The Narrative Cascade

by Amber Spark


Library

"So, as far as I can tell, I'm the snarky love interest.” Sunset ignored Twilight’s groan. “Moondancer's the grump who's probably secretly a powerhouse. And Minuette's the lovestruck—err, I mean—she’s the plucky insider who will probably get a super dramatic moment.”

“And me?” Twilight demanded as they slipped through the Hall of History on the west side of the castle.

You? You're the classic straight mare.”

Twilight stopped and stared at her.

“Oh, don't worry. I doubt we'll get through this with you remaining the straight mare.”

“I hate you. So much.”

Sunset beamed at her.

Sunset’s probably right. Well, on everything except how I feel about her. Obviously. Still, I have no intention of telling her. She’d be insufferable. Well, more insufferable.

Twilight glared at her.

Sunset chuckled. Despite her breakdown in the trolley, she looked to be having the time of her life. Meanwhile, Moondancer didn’t seem to care and Minuette kept shooting glances at Moondancer. A part of Twilight wished Moondancer would just kiss the poor lovestruck mare. Moondancer couldn’t be that blind!

Then again, that would almost certainly result in them being down two more ponies.

Despite Minuette’s untimely infatuation, the Cascade seemed to have little effect on her. Twilight had a few hypotheses as to why, but she kept them to herself. They didn’t need the complication.

Once they’d reached the surface, they’d stashed Doctor Brown and Doctor Clear in a broom closet and struck out for the castle. Pinkie and Skystar had disappeared to… somewhere. Twilight had long ago given up on trying to keep track of that mare.

She had been troubled by how they hadn’t been challenged—or even waylaid—en route to the castle. In fact, it was downright suspicious. She’d almost mentioned how it’d been too easy, but stopped herself just in time.

Now, they were slinking through the castle corridors, trying to avoid being seen by anypony—or worse, seeing things they didn’t want to see.

For example, she definitely didn’t want to see Professor Apple Polish hitting on Professor Inkwell. Why were they even here?

“How much time do you think we have left?” Sunset whispered in a voice that warmed Twilight in all the right spots, despite her earlier comments. Twilight beat back the magically-induced hormones with a stick. It was a metaphorical stick, of course, but it was a very large metaphorical stick.

“Enough,” Twilight muttered as they reached one of the smaller libraries on the second floor. If Twilight remembered correctly, there was a secret passage in here that led to some quiet—and more importantly, discreet—stairs.

Twilight pushed open the door and sucked in a breath.

Index Card, the Castle’s West Librarian, sat at her desk, tears streaming down her glistening cheeks. She looked far younger than she had this morning and wore a dress billowing in an impossible wind. Beside her, the athletic Felt Pen—in an equally billowy dress—comforted the mare by kissing the tears away.

The only really odd part about the scene—aside from the fact that it was happening at all—was the strange fuzziness both mares had around them. It was almost as if—

“Even light is being manipulated?” Moondancer cried as she adjusted her glasses and stared at the new couple. “That’s a soft-focus effect!”

Minuette whirled. “How do you know what a soft-focus effect is?”

Twilight and Sunset turned to face the suddenly beet-red Moondancer. “I… I just do, okay?”

“Which series?” Twilight demanded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Moondancer shouted, backing away.

“Look!” Twilight snapped. “If you don’t tell us what romance series you’ve been reading, it’ll come out at the worst possible time! You know it! I know it! We can’t give the Cascade any more openings! It’s too much of a risk!”

Of course, Moondancer knew the risks. She would. Moondancer was brilliant. She had a mind like greased lightning with depths that would make an ocean envious. She was almost as brilliant as Twilight or Sunset. What would it be like to have a late-night study session with the two most intelligent mares in all Equestria?

The briefest of images flashed in her mind’s eye. Moondancer and Sunset Shimmer… together with… Twilight… surrounded by… enormous stacks of books

Twilight slapped herself across the face.

“Now!” she barked, ignoring her rigid wings.

Sunset snickered and poked them.

Mares of Memory,” Moondancer muttered.

Minuette squealed. “Oh my goodness! I love that series!”

“Why am I not surprised?” Moondancer groaned. “Twilight, you promised a secret passage! Let’s get to it!”

“We’re looking for a ledger of food shipments between Fillydelphia and Canterlot from the Mid-Fourth Century!” Twilight said. “Split up and look around! And stay away from one another!”

Sunset poked her wing again. Twilight slapped Sunset with the wing.

They left the oblivious Index Card and Felt Pen alone and fanned out.

Within seconds, Twilight knew they were doomed. The Cascade had filled every shelf with racy romance novels—most of them barding rippers.

Not that she had any familiarity with barding rippers, of course. No matter what a particular library’s records might indicate. No matter the implications of a sudden subpoena of all checkout records of one T. Sparkle to the Princess of Friendship’s Office. Or the implications of said records getting mysteriously lost in transit over the Everfree Forest.

Or the implications of the mysterious spontaneous combustion of said records on the way down.

Completely irrelevant. All of it.

She shoved those thoughts into the back of her head. The back of her head put up a ‘No Vacancy’ sign. She ignored it and shoved it in anyway.

Would Celestia or Luna be affected by the Cascade? Were they fighting it? Twilight wondered. Could they even fight it?

That, of course, led to other thoughts. It only seemed appropriate as she searched the ‘Hot for Teacher’ section, which did absolutely nothing to banish the (mostly) unwanted images from her mind.

She’d given up on getting her wings to fold. There just didn’t seem to be a point anymore.

Then, at the very end of the row, she saw it.

All Canterlot Archives maintained strict quality control standards. Books found to be in violation of said standards would be removed with extreme prejudice, banished to where all bad books go in the end…

The free shelves.

When Twilight had first seen this book, she had shrieked so loud, Index Card had complained about ringing in her ears for three weeks.

Then, Celestia had told her the truth.

After that, Twilight made sure to glare at the stupid little book and its uneven lettering, shoddy spine and ratty jacket, not to mention nonstandard book cover size. The offending book may be necessary, but she still reviled it on a deeply spiritual level. Her librarian’s soul loathed it.

And now, all of Canterlot depended on it.

She approached the book cautiously, only to feel something soft and delicate beneath her hooves. She closed her eyes and glanced down, only for her worst fears to be realized.

Twilight stood upon a carpet of rose petals. Red rose petals. She glanced at a small table to her right, only to see it lit by red firefly lanterns. She risked a glance to her left, only to see an enormous poster for the latest Nightfall book.

One that showed all three of the main characters in… rather… inappropriate poses for a… uh…

Twilight swallowed and fanned herself. What was I doing again?

The book, you idiot! the sane part of her screamed even as another part of her was impressed by the concept that a poster for a romance book could actually be inappropriate.

By the time she turned back, thin gauzy curtains of red and violet hung over each window, giving the library an almost sultry feeling. Portals weren’t even manifesting anymore. Things were just being changed as narrativium waves born of the Cascade washed over the castle.

Twilight gritted her teeth and moved toward the book, yet her mind kept wandering. Specifically toward Sunset. Twilight had only said she’d think about it because she didn’t want to rush headlong into a passionate romance with one of her best friends. After all, her other best friends were as suited to an intimate, romantic relationship as Sunset!

Granted, Sunset was the one who’d asked. And she was gorgeous. And talented. And practically Celestia’s daughter. And the only pony who could keep up with her regarding everything from transdimensional wavelength theories to quantum magic amplification rituals. And… she was as hot as the sun itself

Then again, did she really have to choose between Sunset and her friends? Why should she bother with such outdated thoughts as exclusivity? After all, Twilight was the Princess of Friendship. They had the same friends now.

Maybe Sunset and Twilight could start a new trend. Maybe she should bring the rest of them and—

Twilight slapped herself again. This time, it hurt a lot more.

Must… keep… going

Twilight forced herself to move toward the book. It didn’t even have a proper Starswirl Decimal System label, which offended her on the deepest of spiritual levels. Still, it remained the solution to all of her problems. She had to get it, even if the waves of disrupted narrative pouring through it were warping her mind and constantly dragging her back to Sunset’s sultry smile…

She just casually asked me out to dinner! It’s not like she propositioned me holding a red rose in her teeth in one of those flimsy nighties that left nothing to the imagination. That would be… uh… absurd…

The example was poorly chosen, as now Twilight could not remove the image from her mind.

Twilight lunged forward and grabbed for the book. The moment her hoof touched it, a wave of weakness rushed through her and she collapsed against the bookshelf with a sigh. The book fell and landed open with a snap. Something bright pink burst out of it and slipped away before Twilight could react.

A few seconds later, she heard Sunset’s cry of shock.

“Oh Celestia…” Twilight moaned. “What now?”

Sunset stepped around the corner and Twilight’s breath caught. If her wings flared any harder, they might burst from her back. She licked her suddenly dry lips.

A soft pink light fell upon Sunset, as if Celestia herself had blessed her for this very moment. A violently dark red rose lay nestled in the crook of her ear. Her hair fell in ringlets all around her face, coursing down her back and over the shoulders of her glittering emerald green gown. Every motion was languid, every sway hypnotic, every blink an invitation.

Sunset’s eyes burned with teal fire, eager to ignite, eager to consume. Twilight wanted nothing more than to throw herself into those flames and burn forever.

Sunset slowly sauntered up to her, her lips luscious, pink and so very kissable. She reached out a hoof to gently caress Twilight’s face as music began to play from a nearby radio.

A brief flutter of thought passed through Twilight’s barely-functioning brain. Something stupid about an emergency.

Meh, Twilight thought dizzily. Celestia can get this one… she needs to pull her weight for once.

Sunset caressed Twilight’s cheek again, then slowly slipped a hoof behind Twilight’s head.

Twilight leaned forward, unable to resist the sheer beauty of the stunning unicorn before her.

Then, Sunset whacked her upside the head with enough force to give her whiplash.

“Ow!” Twilight yelped. “What the hell, Sunset?!”

“Seriously?” Sunset cocked an eyebrow. “The music was a dead giveaway.”

Sunset pointed to a small radio on the table. A stupid and sappy love ballad drifted from the speakers.

The light had vanished, but Sunset’s new hairstyle, the rose and the dress were still there. Sunset cocked her head at Twilight. “You look confused.”

“I thought you wanted me,” Twilight said—and she did not sound pouty whatsoever.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Sunset said with that damn smirk that Twilight hated so much. “I will get a yes out of you, but I’m pretty sure I can get you without a Narrative Cascade going on. Takes all the challenge out of it! Nah. Not my style.”

“How are you completely unaffected by this?” Twilight demanded as she snatched up the book and tried to glare Sunset into embarrassment. When that didn’t work, she ran to the west wall.

“Better question?” Sunset said, following her. “Why are you so easily affected by it?”

“I’ve been fighting nonstop! You’ve seen me! I’ve bashed my head into walls! I’ve slapped myself hard enough to leave bruises!”

Twilight searched the blank wall for the right stone.

“I’ve also seen the library in your attic.”

Twilight stiffened… more. “No… that’s locked.”

“Twilight Sparkle’s Secret Sh—”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Twilight screamed.

Sunset laughed. Twilight hated just how bucking sexy that laugh sounded.

She. Hated. It. So. Much.

So. Much.

Thankfully, the scream summoned both Minuette and Moondancer, both of whom looked rather flushed. Twilight didn’t want to think about why. She did anyway. At least a little.

She found the right stone and pushed it. A small slot appeared in the wall. Twilight shoved the book inside and turned it as if the wall itself were part of some immense lock. Which it was.

Then, the book got stuck. Twilight grunted and twisted harder, but it wouldn’t budge.

Minuette pushed Twilight aside. She turned around, and bucked the wall once. The book lock turned as if it were on oiled hinges.

The door rumbled open, revealing a dusty, cobweb-lined hallway leading to a spiral staircase. All the torches were out. This did not surprise Twilight in the least. She turned and glared at Minuette.

“How?” Twilight asked. It was a stupid question.

“I work in the Guild.” Minuette shrugged. “Happens all the time down there.”

“Of course it does.”

Twilight led the way up the secret hidden passage. They may have endured the ‘something’s broken, so hit it to fix it’ trope, but at least the method of accessing the hidden staircase trope was semi-original.

Thankfully, the door slid closed behind them just as the steamy jazz tune came over the radio.