The door she held was rough and grainy. It needed polish badly. She pursed her lips, silently cataloging her resources. A pair of ladders. A table with a rough bust of a human head. A dusty desk and some long-since spent pens. A card catalog she didn't know how to use. A ledger with dusty pages and a rigid spine. She surveyed the walls. Farmers' almanacs. Albums and school yearbooks. Cookbooks. Traditional medicine. History, both local and abroad. She counted the books per row, then the rows per shelf, then the total number of shelves in the library. 1, 658 books total. And one sign she had yet to use.
She could do this. The building had been abandoned for a year and a half, the previous owner having passed away from old age. But she had cleared out an abandoned castle left to rot for decades. She could handle a dusty hollow tree. Sweeping would be first. She hauled open the broom closet and reached through the spider webs. She pulled back a broom, brushing cobwebs off her sleeve gingerly. The clouds of dust weren't good for her cloistered lungs, but she'd get used to it. She swept the broom back and forth. 26, 280 hours to go, starting now.
It had been a strange trial to sit through. Passionate pleas from both sides had started the trial. Officer Shining Armor had been found emotionally compromised, arguing for immediate release back to the family and no further repercussions. The officers focused on imprisonment had suggested 10 or even 20 years to start. Dark magic was a serious crime. So was assault of an officer, and resisting arrest. Unlicensed magic use was less serious, but had been more persistent. Twilight's hopes had sunk with every charge laid out. But the trial had not ended then and there. Celestia had been a blessing on both of the assault-related charges, arguing down the sentence from four years to four months by demonstrating that her injuries had not been severe and vouching that Twilight had been acting in what she believed to be self-defense.
Twilight's youth had been brought up, too. As had her lack of exposure to outside society, and lack of understanding of its laws. The dark magic, too, had been connected to coercion from the Nightmare. She had only followed through on its use, Celestia argued, because of her fear of the greater damage her uncontrolled magic could cause herself and others. This was sustained with testimony from Twilight herself and some of the locals of Ponyville. Lobbying from her parents and local charity Troubled Youths of Canterlot had been put forth. A character witness from Ponyville, Zecora, confirmed she had never seen Twilight mishandle dark magic and that she did not believe Twilight would do so. But still justice had to be served.
Discussion also went towards Twilight's untamed magic. It was clear that she was not safe to the public. Clear she couldn't be released into the world at large. She'd tried not to let her heart sink again at that news. But there was discussion she hadn't stopped to hear before. About the potential in her condition, about the study that needed to be done and the treatment that needed to be found, and, most important to her, about the humanity she needed to be treated with.
At last a verdict had been reached. Four months of magical containment in a secure facility for problem magic users, with regular training underseen by a professional of the field, followed by three years of paid community service to be agreed upon by an overseer (Celestia) and the town of Ponyville. She considered herself lucky. To Celestia, it was just a promise kept. To Twilight, it was her world.
Twilight finished sweeping the dust from the floor into the last of three perfect piles. Already it was looking less daunting. She swept the dust out the front door and away from the dirt road leading to the gigantic, hollowed oak tree. Her walk back to the closet was interrupted by a knock on the door. She pulled it open to reveal the Paladin, no longer dressed in full armor, but instead in a plain white shirt and light blue pants.
"I'm glad to see you made it safely."
"Please. I lived in the Everfree. One last walk over wouldn't kill me." Twilight rolled her eyes. But she had to stop a smile. "You were expecting me." You didn't think I'd run away again. The subtext hung between the two for but a moment.
Celestia smiled back. "One of the local miners wanted to meet you. I told her you needed a little time settling in."
"Meet me?" Twilight balked.
"She seemed very...enthusiastic. But she meant well. She wanted to throw you a welcome party." Twilight shuddered at the nightmare being laid out in her mind's eye. Celestia snapped her back. "Like I said, I think some time would help before we take a step like that."
"You could have dropped me after the trial, you know? There are officers in Ponyville who are quite capable." She ushered Celestia inside, working her way back to the closet.
Celestia smirked. "And that would be the professional thing to do. But I learned recently that professionalism is not the only mark of a good Paladin." Twilight stowed the broom and began searching around. Celestia shrugged. "The law is there to serve the citizens who follow it. And you are one of Ponyville's citizens now. It'd be a disservice to abandon you to the whims of a town you hardly know."
Twilight looked up, a washcloth now in hand. "But you could've. You didn't."
Celestia's pose shifted, her head tilting. "How is the Rune?"
Twilight glanced down at her neck, at the tiny chip embedded just above her collarbone. Another condition to her freedom. Part tracker and part restrainer. The culmination of her and instructor's hard work. She could feel it draining off her excess magic even now. "It itches. Still getting used to it." She absently grabbed at her hand and prevented it from scratching.
"I still don't think it was fair of them." Celestia's gaze followed Twilight's hand. "You're already doing enough for them."
Twilight brightened. "Are you kidding? This was for me. I can actually sleep at night now. The bed doesn't float. I can stub my toe without blasting the kitchen table. Walk down the street without turning people into teapots. I don't care if it turned me blue and made everything taste like stale bread." She set the washcloth down and rubbed her arm. "You really were right about them." She whispered the last bit. "And about me."
The discussion dropped for a moment, Twilight wrapping her arms about herself and Celestia looking on with a hand on one hip and a smile on her face. Twilight cut the silence with a question. "What about your sister?" Twilight's expression softened. Even with all the evil she'd done, Twilight wanted her to be safe. "How is she?"
Celestia's brow furrowed, and she pursed her lips. "My sister has been returned to custody. Her trial will begin in a few month's time. For her there isn't much I can do personally. Too close to the subject."
"Right." Twilight looked down.
"Besides. She's a danger to herself and others. The best I can hope is that she's kept away from the public, and that her time alone will give her time to reflect. Perhaps reach out."
"Gets the help she needs." Twilight stared into Celestia's eyes. There was something so very tired there. Something that no longer dared to hope, not on this topic. She decided to change the subject. "I checked up on Owlosyius recently."
"Owlosyius?" Celestia raised an eyebrow.
"The owl I met." Twilight shrugged one shoulder, trundling the washcloth over to the sink and turning on the faucet. "He needed a name." She finished off the table and moved on to the shelves, taking delicate care not to touch the paper with the rag. "He's nesting now. I know owls aren't strictly legal as pets, so I'm thinking I might get a cat. Keep the mice away from this place. But I hope the local shelter lets me check up on him from time to time."
Celestia put her finger to her chin. "I met one of the rescue workers once. Fluttershy, she's called. You'd have to ask her about all this. Just be sure keep her focused on the animal work. She's a very nervous person by nature, and the stories about you..." Celestia sighed. "You'll have to earn her trust."
Twilight grimaced. There was still that brittle sense around her fellow human beings. It wasn't perfect. She focused on toweling off the table and wiping away the dust. Celestia sensed the tension in her shoulders. The bitter furrow to her brow. She put a hand on Twilight's shoulder. "But you don't have to do it alone." That relaxed her tense charge.
"No...I don't." Twilight thought of her parents. Of her mother shaking, embracing her, sobbing into her shoulder. Of her older brother trying and failing to stop crying in front of her and his father, of her father trying to be strong for the family, swallowing on the frog in his own throat. She thought of Zecora, of her owl and her instructor. She looked over at Celestia and smiled.
／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼
Twilight wiped her sweaty brow and glanced up at the clock. Only 26, 278 hours to go. The entire oak was cleaned up. The books were all stowed away carefully in their proper places, their shelves gleaming in the light of the overhead lamps. The desk was clear and ready, the ledger open to a blank page. The entire place clear of dust and cobwebs. It was almost perfect. Celestia stood up. "If you need any help with this..."
"No. I have to do this myself." She cracked a thin smirk. "The law demands it, right?"
"I meant support. I will be here." She stood beside Twilight, her stance proud and sturdy. "Law or not."
Twilight slipped away, grabbing the sign from its place on the table, walking towards the entrance. She looked back at Celestia, who continued to stand firm. For the first time in her life, she flashed a hopeful smile. "You've already done plenty." Twilight opened the door and walked through the archway, out into the sun. Villagers moved around and through the center of town. Farmers pushing carts of apples. Children racing through the streets on scooters and wagons. A town guard here, a doctor there. And there a seamstress with a load of fabrics for her store. The sun shone on her face. The skies were bright and open.
She walked forward, the text above her head proudly displaying the words 'Golden Oaks Library'.With Celestia watching her way, she hung the sign over a nail on the side of the tree, looking out on the town she was now a true part of. The sign swung merrily in the breeze. "Open", it read.