Surely Ponet couldn’t still hate her for— yeah, he could. He most definitely could. Cinnamon Swirl… gloss over that… Rarity was more of a fabric artist, and was likely to be on her third day straight without sleep. Twilight had been there, as had Applejack; even after one skipped rest their cognitive processes had been breaking down. Hopefully Rarity finished that order before the sleep deprivation ruined it. Whatever way she looked at it, Dinky was a viable option for the whole prophecy stroke art situation, and the mental lever was leaning towards asking her. What harm could there be in asking? Share was completely harmless and had a certificate to prove the fact. It practically had a doctorate in spell safety. Oh, and it had been written by artists specifically for artists. Mustn’t forget that. If Dinky’s talent lay somewhere in artistry, and from this level of skill it’d be very surprising if it didn’t, she was bound to end up learning this spell anyway. “Dinky,” Twilight ventured, “Do you think you could help me with something?” Dinky paused in the middle of tucking the envelope away. “What is it?” Phrase this carefully, Twilight… “I’ve got a bit of a… an art problem, and I was wondering if you could…” Ah! “Do you take commissions?” The little pony’s brow furrowed. “What’s a commission?” “It’s where I ask you to do some art for me, and I pay you.” “What with?” Ditzy giggled. Erm… “Money?” At the mention of the word, Dinky’s eyes lit up, and there was a very audible cha-ching. “Auntie Cryo’s playing with the till again.” “Sorry!” “Hmm… What sort of art?” “Well… I have a spell that’ll show you what I would like you to draw.” “When we don’t know what it does, Mister Magic isn’t our friend either,” Dinky recited. “I think.” Very astute. But… “It’s called Share, and it’s the same one I used last week to show you and your classmates our fight against Discord.” Twilight didn’t operate well at the teaching end of a classroom full of foals, at least not yet, but Share had come in very useful when Cheerilee had asked if she and the other Element bearers would come in and teach them about harmony. It wasn’t easy for Twilight to explain things like that without going into all the scientific and technical terms, and using them wasn’t efficient if you had to define every single one of them every time you used one. Much easier to beam the images directly into their minds, as if they were actually there. “It’s actually a spell artists use when colla— when working together, so they can show each other ideas before they start. When we’re finished, I can teach it to you, if you want.” “Oooh,” put in Ditzy, who’d relocated back to the cushions. “What d’you think of that, Muffin? Miss Twilight can teach you a new spell!” It wouldn’t quite be as simple as that, in a worst case scenario Dinky’s magic would be incapable of casting it successfully, and it would take a while, but Twilight didn’t mention any of that. Foal unicorns had to be careful when learning new magic; overdoing it even a little would result in exploding. Twice. Or more. It varied from pony to pony. Only— “Nope.” Oh well, fair dos— “Can’t. Got no charcoal.” “I’m sure we can find some charcoal somewhere.” The search for drawing material went on for some time, not helped in the least by the arrival of the tea shortly after the start. (Six out of ten. Standard Equestrian blend.) Ditzy had been very quick to mark off the charcoal pots on the desks which were reserved for the post office work, the twins had argued over whose turn it had been to go out and buy some more, Dinky had raided her supply tin (new envelopes to draw on, twelve bits worth of pocket money, a speck of fluff, and a candy wrapper), but it seemed that the whole building was otherwise devoid of things to draw with. In any other weather, Twilight would’ve suggested going back to the library; after all, she had plenty stored away for all her checklists. Not in the pouring rain. She was just about to give up and say never mind when Dinky pointed something out. “We didn’t look in Auntie Flutter’s desk drawer. She keeps spares in there.” Two loud gulps were issued from the direction of the twins. “Not a good idea, Dinks,” said Orange. “You know how grouchy she gets when we borrow her things.” “Grouchy and mean,” Cryo agreed. “I’m sure she won’t mind if we take just a couple of pieces.” Why would she? There certainly were a few in there; Twilight selected two that ought to last the foal long enough. “Now, how much do we think…?” Dinky beamed. “One million bits.” Uh. Um. “A million, huh?” Twilight laughed nervously. “W-well, I’m sure we can bring that down a bit…” She was terrible at haggling. Her attempts at haggling involved detailing the exchange rates, and that never worked. “Don’t you think that’s a little bit much, Muffin?” Ditzy asked, ruffling her daughter’s mane. “I don’t think Twilight has that much money.” Twilight would have retorted, but instead chose to word it differently. “Um, how about twenty bits and a promise to teach you the spell?” She didn’t have twenty bits on her, but that was easily sorted when she got back to the library… “Done and done!” Thought journal, bookmarked entry; April CE 1001; 4:12PM I had my doubts before I Shared the prophecy images with Dinky, but now… I managed to get her to Pinkie Promise not to tell anypony about what she drew, with the exception of Ditzy, who insisted on staying in the room, not that I mind, as long as she doesn’t go shouting it out either. Spike accused me of making this too easy for me to figure out, but I can’t stand how vague the prophecy text itself is. At the very least, it gives me something to work with so I know when parts of the prophecy are being fulfilled instead of guessing all the time. Okay. I have fourteen envelopes here; the charcoal lasted just long enough. Listing and analyzing them here for future reference before I forget the artist’s comments on them. ‘To look upon the rainbow band’: It’s just a big circle, though with a reflection crescent to the upper right, so I suppose it could be some sort of lens. Dinky indicated that it was moving. Is this ‘rainbow band’ only observable with a specific type of lens or glass? It’s certainly possible. Nopony could prove the existence of sea sprites until somepony looked through a telescope the wrong way. ‘The final pillar cannot stand’: A column, so this one’s very literal. Seems to be in the process of collapsing. There’s some sort of symbol on a band around it, but I can’t work out what it is and Dinky couldn’t either. ‘Friends around see shock indeed’: Dinky was very proud of this one, because Ditzy’s in it. Also me, Rarity, and Spike. No idea what we’re being shocked by or where we are when it happens. ‘She will sink into the deep’: There’s no nice way to put this, but it’s a pony underwater, and according to Dinky, not making any attempt to swim. Ditzy was very distressed by it, and I offered to stop but Dinky wanted to continue. ‘Help them as they flee their fate’: Rainbow Dash. She’s got her hooves above her head like she’s holding or supporting something, but no indication of what. No indication of who ‘they’ are either. But she’s the bearer of Loyalty, so it doesn’t surprise me that she’s assisting other ponies. ‘The Iris opens up the gate’: A spinning octagonal prism. Both Spike and I agree that we’ve seen it somewhere before, but we can’t remember where. Dinky liked working with the geometrical shape but otherwise had no comment. No gates anywhere in the image, though I suppose it could be metaphorical. But does it mean an iris as in the flower, or an iris as in the eye? Like the word ‘Hurricane’ in the second section, it’s capitalized, so maybe it refers something specifically called Iris or The Iris. Could it be some sort of title? ‘In teacher’s eyes, past truth’: Princess Celestia, and this one doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. She’s the first pony that comes to mind when I think of the word ‘teacher’. However, don’t know what this truth is or why it’s past; all the image can tell is that she looks surprised to see it. (This troubles me. I’ve only seen the Princess this surprised once, and that was when Discord was released.) ‘The symbol of magic will shatter’: No easy way to put this - my cutie mark covered with a fracture pattern. Dinky didn’t like it, and I don’t like the connotations. Symbol of magic because it’s the same shape as the Element of Magic, obviously, but I have to hope it doesn’t refer to me. This is slightly scary, but not as scary as the next one. ‘The city by power be battered’: Blank envelope. According to Dinky, it was just so bright she couldn’t see anything. I don’t need to say how much this worries me, if something that bright that produces or transmits power is in Canterlot or another Equestrian city. The presence of the word ‘battered’, aside from rhyming with ‘shatter’ in the previous line, indicates that whichever city it is it will receive some degree of damage. ‘Two will rise, one will fall’: A hot air balloon. Dinky says there’s a pony that looks like Applejack falling out of it but I really can’t tell. If there are two ponies in it, it would make sense, if the balloon went up with two and one falls out… I don’t want to think about what would happen to the pony falling out if that is the case. Spike says it looks like Cherry Berry’s balloon, but I disagree, I think it looks more like Pinkie’s party balloon. ‘Turn back to answer Hurricane’s call’: It looks like a bunch of scribbles, but I think it could be a seismometer or a thaumometer. Dinky doesn’t know what either of those are and has no idea of its context. Seems to show a large event, whichever graph it is. (Could an earthquake be part of the ‘by power be battered’? No natural earthquakes have been recorded in central Equestria for decades.) No sign at all of this hurricane that’s mentioned. (Could a hurricane generate this strong a tremor? You’d need a lot of pegasi to generate something that big, that’s for sure.) Capitalized, so a name, or a title. ‘Upon the surface last signs float’: It’s Applejack’s hat, or apparel similar, floating on water. Combined with the earlier underwater pony, and the balloon, I’ve got a bad feeling about this… ‘Importance lies in his last note’: A book. Though the drawing’s obviously in charcoal on an envelope, Dinky assures me that it’s blue. (Not that that really helps, there are dozens of blue books in the library.) Not sure where ‘his last’ comes into it, nor why it’s only described as a note. ‘This was the seventh hourglass’: An hourglass. I don’t know what I expected. I’ve tried putting the pieces together; I’m now convinced that each line and each image isn’t necessarily in chronological order. The sinking pony and the floating hat obviously go together, as do the blank image and the graph, or maybe the graph and then the column. I’ve got a gut feeling - one that’s terrifying - that the balloon comes before the two water-related images, and I really hope that doesn’t mean Applejack’s going to fall out of Pinkie’s balloon and land in the sea or something. Still… I tried teaching Dinky Share, and she made good progress, for her first attempt at learning it. She showed me a fuzzy and incomplete image of what I guess was Ditzy cooking. While I still feel uneasy about big classes, maybe I could have a go at one-on-one tutoring, for the stuff I’ve already passed with flying colors. I’ll talk to Princess Celestia about it when I next get the chance. …There’s not much more I can do without more data, and short of casting the spell again (which I’ve forbidden myself from doing), for the time being I can’t collect any more either. I suppose the next step will be following the Princess’s advice and attending the Hoofington Museum’s special exhibit on Da Colton when it reopens on Friday. I’ll see if my friends are interested in joining me; if I recall correctly, Pinkie Pie will still be in the town, staying with Mr Cake’s sister. I suppose it’ll depend on whether Applejack and Rarity have finished their work by then; not sure if Rainbow Dash or Fluttershy will be interested, but I’ll ask anyway. Wait, hold on, there was one more thing. During the incident with Ditzy at my door this morning, she pushed a letter into the library. Spike reminded me of it when I returned, but the only thing in the envelope was a blank piece of card. I don’t think it’s connected to the prophecy thing - it’s got a Trottingham postmark on it, so it must’ve been sent at least a few days ago, before any of this started. It’s still raining, so I’m going to catch up on some studying. I’m sure nothing more can happen today, at least. If all of these things are in my future, if I stay away from large bodies of water and any major cities, I can control to a degree when (if indeed they do at all) they come true. Hopefully. Maybe. Huh, I can smell… something’s burning. I think Spike’s just set fire to something. No dreams came to Twilight that night, so there was no chance of trying to make amends with the dream pony, whatever her name was. Again, she’d looked at da Colton’s workbook, and separately the blank card; still they yielded no more answers, and she’d set them down on the bedside table. No doubt about it, though. This was turning into what the town’s resident author Written Script had started calling an Adventure. She didn’t like the term, but admittedly she couldn’t come up with anything better. Most ponies stayed away when Adventures were in progress. (And though this was an exception, she did notice they very frequently occurred on Saturdays.) As she woke again and rolled over, trying to get comfortable, she pondered the drawings and the prophecy again. Perhaps, at the end of the Adventure, she’d be able to look back at the whole thing and wonder how she didn’t see stuff coming. Stuff was always more obvious in hindsight, as the events with Discord had proved rather harshly. Strangely, she was starting to draw parallels between the prophecy she’d created and the draconequus’s riddle. Twists and turns, the phrase which had led her to the hedge maze, had indeed been his master plan; when suggesting the maze, she’d completely skipped over the final step, and if she’d interpreted it first she’d have gone in a completely different direction. What would have happened then? They’d have gone straight back to Ponyville, found the Elements, and blasted Discord. That simple. Too simple. Discord had to have been counting on her misinterpreting his riddle. So what if the same thing was happening here? What if - and it was a crazy notion - the prophecy would resolve itself because she thought she could beat it? A howl of wind almost made her fall out of bed again. It shouldn’t have been that loud - and it definitely shouldn’t be that cold. Had Spike left a window open? Nothing seemed obvious from where she was… sighing, and with the chance of going back to sleep soon out the metaphorical window, she had nothing better to do than go downstairs and look… With a yawn, she pulled herself out of bed, located her fuzzy purple slippers, and trudged downstairs. It’d just be a window that hadn’t been fastened. Not like— She stopped midway down the stairs. The front door was open, letting the rain in, and there were hoofprints and books all over the floor. It took her less than a second to process. There’d been an intruder. “Spike!” Slamming the lights on with her magic, she jumped the rest of the way downstairs and dashed over to the door to look outside. No sign of anypony in the dark rain, and the muddy hoofprints disappeared into puddles. Whoever it was… they’d gotten away. Who would want to steal from a library?! The books weren’t worth that much! Sure, the unique ones, but they were still upstairs in places of protection. Only— oh no. Suddenly realizing, she ran back through the library, past Spike on the stairs, back to the upper deck of the top floor. Please, please, please… The cabinet next to the bed was almost undisturbed. Bedside lamp, glass of water, mane brush, blank card. Da Colton’s workbook was missing.