//------------------------------// // 6 - Veridical Dissonance // Story: Lessons in Chaos // by TobiasDrake //------------------------------// “Are you sure?” Twilight asked hesitantly. She stood with Fluttershy in her friend’s living room, facing the coffee table in the center of the room. The evening sun had reached the horizon, casting an orange glow through the windows that seemed to color and distort the room. Much to her dismay, Applejack was already gone when Twilight’s friends had told her she was clear to come upstairs. Rainbow Dash had left a short time after, announcing an intent to go find their errant friend. The rest of her friends surrounded her; Rarity and Pinkie sat to Twilight’s left, near enough to show support without crowding Fluttershy. Spike clicked his claws together nervously, watching the events unfold. The stone core sat in its chest on the table, continuing its rhythmic pulsing. Beside it rested a strange, fragmented crystal that seemed to warp and shift in ways that hurt Twilight’s head to try and think about. It never seemed to move, and yet it looked different from second to second. The others had been strangely noncommittal about what it was and where it came from. “Just try it,” Fluttershy urged her. “I know it might seem scary now, but we’re here for you.” “Plus if it works, you’ll have cool stony powers!” Pinkie Pie added. “I mean, it probably won’t make up for losing all of the spells that you’ve spent your whole life trying to master and becoming an outcast to your friends and family and wondering, day in and day out, whether your life even has any meaning without--” “PINKIE PIE!” Rarity chastised. Pinkie smiled chipperly, tapping Twilight’s sides with her hooves. “But there’ll be cool stony powers.” Twilight’s jaw hung open, searching for words to respond to Pinkie Pie’s insinuation. Rarity sighed. “Don’t mind her, darling. Let’s just take this one step at a time.” Fluttershy put a comforting hoof against Twilight’s shoulder. “We’ll figure everything out,” she assured her friend. “Rarity’s right. Let’s start here and we’ll see what happens.” Twilight took a deep breath. She centered herself and locked her gaze on the pulsing stone. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do; she’d never done anything like this before. It wasn’t like casting one of her spells; it was something more primal, something connected at her very center, that she needed to find. This wasn’t something she could process intellectually; she knew that it had to be felt, in much the same way that she felt her connection with all of her friends. Twilight closed her eyes to center herself. If what the others were saying was true, then there would be some kind of instinctual connection. She remembered the feeling of gaining her wings for the first time; moving them required the flexing of a muscle she’d never had before. It had taken her weeks to get them under control and learn this new form of motion, and even after all of that practice, she still struggled sometimes. At least hypothetically, this would be just like that. It wasn’t a spell but a muscle, something that she could naturally control. She reached out with her mind, trying to feel the soft velvet inside the chest. With a mental gesture, she willed the stone to rise, and the stone answered. It lifted from its resting place, levitating a foot into the air. In the end, it was easier than she’d anticipated. The stone responded to her conscious will without any of the difficulty she’d faced with her wings. She chose for it to move towards her and it did, floating in her direction until it came to a stop less than a foot in front of her. She turned it over in her mind and watched as it followed suit. Then, in an instant, she chose for it to vanish. It instantly flashed out of sight; still present in the room, but enveloped in an illusion to keep it from being seen. “So it’s true, then,” Twilight said. “Everything you’ve told me is right. I’m not the real Twilight Sparkle.” Without a word, Fluttershy stepped wrapped a single hoof gently around Twilight’s neck, embracing her. Rarity stepped forward. “This must be difficult,” she said gently. “I’m so--” “This is FASCINATING!” Twilight erupted. “Spike, take notes. We’ve made an amazing breakthrough!” “You’re not upset?” Fluttershy asked. “I am!” Twilight announced exuberantly. With a huge smile emblazoned on her face, she dictated, “I’m scared about what’s going to happen to me in the future. My heart is still aching from what happened with Applejack and now that I understand why she’s so upset, I’m not even sure if she’ll ever speak to me again!” She reared up, grasping with her hooves at the sides of Fluttershy’s neck. “Do you understand what that means?!” “That you express heartbreak very differently from the rest of us?” “To clarify: no, she doesn’t,” Rarity said quickly. “It means that I feel, Fluttershy. The enchantment that created my intelligence is complex enough to give me emotions. It’s…Spike, why aren’t you taking notes?” She looked suddenly to the dragon, who simply stared back at her, empty claws outstretched. “With what?” Spike asked “With….” Twilight blinked. Sheepishly, she turned to her friend. “Fluttershy, would you happen to have a quill and parchment that we could borrow?” “Will paper and a pencil work?” “It’ll do.” Fluttershy hurried to set Spike up with his note-taking equipment while Twilight continued. “This has been bothering me ever since we defeated Cardinal. We knew he was intelligent, but I’ve suspected for a while now that there might be more than that. I hypothesized that he had an emotional range as well.” “He did seem rather driven to capture us,” Rarity said. “Yes, but it’s more than that. He seemed angry when we fought him. By itself, that wouldn’t mean much; we had him cornered and he knew it. The anger could have just been a fabricated contingency response. But after I cast my counterspell, he apologized to me. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but after everything settled down, it started to stick in my mind. Why apologize? What rational purpose could that have served?” “Do you think he felt bad for hurting you?” Fluttershy asked. “Maybe!” Twilight beamed. “If we assume his emotional capacity was the same as mine, then we can confirm that he was capable of being emotionally compromised. There isn’t just an intelligence here; there’s cognition. I’m capable of feeling and learning. I mean, I can’t 100% be certain that the magic sustaining me isn’t just making me think I’m conscious, but I feel conscious. At the very least, I don’t feel any different than I did as an alicorn." Twilight began to pace, considering the ramifications. She held a hoof up suddenly, slowly raising and lowering it while following it with her eyes. “How am I seeing?” she wondered aloud. “I mean, I can’t imagine I’m using my eyes to see, since I’m reasonably sure I don’t actually have eyes.” “Of course you have eyes, silly!” Pinkie Pie corrected, jamming her hoof right in front of Twilight’s face. “They’re right there!” Twilight backed away from her friend. “Only sort of,” she replied. “If what we understand about Tom’s magic is correct, then my entire body is an image. You can see eyes on my face, but those aren’t actual eyes. They don’t process information and transmit it to my brain; if my suspicions are correct, I don’t even have a brain. I have this.” She extended her foreleg and the stone appeared once more, levitating just an inch over her hoof. “There must be more to it than that,” Rarity said. “Otherwise, how would we be able to touch you?” “That’s a good point. There must be some kind of magical barrier to make me tangible.” She perked up suddenly. “I wonder if I have pain receptors?” She held out her foreleg, looking from Pinkie to Rarity. “This might sound like a weird request, but could somepony slap me? I need to understand the extent of my ability to feel.” “I supposed I could try,” Rarity offered. She stepped closer to Twilight and raised a single hoof. She hesitated a moment, looking to Twilight for confirmation. At Twilight’s nod, Rarity lightly jabbed at her friend’s outstretched leg. “You’ll need to hit me harder than that,” Twilight said dryly. “I’m sorry. Let me try again.” Rarity put slightly more force into her second try, tapping Twilight’s leg with enough force to knock over a teacup. Twilight shook her head. “That’s still not helping. I’m not sure I’d be able to feel that even if I wasn’t an illusion.” “I’m just worried about hurting you,” Rarity said. “I appreciate that, but hurting me is actually the point of this so if you could please--” Rarity cut off Twilight, rearing back with her foreleg and slamming it forcefully through Twilight’s. As Rarity struck, Twilight’s foreleg exploded into triangular shards of light. The shards scattered across the room, colliding harmlessly against the floor and furniture before fading out of existence. “Oh, my!” Fluttershy gasped. “Are you okay?!” Calmly, Twilight answered, “I’m fine.” She held up the jagged stump of her foreleg, examining it. The leg had broken off just below the shoulder, leaving a fractured ring around it. The wound was jagged and uneven, and yet each cut seemed pristine; a series of curveless lines and sharp angles made up the ring around where her leg used to be. “Well, that answers the question about pain receptors.” Rarity gasped. “I’m so sorry, darling.” “Don’t be; this was my idea,” Twilight insisted. “Spike, write down the word “FRAGILE” in all capital letters. Then circle it. Twice.” “On it!” Spike answered. “How come it’s not all gooky?” Pinkie Pie asked, coming over to get a look at Twilight’s fracture. “Why would it be?” Twilight asked. “I don’t have biology. There’s nothing to gook.” She pondered for a second, then looked to her friends. “…okay, so this might sound like a weird question but could one of you take a look inside my stump? It’s for science.” “Oh, my darling, thank Celestia you’re alright!” Twilight had barely had the chance to step off the carriage when Rarity leapt upon her. Before she knew it, she was being half-embraced and half-dragged across the courtyard, squeezed in the tight embrace of another pony’s lover. “Rarity!” Twilight gasped out, trying to pull herself away. Before she could say anything further, however, she felt the crushing embrace of another set of hooves enveloping the both of them. Shining Armor pulled Twilight and Rarity into a crushing embrace. “Are you okay, Twily?” he asked, pressing her face deeper into Rarity’s shoulder. “What happened out there? Did they hurt you?” So this was how it ends: far away from anything familiar, choked to death in an ocean of white. Finally, the pressure abated and Twilight found she could breathe again. “Oh, whatever were you thinking, facing those ruffians alone?” Rarity demanded. “I….” Twilight tried to answer, but her mind flashed back on Spitfire. She remembered the sight of Rainbow Dash streaking towards the carriage. Before she even knew what was happening, Spitfire had taken that hit for her. They had been talking like friends and colleagues and then, in the span of a second, Spitfire was gone. “That’s just like you, Twily,” Shining Armor said. Twilight caught a hint of sadness in his voice when he spoke. He’d turned away, not looking quite at her. “It is?” she asked. Rarity stopped, placing a hoof against Twilight’s cheek. “Darling, if I’ve told you once, I have told you a thousand times, you simply cannot thwart every evil in Equestria by yourself. I adore you for trying, but it’s just not possible, especially in your condition. What if something were to happen to you?” “Something did happen,” Twilight admitted, looking back at the carriage. In her mind’s eye, she could see those colors streaking across the sky again, roaring by just over her head. She’d always thought that the Sonic Rainboom was a cool trick; she’d never considered how dangerous it could be. “Tell us,” Rarity said gently. Twilight nodded slowly. “It happened so fast. Before I even knew what was happening, Rainbow Dash was coming at us.” “Of course it was Rainbow Dash,” Rarity said, voice dripping with contempt. Twilight closed her eyes. Even knowing it was all an illusion, she couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt for what happened. It felt real enough. “Spitfire put herself in harm’s way to protect the carriage, to…to protect me. She could be hurt. How did this happen?!” Rarity scoffed. “It happened because Rainbow Dash is a--” Twilight pressed a hoof to her shoulder, looking her in the eyes. “No, this whole thing. We’re at war with other ponies. How could that happen?” “Don’t be so dramatic, darling. I know you’re worried about Spitfire; I am too, but we must keep our heads. All of Equestria is looking to us to lead the way. We can’t….” Rarity hesitated and for a moment, Twilight thought she could see a glimpse of vulnerability in her eyes. Then Rarity blinked and it was gone, replaced by a steely gaze. Shining Armor finished her thought for her. “It’s like you always say, sis. We can’t afford to doubt ourselves; not when we represent all that’s left. We’re Princess Celestia’s legacy. We have to be more than that.” “I say that?” Twilight asked, raising an eyebrow. “Besides,” Shining Armor continued, “Those ponies have no idea what they’re talking about. The militia’s barely a fraction of what the Shield of Harmony once boasted. This isn’t a war, it’s an insurgency; once it’s been dealt with, our ponies can get back to rebuilding.” “The Shield of Harmony,” Twilight repeated, following the others into the castle. Rarity laughed. “I know, it’s such a dreadful name. Honestly, I always found it to be so tacky, but Applejack insisted upon it.” “Oh, uh, it really is,” Twilight agreed quickly. Internally, she thought the name sounded cool; it really drove home the idea of deriving strength from the companionship and camaraderie between ponies. She thought again of what she’d seen on her way out of Ponyville; Applejack flitting from one cart to another, helping ponies retreat from the Wonderbolt attack. Perhaps it was a little corny, but in that moment, she’d felt closer to home than she’d been since she arrived in this place. It was a good name. Strange to hear it applied to a gang of outlaws, though. Harmony, at least as Twilight understood it, was a state that could only be achieved by ponies coming together and working with one another for the common good. It was fundamentally irreconcilable with criminal and renegade behavior. Once more, Spitfire floated back into her mind. Twilight hated not knowing if she was okay. There was nothing harmonious in what happened to-- “Are you alright, dearest?” Rarity asked, sidling up to Twilight. “Tell us what happened,” Shining Armor said. “We’re here for you, Twily.” Once more, Applejack found herself standing before the throne belonging to the greatest power in all of Equestria. The red carpet was beginning to feel strangely familiar under her hooves; she wasn’t sure how she felt about that anymore. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” Princess Celestia said from the majestic rise of her golden throne. “Of course, your highness,” Applejack said, bowing respectfully. “I’ll be honest, I ain’t got the foggiest idea where to get started, but whatever I can do to help find her, you just say the word. I’m ready to go through hay or high water if it means bringin’ her back safe and sound.” “I appreciate that, Applejack,” the Princess said, rising from her throne. She descended the ramp, seeming to glide with each step of her golden shoes. “I am certain she will as well. However, I’m afraid that there is little at this time that you can do.” “There must be somethin’,” Applejack argued. “I’ll trek to the far ends of Equestria if’n I gotta. I’ll--” “Applejack,” Princess Celestia said sternly, standing before Applejack. The farm pony quieted down at the sound of her sovereign voice. “I understand how you feel, but you must temper yourself. There is nothing you can do at this time. Please do not make this worse while we are trying to solve it.” “It’s Twilight,” Applejack pleaded. “I am aware.” The Princess’s voice never rose, but Applejack could feel the statement resonate through her being. It cut straight to her heart, opening her mind and allowing her to see the concern printed on Princess Celestia’s face. Applejack could feel the fear that the Princess worked diligently not to show in her eyes. She saw her own worry and doubt reflected in the monarch. In that moment, she realized, she and the Princess were kin, united by their concern for the safety and wellbeing of Twilight Sparkle. They both loved Twilight in their own ways. Though she didn’t show it outwardly, the Princess could only be feeling the same terror that had burrowed into Applejack’s heart. “I’m sorry, your….” Applejack stopped. She knew the right thing to say, but it didn’t feel right. She’d been here before; she knew that this wasn’t a time for pomp and ceremony. It was a time to be with kin who shared your fears and knew your pain. “You’re right,” she said, clearing her throat. “I’m sorry, Celestia.” Celestia flashed a small smile, accepting her apology with a small nod of her head. “I wish I had more to offer you, but for now, this matter is out of your hooves. I’m afraid there’s only one in all of Equestria who understands the kind of magic Twilight was trying to work with.” “You don’t mean--” “Ooh hoo hoo, my ears are burning!” Discord’s voice filled the throne room. To Applejack’s right, a large blue stained glass window stood, depicting the sun shining down on the world. Beside it floated Saturn and, as Applejack watched, the ring uncoiled itself into a serpentine figure she knew well enough. “Oh, who could this handsome gentledraconequus be, I wonder?” “Hello, Discord,” Celestia said pleasantly as Discord slithered out from the pattern. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance once more, my lady,” Discord said, adding a lavish bow to the monarch. “And Applejack! Why, it’s so good to see two of my favorite princesses together in one place.” Applejack scowled at the word, but if Discord noticed, he gave no indication. “All due respect, gettin’ anythin’ useful out of Discord’s gonna be like pullin’ teeth, ‘ceptin’ teeth don’t hurt near as much.” “Hmph.” Discord looked to Celestia. “Do you see what I have to put up with? The way everypony acts, one would think I had something to do with Twilight’s disappearance. I’ll have you know that when she went missing, I was in the middle of a very vigorous brushing of my teeth. Here, I have a witness!” Discord snapped his fingers, conjuring up a small, red toothbrush that levitated in midair. The brush squirmed, recoiling in horror from the group. Just under the bristles, a mouth spoke, saying only, “I have seen things….” Discord promptly dismissed it. “There. You see? I am innocent of any wrongdoing!” Applejack narrowed her eyes. “…fine, well, I’m innocent of this very specific wrongdoing, anyway.” Ignoring Discord’s bluster, Celestia approached him. “I believe you,” she said diplomatically. “However, the terms of our arrangement were that you’re to use your magic for good. Here, we have an opportunity to make good on that bargain. Twilight Sparkle has gone missing as the result of an experiment with chaos magic. There is nopony in Equestria who understands this force like you do, Discord.” Discord smiled. “That’s certainly true, but it’s not going to be of much good in this case.” Discord held up his clawed hand. In a flash, a purple alicorn figurine appeared, hovering over it. He explained, “Twilight has taken a plunge into infinity itself.” Removing his claw, the figurine fell. A black vortex appeared in its path, swallowing it in its descent. “There are literally infinite possibilities for where she could be. Finding her is simply impossible.” Celestia’s face sank at the news. “There’s truly nothing you can do?” “There’s nothing anypony can do,” Discord insisted. “She’s not coming back, short of finding her own way.” Applejack felt her heart fall out from her. More and more, the truth was revealing itself exactly as she’d feared. Because she’d allowed herself to be selfish, because she’d indulged when she knew she shouldn’t, Twilight was gone forever. The reality of her situation stung deep. This, she knew, was entirely her fault. Well, no, not entirely. Applejack felt her temper beginning to flare up. She found solace in the rage kindling in her muscles. The overwhelming steamroller of anger lent her solace, shielding her from the pain in her heart. She turned on Discord, muscles tensing. “She wouldn’t have been--” Celestia raised a single hoof in front of Applejack, urging her to silence. A sideways glance from the Princess and a comforting smile was all she needed for her anger to die back down, replaced by fear and trepidation for Twilight’s fate. “I see,” Celestia said gently. “Then there truly is nothing we can do. From what you’ve described, I understand that it would take a monumental intellect to find Twilight now. Regrettably, we can only make do with what we have. Thank you for your time, Discord.” With a graceful sweep of her rainbow tail, Princess Celestia turned back to her throne. It took her only two steps before Discord swooped around in front of her. “What do you mean by that?!” he demanded. “Is something the matter?” “Do you mean to imply that I, Discord, the Master of Chaos, am not a monumental intellect?!” “Of course not.” Celestia smiled. “You are quite intelligent, Discord. That this problem’s more than you can handle is nothing to be ashamed of.” Discord scowled. “I’ll have you know, I could ‘handle’ it ten times over!” “But you just said--” “I know what I said! But what I’m saying now is that I’ll have Twilight right here, blathering on about the history of Lord Who Cares from Encyclopedia Obnoxiousness before you even have a chance to miss her!” Celestia’s face lit up at Discord’s proclamation. “What wonderful news! Be sure to keep me apprised of everything you uncover, and let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” “I’d best be off then!” Discord shouted aggressively. “Lots to do!” “Have a good day.” Discord replied by blowing a raspberry at Applejack before vanishing in a flash of light. Applejack stared at the space where Discord had disappeared. She looked to the Princess, then back to where he’d stood. “What just happened? Is Discord gonna help us now?” “That remains to be seen, but it’s a start.” Celestia turned to Applejack. “But for now, we can only wait and see what comes. It would be best for you to return to Ponyville.” “But I want to help,” Applejack argued. “Whatever can be done to find Twilight, I want to lend a hoof.” “I know you do, but there is simply nothing you can do. I understand this may be hard to hear, but Twilight’s fate is out of your hooves now. Your energy would better be spent helping your friends with their new project.” “But that ain’t where I want to be,” Applejack argued. “I know it’s not. But where you want to be is not always where you’re needed most.” “And that’s how I wound up back here,” Twilight concluded. She sat on a velvet cushion sewn into a crystal chair. One hoof rest upon the long table before her, crafted out of the same blue crystal. The dining hall had offered a good place to rest and tell what had happened, though she’d been careful to leave certain details out, especially pertaining to the strange flashes she kept having. “It sounds like you’ve been through a lot,” Shining Armor said. Rarity stood at Twilight’s side, one hoof on her shoulder. She hadn’t moved from this position since Twilight had taken her seat to tell the story. “It sounds like you gave that dreadful Lyra quite a licking,” she said proudly. “You should be—oh! Sweetie Belle!” Rarity called out to her sister as the little filly passed in front of the door to the main corridor. Sweetie Belle stopped in her tracks. “Come over here and greet your sister-in-law properly. She’s had a very harrowing experience and could use a bit of affection from her family.” Sweetie Belle blinked, remaining rooted where she stood. “Twilight almost got hurt?” she asked. “Terribly. Oh, it was dreadful.” “But she made it back,” Sweetie Belle said bluntly. “Why, yes, of course she did. She’s standing right here.” “Hmm. Pity.” Without another word, Sweetie Belle resumed course towards a far door. Rarity gasped. “Sweetie Belle!” Rarity raced to the door, calling out, “You come back here and apologize this instant!” Seconds passed without so much as a verbal response from Sweetie Belle. Rarity stood, trembling with rage and staring expectantly out before finally giving out a huff and turning to look back at Twilight. “I am dreadfully sorry about that, my sweet. She has been in such a ghastly mood.” “She’s still mad about her friends,” Shining Armor explained. Wait, Sweetie Belle was holding a grudge about Apple Bloom and Scootaloo? Twilight remembered the pink ribbon tied around Applejack’s hat. There had to be a connection, but Twilight would need to be careful how she replied. “She thinks that’s my fault?” she answered cautiously. “I….” Rarity hesitated. Once again, Twilight could see that uncertainty in her eyes. “N…no, sweetheart, of course not,” Rarity said, but her words were less than convincing. But after another second, it was gone, replaced by a wide smile to cover up the vulnerability in her eyes. “I’m sorry, it would seem I’m quite a mess today,” she said, excusing herself. Twilight reached out, urging Rarity to return to the table. “Rarity, talk to me. It’s okay.” Rarity shook her head. “No, no, it’s quite alright.” When she looked up to Twilight, those hints of sadness and trepidation had vanished from her eyes, replaced by a gentle loyalty that slowly melted into the rest of her face. “You did what you had to,” she said simply. “You can’t be responsible for their behavior, and I’m positive she knows that. I mean, it really shouldn’t be a surprise that Apple Bloom would turn out to be such a troublemaker, given who her sister is. And Scootaloo, well, she’s always admired Rainbow Dash.” Rarity sighed. “It was inevitable that something would happen,” she said, approaching Twilight. “You can’t be responsible for the choices they made.” “I…guess not,” Twilight said tentatively. There was more here; there had to be. But Twilight wasn’t sure she’d be able to get anything more out of Rarity without giving away her ignorance. “You two should catch up,” Shining Armor said, rising from the table. “I’m going to head upstairs and brief Pinkie Pie on her talking points about today’s incident.” Twilight’s head jerked up. Pinkie Pie’s broadcasts came from here in the castle? That seemed unusual. The Equestria she knew didn’t have these magic stone messages and relied on regular newspapers to distribute the news, and each of those was its own separate entity. Having a source of news directly in the castle seemed…brilliant, really. She’d never thought much of it before, but having ponies right there in the palace to record and distribute current events to the rest of Equestria seemed both convenient and efficient. She made a mental note to try and find out what effect made these broadcasts possible; if it was a real spell, then Pinkie Pie wouldn’t be able to cast it herself, so there had to be a unicorn or two in the palace casting it. If she could learn the spell, she’d be sure to propose this idea to Celestia upon returning home. More than that, however, this presented an opportunity. If Twilight Sparkle was anything like Twilight Sparkle, then she’d keep extensive records of events that had transpired, especially something as major as this war or insurrection or whatever it was. Finding those records was going to present a challenge in an unfamiliar version of the Crystal Palace, but if Pinkie Pie worked directly with the Acting Princess, then she might have copies. “Hey!” Twilight shouted, trotting to catch up with Shining Armor, putting on her best fake smile. “So, I’m feeling fired up to, uh, to neutralize some insurgents. I was thinking it might help if I got my hooves on some reports? Maybe pertaining to recent events? Just to go over, I mean. I want to try and get a clear view of the big picture. That might help me predict what Applejack’s going to do next.” Shining Armor stopped, waiting for Twilight to catch up. “If you can make sense of Pinkie Pie’s filing system, that would be your best option. She keeps every file we hand off to her.” “Perfect,” Twilight said with a grin. “If it’s just an organizing problem, then I’m sure I can handle this.” “I can’t handle this!” Twilight threw up her hooves in frustration. Stacks upon stacks of binders, folders, and miscellaneous papers lay spread out across the crystal table before her. The wall behind her was covered from one end to the other with filing cabinets in varying states of disarray. For three hours, she’d combed over one report after another, but each needed to be referenced and cross-referenced with another report utilizing a bizarre numerical system. At first, Twilight had thought that the numbers might represent dates or times, but that had failed to provide results. She’d tried using the numbers as a cipher, standing in for letters of the alphabet, but that wouldn’t explain why a profile on Fancy Pant’s favorite eating habits would be found adjacent to whatever “Sweet Apple Incident” was supposed to mean. “You could always ask for help.” Twilight rolled her eyes before returning her focus to the report on the table. “I was wondering when I’d hear from you again. As long as you’re here, do you know anything about the Changeling War? I’ve seen several references to it, but so far there’s nothing that talks directly about it.” “Nothing? You’d think there’d be at least some record.” Twilight shook her head. “I’m not surprised. These look to be situation reports and personality profiles. They aren’t meant to be educational and with an event as major as a war, they wouldn’t need to have a comprehensive explanation of it unless the reports were actually about the war. I have found some skirmish details with Applejack’s militia; Shining Armor called them the Shield of Harmony, but I don’t see that name anywhere in here; they’re just called ‘the militia’ over and over.” “How very curious.” “Needlessly so. Making Spike and Applejack evil was a nice touch. I’ll give you that. But did you have to make it all so convoluted? There’s so much going on in this illusion that it can be hard to keep track of it all.” She looked up from the table, casting her gaze to the expressionless ceiling. “That first one was pretty straightforward. We were in Ponyville and we were happy. Done. Maybe it was too simple, but it got the job done. But this one’s just too complicated. I don’t see the point of half of the choices you made here.” “Is that so? And what makes you think there’s a point?” The voice asked curiously. “The fact that it’s a trap,” Twilight said, as though it were the most obvious thing. “You got me. Good for you. Of course, my friends are probably working on finding a way to set me free right now so this is more of an exercise in curiosity than anything else.” “You really are intent on saying this is my fault, aren’t you? You have no idea what’s going on.” “Okay,” Twilight answered calmly, returning to her report. “Don’t ‘okay’ me! Do you have any idea how much work I had to put into following you here?! Why, I skipped afternoon tea!” “If you’re just going to be vague and cryptic, then I’m going back to my reading.” “Hmph. Have it your way, then. Perhaps it’s time we met face to face.” Twilight perked up. Finally, she was getting somewhere. “And how do we go about doing that?” “Follow the threads in the tapestry of--” “Nope.” Twilight returned to reading. “Oh, fine!” Twilight heard the voice give out an angry huff. “I’m beyond the edge of reality. I’m sitting in my living room drinking Herbal Grey out of a goldfish. Good luck!” Twilight looked up, raising an eyebrow. “That can’t be right. How would I even reach you?” “Oh, do you hear that? It sounds like not my problem. It’s too bad you couldn’t have a riddle to solve or something. Oh well! Toodles!” “Wait, come back!” Twilight called out, leaping to her hooves. Silence filled the room, permeating the air around her. She’d been so close to an answer; she couldn’t let it slip through her-- “Oh, fine, you twisted my arm!” Never mind. There he was again. He paused as though waiting for a response. “Twisted my arm!” “Um….” “Twisted my…oh, never mind. If you could see what I was doing right now, your sides would be splitting with laughter!” The voice took a moment to laugh at its own joke. After a few seconds, it seemed to notice that Twilight hadn’t gotten whatever was supposed to be funny about it and gave another huff. “Hurry up and get here before I waste all of my best material. You’ve already seen through the veil of possibility. It’s up to you to take the next step.” “How do I do that?” Twilight asked, but the voice had faded once again. “Hey!” she called out, but to no avail. This time, it seemed to truly be gone. Twilight sighed; this whole endeavor continued to become more and more complicated. She wondered what had been going through her head when she’d thought this was a good idea in the first place. Applejack stood, hooves planted firmly in the mud. The orange hairs of her face were stained with tears, which soaked into the ground beneath her. “This is all I am, Twilight,” she said desperately. “I was born right here in the muck and I’m gonna die right here in the muck.” Nope! Twilight did not have the emotional capacity to deal with that right now. Pushing it to the back of her mind, she tried to focus on what the voice had said. She had seen through the veil of possibility. Her immediate thought was of her bizarre plunge through impossible shapes and colors that had brought her here in the first place, but that hadn’t been all, had it? Since her arrival, she’d been having strange flashes. Her mind had been occupied by visions of herself. These strange other Twilights she witnessed were leading different lives, doing things that she couldn’t imagine. She remembered something about a war with the dragons and a marriage proposal from Flash Sentry? They only lasted a few minutes, but each time, she returned as though hours had gone by. Was that the veil of possibility the voice was referring to? Twilight pushed aside the reports and documents on the table. This was a lead she needed to follow up on, but she barely knew where to begin. She looked down at the crystal composing the table; this place was another strange world with another strange Twilight. The face staring back at her was scarred and burned across half of her face. Her left eye only barely functioned. There was also something about her horn that she hadn’t noticed before, but she couldn’t quite make it out. This was wrong. She didn’t belong here. She was as much a stranger to this place as to those other places she’d seen. Nothing about this pastiche of reality made any sense, and when she tried to think about it, the splitting headaches from before would try to surface. She recognized them now for what they were and tried to keep them from her mind; those were the voice’s glimpses of possibility. None of this was real, she reminded herself again. Not the palace nor her brother nor whatever the Changeling War was supposed to be. Not the Shield of Harmony. Not…not the sacrifice that Spitfire made for Twilight. But they felt real. They touched her heart and her mind in ways she couldn’t easily deny. They meant something at the very least, and she’d already begun to make memories that couldn’t easily be let go. Could there be meaning even in a false reality like this? Twilight thought again of the other realities she’d seen. She remembered the abstract geometries and impossible colors of the space outside, and she felt the splitting headache resurfacing. The voice had said that he was waiting for her beyond the edge of reality. She tried to focus her mind on the pain, to open herself to the migraine and allow it to take her-- “ALICORN PARTY!!!” Pinkie Pie screamed. She swung from the barn’s rafters, suspended by a rope and wearing a party hat and a set of cardboard wings. “Congratulations, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said with a smile. “I still can’t believe you became an alicorn! I didn’t even know that was possible.” Rainbow Dash laughed from her place in the air, raising her horn high. “Yeah, I still don’t know exactly how this works either. I guess my Triple Rainboom was just that awesome!” “Yes, darling, we are all--” With a great cry of effort, Twilight wrenched herself free. She felt her body pull away, tugging in a direction she couldn’t perceive. Her eyes flooded with endless shapes and structures once more. Her mind screamed to make sense of anything and before she knew it, she could feel herself plummeting through the infinite once more. But this time Twilight spread her wings and opened her mind. She didn’t try to make sense of what she was seeing, only to move within it, to let herself become a part of the endless tide. Eternity opened its maw and welcomed her, allowing her to glide gently down on her wings to a sphere below her. She floated, flapping her wings as she looked through the lens of possibility. She saw herself, the Twilight she had left behind, passed out on the crystal table atop a mountain of paperwork. She looked up and around, and through the swirling pinks, oranges, and other colors she couldn’t describe, she could see other spheres in the distance. She reached down for the surface of the world below her. It was like peering through a snowglobe. As she touched it, she felt a rush try to pull her down into it. Instinctively, she jerked her hoof away, flapping for height and staying in the tumultuous space beyond the edge of space. Getting in a couple more flaps, Twilight began to circle the sphere. The voice had said he’d be here somewhere, and after the headache she’d suffered-- Oh! Twilight realized suddenly that the migraine was gone. Out here, her head felt fine as long as she didn’t try to focus for too long on the shapes around her. She flew around the orb, but it never changed perspective; the orb looked the same from every direction, and Twilight quickly lost track of the ability to tell which way she’d even been going. Gravity behaved strangely here, allowing her to turn upside-down with ease. “There you are.” The voice beckoned in her mind, pulling her sideways in a direction she couldn’t define. She closed her eyes and embraced its pull, allowing herself to be moved along. She felt her hooves click against wood beneath her and inhaled fresh air. Both of her eyes opened with ease, and her wings returned to her sides where they rested. She looked up and finally saw the origin of the voice that had followed her since her descent. “SURPRISE!!!” he announced from his ponylike mouth, a single large fang sticking out from his upper lip. The talon of his left hand and the soft paw of his right were thrown up in the air, prompting confetti to explode outwards from the corners of the room. “It’s me! Discord! The Master of Chaos!” “Right,” Twilight said simply, looking around the room. A circular white coffee table sat in the middle of the room with a hole through the center of it. A purple and orange sofa sat behind it, just in front of an upside-down stairs built into one side of the ceiling. “Anyways, are you going to tell me what’s going on now?” Discord slithered through the air, sliding into her vision. “Whoa, hold on, now! That’s it? No gasps of surprise or shocked exclamations? No astonishment?” Twilight looked Discord in the eyes and asked, “Who else would it be?” “Hmph.” Discord rose to a standing position, rubbing his beard in aggravation. “Well, you could at least pretend to be surprised.” Twilight glanced to her left. “Is that a second set of stairs that doesn’t lead anywhere?” “Of course not,” Discord chided her. “Don’t be absurd!” With a flash of light, he teleported to the staircase, holding out his arms to present them to her. “They lead nowhere!” “Why would you need two?” Twilight asked, looking back at the first. “Ooh hoo hoo,” Discord trilled. “What an excellent question! Why would I need two? What could I possibly be trying to accomplish?” He held out his paw, offering the question to Twilight to peruse. “Nothing,” Twilight answered sharply. “There’s no reason to have two of them. They don’t go anywhere; what could you possibly do with a second one?” She blinked, surprised at herself. She glanced back to the first one. “What would you even do with the first?” she asked, catching up to the obvious question. She was surprised at how easily she’d allowed it to slip past her when presented with the more glaring redundancy. “It doesn’t have any purpose.” Discord smiled, hovering in the air. He raked his talon slowly over the second staircase, hanging suspended from the wall. “Then I’d say this one has exactly as much purpose as the other. Wouldn’t you agree?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “But it doesn’t have a purpose.” Discord answered her only with a smirk. Floating back to the center of the room, he crossed his legs and lowered himself to rest in a green armchair. “Why don’t you have a seat?” he offered her. He held his talon out, gesturing to an orange pillow set against the wall. The pillow lifted up one corner, noticing his gesture. With some exertion, it flopped itself into a standing position and proceeded to waddle itself over to Twilight. Golden tassles flopped from each corner or dragged along the floor as it approached. It waved one tassle in greeting, then threw itself to the floor beside her right foreleg. Twilight lifted her hoof away from the pillow, sneering with equal parts revulsion and confusion. Taking a step away from it, she replied, “I’ll stand, thanks.” Looking back up to Discord, she asked, “Are you going to tell me what this is about now? What did you do to me?” Discord rest his talon over his heart and held his paw into the air. “Twilight, I swear to you by that shiny crown of yours that I have done none of the things you’re imagining. Honest Apple!” Putting down his paw, he held out his talon. “You were the one who chose to peek behind the curtain!” With a snap of his talons, a green shower curtain appeared around Twilight, cutting her off from the room. She startled, reaching out to throw back the curtain. It parted easily, revealing a small, porcelain bathtub before a wall of pink tiles. Discord stood in the bath wearing a blue shower cap, scrubbing under his arm with a loofah. Upon spotting Twilight, he shrieked. She stumbled backwards, falling on her rump through the curtain on the other side. She landed on soft yellow fuzz. After so many nights with Applejack, she immediately recognized the feel of horsehide beneath her. She picked herself up, looking out at three stubby fingers  as large as houses. Above her, Discord towered, floating against the black night sky amidst an ocean of stars. His yellow eyes and malevolent grin burned a hole into her soul; she’d never felt so small. Discord laughed to himself. “If you wanted to know more about my magic, then there must have been easier ways to do it. I’m certain you could have asked, but I suppose that’s not really your style, is it?” He waved his talon over her head and Twilight felt a wave flow over her, like an ocean washing over her hide. Thinking quickly, she kicked her legs and pushed with her wings to reach the surface. She breached through the top of a bearberry shrub, her hooves finding purchase against its twigs. Her hind legs pushed out against solid ground, lifting the shrub with her. She was in Ponyville now. It wasn’t the desolate ruin she’d so recently visited, however, but the true Ponyville she recognized as her home. Cardboard figures of ponies running, playing, or chatting with one another sat propped up throughout the street, creating a fake imitation of life. Discord popped up through the shrub to her left, holding out a pair of binoculars in his talon. “Now this is more like it,” he said. “I agree, Twilight, this is a much better method.” “Cut it out!” In a purple flash, Twilight teleported to the street in front of her. Whirling on Discord, she demanded, “Why the show, Discord? And why the illusion? Am I supposed to learn something from all of this? Do you want me to think that my friends are a half-step away from going nuts? Am I supposed to be losing my mind because Applejack is apparently capable of hating me in ways I never thought possible?! Is that the point?” A chorus asked from behind her, “Why does everything have to have a point?” Twilight turned around, following the sound. Each of the cardboard ponies turned its head to look at her, and she could see Discord’s face printed on each one. “Because I know you,” Twilight answered. Discord called himself the Master of Chaos, but he always had an agenda. He could be strange and unpredictable at times, but he was always purposeful. Nothing he did was without meaning. “But how well do you know her?” Discord asked from just behind Twilight’s ear, causing her to jump. He held out his talon in front of her face. Clutched in it was a snowglobe through which Twilight could see herself once more. Her body was still passed out on the crystal table where she’d left it, as though no time had gone by. “That’s me,” Twilight said obviously. “At least, it’s the fake version of me that I was given. Her face is scarred and there’s something wrong with her horn. If I had to guess, I’d say that she’s the Twilight Sparkle that was created for the illusion.” Discord grinned, watching the gears in Twilight’s mind turn. “You still think this is all an illusion.” “Of course it is,” Twilight answered, looking up from the sphere. She wasn’t at all surprised to find herself standing in Discord’s living room once more, facing the chair where he sat. “I’ve visited another reality before. I seem to be possessing the fake Twilight in this one, but that’s not how it works when you actually travel between dimensions.” She held out the globe to Discord. “If the reality in here actually existed, then why wouldn’t my body come with me?” Discord gasped in faux alarm. “I never even thought of that! Why, Twilight, it seems you got me! I can’t imagine any reason why chaos magic would yield an unpredicted result!” Twilight narrowed her eyes. “Right, I get it. You don’t have to be mean about it.” Discord giggled to himself. “You know what? Since it’s been so much fun watching your mind squirm about, I’m going to give you this as a freebie. Right now, you’re a hole in the chain of causality. You shouldn’t exist and yet here you are existing plain as day!” Discord scratched his beard. “At least, I think you exist. You will tell me if you stop existing, won’t you? It would be terribly embarrassing to waste my time explaining this to thin air.” “What are you talking about?” Twilight asked. In a flash, Discord was in front of Twilight, jabbing his talon into her chest. “I’m talking about you. Do try to pay attention; reality doesn’t often slow down for you to catch up.” He stood up, waving his talon dismissively. “It’s your favorite subject so that shouldn’t be hard.” “Excuse you?!” Twilight exclaimed. “You’re a contradiction, Twilight. You aren’t meant to exist here.” “Then how did I get here?” Discord smiled. “You witnessed the impossible. Then you opened your mind and you leapt. You weren’t brought here, Twilight. You weren’t taken by anypony. You left. You glimpsed the impossible and for a fleeting moment, you understood. In that moment, you recognized the limitless potential beneath the veil of reality and you made a wish on that power to be anywhere else.” “That’s not true,” Twilight replied. “I wouldn’t do that. I was with my friends. Why would I….” Rarity stepped forward on grass still slick with the early morning dew. Her hoof crunched the grass beneath it, alarming Twilight to her movement. Twilight’s eyes shot open, slick with the tears that could only come from a pony’s first heartbreak. “Stay away from me!” Twilight shouted at the ponies she’d thought were her friends. “You let this happen to me! How could you?!” “We were trying to protect you!” Rarity insisted, her words like icicles digging into Twilight’s heart. “We never meant for any of this to happen.” “Well, that was melodramatic,” Discord said, shaking Twilight from her memory. The living room reasserted itself, fading back into existence over the Everfree Forest. “You saw that?” Twilight asked. “Of course! You created it!” Discord gestured around himself with his paw. “We’re in the space between space. It’s all very suggestable.” Twilight closed her eyes. She was beginning to hear a nugget of truth behind what Discord was saying. There was still so much she didn’t understand and she didn’t like the sound of the parts that she did, but something about it was beginning to click. “If I believe what you’re saying,” she started, thinking aloud, “Where did my body go?” Twilight held a hoof to her chest. “The last time I traveled across dimensional space, my body was altered to accommodate the new reality I was stepping into. I don’t know if that place had a Twilight Sparkle of its own, but I know that if it did, I never met her. I didn’t wake up in her bed with her family and her scars….” “You must have crossed a more stable connection,” Discord replied. To illustrate, Discord conjured up a pair of globes that levitated in midair in front of Twilight. He plunked a wooden footbridge down to connect them, then jammed the two globes into the bridge on each side until they cracked. With a snap of his talons, a golden scepter topped by a bright, smiling Twilight appeared. The scepter rocked back and forth, tapping its way across the bridge as Discord intoned, “Muffin muffin muffin muffin muffin,” with each step. “Right,” Twilight replied, not quite seeing the humor. “This time, on the other hoof….” Discord reached out and grasped the scepter at its base, just above the ruby gemstone embedded at the bottom. Raising it over his head, he swung it into the globe to the right. It exploded, sending pieces sailing in Twilight’s direction. She covered her eyes to shield herself from the inbound debris, but nothing ever impacted her. Twilight lowered her hoof to find herself floating in the abyss of colors and shapes once more. “You broke a hole in the fabric of reality and then didn’t even have the courtesy to travel all the way through. Amateur work, if I’m honest.” Before her, Twilight could see the globe once more housing the slumbering Acting Princess. Following Discord’s train of logic, Twilight asked, “Can I do that? Travel all the way through, I mean. How do I….” Twilight looked to the sphere before her. She reached out with her hoof to touch the edge of it once more. At her touch, reality seemed to ripple like water and she felt herself being pulled towards it once more. It was a strange sensation; it felt like falling but in a direction she’d never noticed was even there before. She pulled her hoof back, tugging at the edge of reality with her mind to center herself once more in the space between. “Go on, Twilight,” Discord said, that wry grin plastered on his face. He let out a whooping giggle, urging her, “Give it a try. There’s still so much for you to see.” Twilight took a deep breath, then wondered what she was even breathing here in the space between—yet another entry for her mental checklist of unanswered questions. She caught something out the corner of her eye, and when she glanced over, she could see Discord's room fading away from her; the pointless stairs drawing her focus just as they had before. Why would you need two? She shook her head, putting the question out of mind, and threw herself forwards into the sphere. Twilight plunged into the reality before her, embracing it as though it were her own. The colors warped into a bright light. The impossible geometry of the space between receded into a course and at the end of it, Twilight could see the other Twilight. She watched as a bright glow grew out of the center of her own head, watched the glow spread down the center of the body. Twilight steadied her wings and flew towards the glow, diving deeper through the-- A bright flash lit up the records room and Twilight erupted into existence, breathing in gasps of air as her hooves landed on carpet below. She coughed and choked as though waking up from drowning, retching out heaves and chunks of nothing. Twilight looked up and before her, she could see the crystal wall clearly through both of her eyes. She extended her wings and found they were there, just as they were always supposed to be. Folding her wings to her side, she ran a hoof along the left side of her face and for the first time since the morning, she felt no pain at the touch. “It worked!” Twilight exclaimed, turning around to face Discord. “It--" The draconequus had not followed her through the veil of reality. Instead, before her lay her scarred doppelganger, still unconscious. Of course, Discord wasn’t there. He’d never met her within the boundaries of this reality. She wondered if he even could. Twilight approached her unconscious other self. She felt a strange sense of nostalgia, seeing her sides unadorned by feathers. It hadn’t been so long ago that she ascended, but it already felt comfortable enough that she could scarcely imagine life before. Being an alicorn felt right, like it was something she was born to do. It was like filling a void she’d never even known existed before. But this Twilight Sparkle wasn’t quite the same. Twilight could now more clearly see the red and black flesh that ran down the side of her face and neck. The small hairs that ran across her purple skin had never regrown, which was to be expected with a third-degree burn like this. Like Applejack, the other Twilight’s body was marred with scars along her side, legs, and neck. Running down the length of the her horn, Twilight found a long vertical crack; nothing that would inhibit the use of magic, but the sight of it was still alarming. “What happened to you?” Twilight whispered in the dark. She glanced down at the report she’d been reading when Discord contacted her. Nothing too helpful; a situation report on the yaks, who’d-- The door opened suddenly, filling the room with a scent of lavender and ginger. “Good evening, dearest, I brought you--” Rarity stopped, dropping her magic field. A tray carrying two teacups plunged, punctuating her silence with the sound of porcelain smashing against the ground. “Rarity?” Twilight put on her best diplomatic smile. “Hi, listen, I can--” “GET AWAY FROM HER!!!” Rarity shrieked, hurling herself across the table. She landed one hind leg against the records table and kicked off, curling with the momentum into a forwards flip. Twilight jerked backwards just before Rarity’s hind leg swept the air where her face had been. Rarity landed with grace, spinning into an expertly trained stance. She stood on her hind legs between Twilight and her copy, holding her forelegs up defensively. Her eyes remained locked on Twilight but she didn’t move. “This isn’t what you think,” Twilight pleaded. “GUARDS!!!” Rarity shrieked. Time to go. “...whuzzah….” Twilight’s duplicate seemed to be coming around. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but from Rarity’s shriek, it was time to go anyway. In a purple flash, she teleported to the hallway just outside the chamber. Three palace guards startled at her sudden appearance. “Uh, there’s a commotion--” Twilight started just before a spear whirled past her ear. Right. Obviously not their Twilight. Too many physical differences. Raising her magic barrier, Twilight turned and bolted for the grand staircase, but spotted four more Royal Guardponies galloping up the stairs for her. It wouldn’t take long for her to be completely surrounded. She turned back towards the adjoining room, a recreational chamber for Pinkie Pie and the guard ponies stationed on this floor, but that avenue too was cut off. Acting Princess Twilight Sparkle glowered from the door. She’d lowered her head aggressively, pointing her horn threateningly at Twilight. As she conjured her magic, Twilight could see a bright orange-yellow glow shining through the crack in her horn. “Could we talk about--” Twilight didn’t even get to finish her question. An orange-yellow bolt of magic fired from the other Twilight’s horn before she could react. It slammed into her barrier, exploding less than a foot in front of Twilight’s face and pushing her backwards two feet. Dazed from the blast, Twilight looked up to see the other Twilight soaring through the air towards her, sneering with pure revulsion. Thinking quickly, Twilight cast her teleport, whisking herself downstairs to the second floor. She landed roughly, hooves skidding along the crystal floor before finding her balance. She tossed her head to the side, searching for an ex-- In a flash of purple, the other one appeared above her, landing on Twilight’s back and forcing her to the ground. “You think a barrier can stop me?” the Acting Princess asked and Twilight could feel the sharpness of a unicorn horn pressing against the side of her face. Twilight felt the horn glow hot and kicked out, flaring her wing and rolling to throw her duplicate off of her. Concentration broke, the other Twilight let out a yelp, wrapping a foreleg around her neck to keep her grip. A warmth filled her heart as she realized she knew exactly what to do; her mind recalling images of long afternoons out by the corral, watching her heart’s desire practice for whatever new event was coming up in Appleoosa. “Yeehaw!” Twilight shouted with a grin, hoisting her copy as she lifted herself from the ground. The unicorn’s weight was surprisingly easy to throw around and before long, Twilight was leaping around the corridor, bucking her hind legs and thrashing about with her head. The Acting Princess struggled to hold on for dear life and Twilight was certain on at least one occasion that she felt the back of her skull collide with the other’s nose. The unicorn Twilight seemed woefully unprepared for this. As Twilight pantomimed the best moves she’d seen from her Special Somepony, it took less than half a minute before Twilight was able to throw her off. The Acting Princess landed hard on her side, skidding across the crystal floor. Twilight gasped for air, losing her footing in her foreleg. That had taken a lot out of her, but she couldn’t rest yet. The other Twilight seemed as dazed as she was, and she needed to take advantage of this chance to-- A bright blue field filled the corridor, its light covering every surface. Twilight looked up, startled. She jerked back towards the grand staircase to see Shining Armor descending the stairs on approach, horn glowing with magic as the field glowed brighter. Twilight took a step back, but the blue energy was everywhere. Suddenly it shrank away from the walls and doorways, pulling inwards with Twilight at its center. She felt the energy flow through her, infusing her horn with its light. Then it was gone and Twilight felt a strange coldness that ran through her bones. She realized with dread that she knew this feeling. She conjured up her teleport spell, but the magic wouldn’t come. She tried to turn herself invisible, to levitate, even a basic transmutation, but none of it would function. With every spell she cast, the magic was simply denied to her. Seconds later, she was forced to the ground. Two Royal Guardponies stood over her, pressing her body against the crystal floor. “Be careful with her,” the Acting Princess ordered. “She’s uncharacteristically strong for a Changeling. We may need to revise our notation on their capabilities.” “I’m not a Changeling!” Twilight shouted. “Where is she?!” Rarity exclaimed from the staircase. “Is she hurt?! I told her not to--aha!" Rarity galloped down the stairs from the third floor. Before the other Twilight even had a chance to react, Rarity was upon her, smothering her in a tight embrace. “Are you hurt? Did she do anything to you? So help me, I will--” “I’m fine,” the Acting Princess answered, pushing Rarity back with a hoof. Rarity reached out for the other Twilight, saying, “Darling, if you’ll just let me--” The Acting Princess silenced her with a single hoof that came up to block Rarity from reaching her. A tense moment hung in the air over the two. Twilight watched the duplicate’s eyes flicker as though weighing considerations in her mind. Then, after a couple seconds, she wrapped her foreleg around Rarity’s hoof and pulled it to her chest. “I’m well enough,” the Acting Princess said more gently. “Right now, my wellbeing can’t be our consideration. Everypony needs to be on high alert.” Letting go of Rarity’s hoof, Twilight ordered, “I want a full sweep. Start with the palace and work our way out. A changeling never operates alone; there have to be more of them out there.” She glanced down at Twilight on the ground. “And be careful. I’ve never heard of a Changeling that could cast spells before, apart from their Queen. I want three ponies to a patrol and if you get in trouble, send up a signal.” With a hoof, she lifted up Twilight’s wing. “And if anypony sees Chrysalis, tell her I’m flattered but she needs to do her research.” “Yes, ma’am!” One Guardpony in front replied. The assembled ranks saluted, then spread out to carry out her orders with the exception of the two holding down Twilight. “I’m not a Changeling,” Twilight tried again. “You have to listen to me, I’m--” A sideways glare from the other Twilight and a crackle of her horn later, Twilight found herself swiftly silenced. A small lavender bubble fit around her snout, silencing any noise that came from it. Twilight pleaded, she even shouted, but the spell denied her every word. “Truly now, are you feeling up to this?” Rarity asked. Twilight watched the Acting Princess’s body seem to slump once most of the guards had left. “I have to be,” she answered, eyes full of determination even as her body seemed to struggle to remain upright. “It’s all up to me now. I made a promise; I have to be vigilant.” One of the guardponies holding Twilight spoke up. “Oh, uh, I’m Vigilant, ma’am.” Twilight sighed with agitation, refusing to even turn her head to acknowledge his interruption. “Hello again, Vigilant,” she said wearily. “Hello, ma’am. Happy to be here, as always!” “What should we do with her?” Shining Armor asked. “You know where to put her.” The Acting Princess looked to her brother, gesturing at Twilight. “There may be some value in studying her, but I don’t want her in the Empire. Put her in Bridle Rock with the rest of them while I figure out our next move.” “Yes, ma’am,” Shining Armor answered gravely. As Twilight and Rarity walked away to the stairs, he turned to his ponies. “You heard the Princess. Load her up.” Twilight tried to appeal to him once more, but the isolation spell remained firmly affixed to her snout. That was how Twilight found herself in a barred carriage, carted through the night air by a pair of royal pegasi. As she looked to the sky, she found a full moon staring down back at her. She could see the glowering features of the Mare in the Moon passively watching over all of Equestria. Another stark reminder of how far she was from home. The carriage landed on a rocky outcropping high in the snow-covered mountains. It was next to impossible to see on approach through the blizzarding air, so thick with snow that it obscured everything beyond a few feet. Shining Armor had stood at the edge of the carriage, casting a locator from his horn that shone the way for the pegasi to follow. The carriage landed on the outcropping just before a small cave entrance and the cage’s door was opened for Twilight. “Out,” Shining Armor said simply. The biting cold clung to Twilight’s skin; her legs had already gone numb from the trip over and she could feel the ice clinging to her nose. Shining Armor seemed to have a generous idea of the temperature if he thought she could move in this condition. Noticing this himself, Shining Armor gave Twilight a forceful shove with his magic, pushing her out of the carriage. She fell hard on her shoulder, impacting the rocks and dirt beneath her. As her teeth chattered, she struggled to push herself to a standing position. Her forelegs gave out once, forcing her to try a second time. Through the effort, Shining Armor wouldn’t even look at her; he stood apart from her, dispassionately facing the cave and closing his eyes to her struggle. Once Twilight made it up on her hooves, Shining Armor started walking. He said nothing to her, never looking straight at her but always seeming to be aware of how far behind him she was and pairing his gait to hers. The chittering of her teeth was the only sound that…. Wait, if she could hear her teeth, that meant the isolation spell must have ended. She made one more plea to Shining Armor. “Shining Armor, you have to listen to--” “Speak to me with my sister’s voice and you won’t make it to your cell,” Shining Armor replied scornfully. In his voice, Twilight didn’t hear anger or malice, but the bitterness of a heart crying out in pain. His tone struck her, resonating with the pain in her own heart. On a lark, she tested her horn, but the magic still refused to come. The disabling spell would not wear off so easily, it seemed. The interior of the cave was warmer than the outside, but not by as much as Twilight would have liked. There was a clear source of heat being generated here and Twilight felt her extremities thawing after a minute inside, but there was still a chill that wafted through air from the outside. It felt nothing like the temperate warmth of the Crystal Empire. Concrete walls with steel support beams lined each passageway, turning the place from a simple cave into a subterranean structure. As she walked, she noticed tunnels and paths that led off to other areas of the cave. A green glow lit each passageway and down the tunnels, she could see doorways and branches leading off to other parts of the structure. Shining Armor stopped in front of set of steel bars at the end of the hallway. With a glow of his horn, a door opened in the bars, allowing him to pass through. Twilight followed him into a long hallway lined on both sides by rows of bars. To her left, she spotted an orange pegasus reclining in a break room through an open door. The room was decorated with white paint and against the far wall, the pegasus lay out across a red recliner that Twilight found reminiscent of Rarity’s fainting couch. “Ahem,” Shining Armor cleared his throat. Upon noticing the two, the pegasus leapt to his hooves. His orange hide seemed strangely familiar, as did the bright blue star on the breastplate of his golden armor. “Uh, one sec,” he called back, glancing frantically about the room. His unkempt blue mane whirled about the room as he scrambled. “Where is it?!” Twilight heard him mutter, followed by a quick, “Aha!” The pegasus emerged, his golden helmet securely resting upon his head. He scrambled over to stand in front of Shining Armor and gave a quick salute. “Everything’s quiet here, sir!” he reported. “Inspecting or….” His eyes fell on Twilight, then grew as large as dinner plates. “Your highness!” he exclaimed. “I-I-I didn’t know you were--” “This is a dropoff,” Shining Armor said, cutting him off. “This Changeling was found in the Crystal Palace trying to replace Acting Princess Twilight Sparkle.” The pegasus blinked. “That’s a serious offense.” “It is. So don’t worry; this isn’t an inspection. Go ahead and put her with the others. We can talk about your professionalism another time.” The pegasus lowered his head at Shining Armor’s casual reprimand. “With all due respect, sir, does it really matter? This is Bridle Rock. Nopony ever leaves Bridle Rock.” Shining Armor stood up to his full height, towering a head above the pegasus. “As her majesty’s Royal Guard, we are expected to follow her example and stand firm against anypony and everypony that would seek to harm Equestria. She expects nothing less than constant vigilance from you. Nopony is to leave Bridle Rock until she’s determined that they do not pose a dangerous threat to the future of our people.” “Right,” the pegasus replied. “Total agreement. Like I said.” Bitterly, he added, “Nopony ever leaves Bridle Rock.” “Good. I have to get back; Twilight might need me to join the search. Be careful with this one; she’s strong and she seems to have unicorn magic. We’re still looking into that. Be sure that her disabling spell gets refreshed daily. And you can expect me to be back for an inspection next week. Don’t look forward to it.” The pegasus gulped. “Yes sir,” he replied, saluting Shining Armor. He stood in place, salute raised high until Shining Armor disappeared around a corner towards the mouth of the cave, then slumped. “Well, that’s great,” he muttered to himself. With a shrug, he added, “But what are they going to do? Demote me to prison bar?” Twilight looked to the pegasus curiously. “You don’t like it here, do you?” she asked. The pegasus laughed. “You know, weird as it might sound, I actually volunteered for this. But hey, the dump shift doesn’t stop being a dump shift just because you asked for--” He stopped suddenly, looking at Twilight with suspicion. “…I shouldn’t be talking to you.” He started walking, motioning for Twilight to keep up. She followed him, looking through the bars as she walked. If being underground hadn’t already made her claustrophobic, the small size of the cells would have done the job. Each cell was decorated only with a straw mat and was barely more than two pony lengths in size. She already dreaded the thought of being alone here. “Have you been here long?” she asked, trying to keep her spirits up with some conversation. “Oh, no, I’m not falling for this,” the pegasus replied. “You’re trying to work some Changeling voodoo on me, aren’t you? Get inside my head so you can replace me and slip out of here. I’m onto you.” “Right,” Twilight muttered, narrowing her eyes. “Still not talking.” She was already getting tired of being-- Out the corner of her eye, she spotted a flash of red and yellow contrasted against the stone. She stopped, turning to look inside the cell beside her. “Sunset Shimmer?” she whispered. Her fiery red mane was unmistakable in the-- “Hey, keep up,” the pegasus chided. “Right,” Twilight answered, tearing her eyes away. That had to have been Sunset, she was certain of it. As she walked, she looked through the cells she passed to see if she recognized any of the other prisoners. She spotted Flam of the Flimflam Brothers pacing a circle in the tiny confines of his cell. She noticed a light blue hide that she could swear probably belonged to “The Great and Powerful Trixie”. She also saw several ponies she couldn’t recognize, of various species and genders. The more she saw, the more she became uncomfortable with the very idea of this place. This was not the Equestria she knew and loved. It was more than foreign; it was hostile to the very ideals she’d spent the last couple years developing. There was an atmosphere of pony suffering that seemed palpable. She could feel the edges of fear creeping in around her as she tasted spoiled air rich with despair. Following the pegasus deeper in, she wanted more than anything to be out of here. “This should work,” the pegasus said, sliding open the door in one cell. Twilight wondered what he would do if she decided to make a break for it. Was he the only guard pony here? He didn’t seem to take his job very seriously; it wasn’t impossible that she could outrun him. Of course, Shining Armor had said something about refreshing her disabling spell, which meant that there had to be at least a unicorn somewhere in the facility. So the assumption that this pegasus was alone seemed implausible. Not to mention, she wasn’t sure how the door to the outside worked. But if she could get past him, avoid any other guards, and get that door open, she’d be able to make it outside and promptly freeze to death in the blizzard. …that solution seemed uncomfortably suboptimal. “Come on, don’t make this hard,” the pegasus urged her. With this disabling spell on her horn, her options were sharply limited right now. With great trepidation, Twilight entered the cell, which the pegasus then closed. The door closed by a single handle that was pushed away from the hinge horizontally, then rotated ninety degrees to run parallel to a long horizontal bar. The bar blocked the handle from being accessible from within the cell and the bars were too tightly spaced to fit a hoof through. “Lights out,” the pegasus muttered, returning back up the hall the way he’d come. In response, the green light dimmed until the room turned pitch black. Twilight flopped onto the straw mat. It was every bit as uncomfortable as she’d expected, providing only the barest of cushioning from the hard stone floor below her. The more she learned about this place, the more she found she hated it here. They very idea of Bridle Rock hurt her deep in her soul; why would the other Twilight even have a place like this? Did she know what it was like here? Twilight rolled over on the straw mat and her mind drifted to thoughts of home. She closed her eyes and in the depths of her mind, she could smell Granny Smith’s warm apple pie wafting up the stairs at Sweet Apple Acres. She saw the brilliant colors created by Rainbow Dash’s Sonic Rainboom light up the-- Spitfire. She remembered Spitfire throwing herself in the Rainboom’s path once more, and her heart stung with the tinge of guilt. She heard Applejack frantically proclaiming that she wasn’t a part of the family. She saw the look on Rarity’s face when she realized she shouldn’t have mentioned a betting pool involving Twilight’s relationship. Somehow, with three different realities in which her friends existed, Twilight had never been more alone. The chill drifting through the prison did nothing to comfort her, and soon she found herself unable to keep a sob from welling up inside her. Tomorrow, she’d figure out what to do, but tonight, she’d let herself-- Twilight smelled a curious scent drifting up. It smelled like cheese, drifting up from the floor. That couldn’t be right. Twilight opened her eyes and squinted down; in the dark, she could just make out the shape of a small rodent. It clutched a small block between its paws, which it held out in offering to her. Twilight leaned her head forward slowly, trying to make sure she understood this. The block clearly smelled like cheddar. Opening her snout, she reached out with her teeth and took it from the mouse, which released its grip as soon as she had it. Twilight tasted the cheese and, here in this moment, it was the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted. To her left, another rat approached, holding up a small bowl. Twilight put her lips to the bowl and tasted cool, refreshing water, which she gulped down. She hadn’t even realized how thirsty she was. Another rat approached, this one with a piece of bread that Twilight accepted gratefully. Her tears still ran down her cheek as she took one gift after another from the rodents. “Thank you,” she whispered to them; somehow, this tiny gesture had managed to warm her heart. “Please don’t cry, Miss Changeling,” a voice greeted her from the dark outside her cell. The shape of a pony approached in the dark, flanked by rodents. One carried a small lamp which glowed from the light of fireflies inside, allowing her to see the yellow hide of her benefactor. The rat set the lamp down just outside Twilight’s cell and, shortly after, she was greeted by a smiling face flanked by a curled pink mane. Fluttershy seemed weaker than Twilight remember her. Her mane was matted down against her skin and looked as if it hadn’t been washed in weeks. Her body was thinner than Twilight remembered and her wings lay still by her sides. Even so, there was a gentle kindness in the smile that met Twilight through the fireflies’ dim light. When she spoke, it was with concern that Twilight hadn’t heard since her arrival here. “Even when times seem at their darkest, you can always find a little light.”