//------------------------------// // 12 - A Family Dispute // Story: Lessons in Chaos // by TobiasDrake //------------------------------// A cacophony tore through the meadow just outside Fluttershy’s home. The pegasus gasped in shock. “Flitterjet! You know better than that!” “TWEET TWEET TWEE TWEE TWEEEEEEET” The hummingbird chirped rapidly in protest, but Fluttershy would hear none of it. “Don’t you take that tone with me,” she said sternly. “I know what I saw.” “TWEET TWEEEEEEE” “No, I am not letting you go until you apologize. That kind of vulgarity was completely uncalled for. Angel was just trying to be friendly with you.” “TWEE TWEEEET” “That’s not what I saw.” “TWEEEEEE” Flitterjet let out one last disappointed chirp. Beside Fluttershy, her dearest friend Angel, an innocent little bunny rabbit who she knew would never do anything like what Flitterjet accused, folded his forelegs and tapped his bunny foot expectantly. Bitterly, the hummingbird nodded her head. “Twee tweet.” “There,” Fluttershy said, more warmly than before. “Isn’t that better? Doesn’t it feel nice to get that off your conscience? Now the two of you can….” It was then that she noticed her friend Applejack towing a cart across the land bridge headed up to the cottage. “Oh, my delivery is here. Play nice now, you two!” No sooner had Fluttershy trotted off across the mead than Angel blew a raspberry at Flitterjet. Applejack parked the wagon at the base of the incline leading up to the front door and began the process of extricating herself from the yoke. Behind her, a small purple dragon hopped down from the back of the cart. Fluttershy hadn’t even realized Spike was coming, but there he was, opening the tailgate. Applejack came around the back of the wagon. Fluttershy could see Spike bouncing back and forth, grinning from ear to ear and clicking the tips of his claws against each other in eagerness. “Three bushels,” Applejack ordered. “Good morning, Applejack,” Fluttershy greeted. Spike pulled the first basket full of apples down from the cart. “It’s nice to see you.” “Mornin’,” Applejack said neutrally. “I got three bushels for delivery.” With her left foreleg, she pulled a second basket down from the back of the cart. “And a little helper, I see.” Fluttershy giggled, watching Spike scurry towards the front door. More seriously, she asked, “He hasn’t tried breathing for you again, has he?” Three days before, Applejack’s hoof rapped gently against her bedroom door. “Spike, y’in there?” she called. “Supper’s on if’n you want to join us.” A few seconds passed with no answer. Earlier that day, at her insistence, Spike had moved into the Apple family house. Transporting his bed and other essentials had been a trivial matter. The main fear was what he would do once he arrived. The family had braced themselves for how he would behave, but to everypony’s surprise, the day had passed uneventfully. Nopony had seen hide nor hair of him since his midday arrival. Instead, he’d been up here, wasting the day away under what Applejack suspected to be the same cloud of depression that she’d been fending off. Applejack furrowed her brow and knocked again. “Spike?” She waited another moment, then twisted the handle and eased the door open. Inside, she found Spike seated on his bed at the foot of her own. His bed was a tiny thing. He slept in a woven basket with a shaped boxspring and cushion pressed into it. Applejack presumed that it was a custom design, probably ordered for a bunch of bits from some fancy custom furniture place in Canterlot. At least, she hoped that was the case, as it took her mind off how much Spike’s bed resembled Winona’s. Spike glanced up at the sound of the door opening. “Oh, hey, Applejack,” he said dourly. “Did you need my help with something?” “Wanted to let you know that supper’s on,” Applejack repeated. Her eyes trailed to the picture frame in his claws. He must have taken it from her bedside table. A younger Twilight could be seen in the photo, fidgeting nervously with her forelegs. She was seated on a red cushion in what looked to be the Royal Palace while her face was contorted somewhere between a fake smile and a grimace. Her attention seemed to be somewhere off to her left rather than on the camera. “Oh!” Spike said, following her gaze to the picture he held. “I’m sorry, I saw this and--” “Ain’t no harm in lookin’,” Applejack said soothingly. “I miss her too.” Spike seemed to accept that. After a few seconds, he explained, “I was there when they took this, you know. A couple moons before we came to Ponyville, Princess Celestia gathered all of her students to take photos for the graduation ceremony.” Applejack sat down beside him, looking down at the picture. “I heard a little somethin’ about that. Reckon she didn’t take kindly to it?” “Oh, she was so mad,” Spike said. Setting down the picture frame, he held up a claw snippily, raising the pitch of his voice in his best impersonation of Twilight’s nasal intonation. “I’m in the middle of a very important experiment with Somethinghoof’s Whatever! Nostalgic photography serves no pragmatic function!” Spike bounced up to his feet, holding up his claws in mock agitation. “This is stupid! You’re all stupid! Study study books study!” Then, in his best screeching eagle tone, he cried out, “REEEEEESEARCH!!!” Applejack burst out laughing at Spike’s impression. She reared back on her hind legs, cackling at Spike’s screech, then caught herself on the side of her bed. “That pony is somethin’ else,” Applejack said through chuckles. She took a few seconds to wind down, then added, “Explains why there ain’t a lot of pictures of her.” “There are better ones, though,” Spike replied. “They did a bunch of takes with her school picture. She didn’t like it, but she wasn’t going to argue with Princess Celestia, and the Princess wasn’t going to let her stop until she got one that wasn’t scowling. It was very important to her.” He picked up the photo again, looking quizzically at Applejack. “But this isn’t that picture. Twilight always told me that this is her worst photo. Why would you frame it?” “’Cause it’s her,” Applejack said bluntly. “Twilight ain’t all prim and properlike. She ain’t even no good at fakin’ it. Those other pictures are tryin’ to make her out to be somethin’ she ain’t.” Applejack traced her hoof along the frame. “This right here, this is Twi. When she’s snorin’ like hungry Timberwolf, drool drippin’ out on the pillow, this is her. When she skips two meals readin’ and then she gets mad at her stomach for cuttin’ in, this is her.” Seeing Spike tremble, Applejack stopped. His claws jittered and he closed his eyes for a second. “She’s coming back, right?” Spike asked. Suddenly, Applejack felt like a heel. She’d been so focused on her own panic and her own hurt, but there were others who were just as afraid and hurt right now. She’d already seen that with Princess Celestia, and now here she was rambling in front of Spike. Truth was, she hadn’t gotten the best impression of Spike the last time he tried to spend an extended period on the farm. Even before that, she’d always been mildly uncomfortable around him. His role as Twilight’s personal dragon servant made her uneasy. Twilight wasn’t the first upper-class pony she’d ever been with, so she was no stranger to the concept of servants. A live-in servant who doesn’t get paid, though… that was something different, and it bothered her in a way she’d never been able to put to words. But seeing him here, trying to hide the quiver in his eyes and mask the shaking of his voice, it all fell into place. “Oh, Spike,” Applejack said softly. She embraced the little dragon, crossing both of her forelegs around him from behind. “I ain’t about to lie to ya and say she’ll be okay. I wish I could, but life’s got plans for each and every one of us and we don’t always get a say in what that means. But if you know nothin’ else about her, you know this: she’s a fighter, right down to her root, and she’s gonna do everythin’ she can to make it right back here with us.” It was a strange feeling to be saying these words. Her father’s voice came as naturally as if it had been her own. “You gotta keep your chin up and hope for the best, Spike. But you gotta be ready for the worst just as much.” She dabbed him in the chest with the tip of her hoof. “And if that time’s gotta come, y’know in your heart that she loved you enough for a lifetime. You carry that with you for the rest of your days.” Applejack heard Spike let out a sniffle. Gently, she added, “This room right here, it’s your safe place. You don’t gotta be tough right now, not in here. You go on and let it all out, and I’ll be right here with you through each and every tear.” Applejack shut her eyes tight and squeezed the little dragon, rocking gently back and forth the way her daddy had done for her. In that moment, her questions and doubts no longer seemed to matter. The precise nature of Spike’s relationship with Twilight no longer seemed to matter. It didn’t matter if he was anything as simple as a worker. It didn’t matter if he was like a brother or a son or a cousin or even just a friend. Truthfully. there were no words to describe what Spike was to her anyway. At least, there were no words but one, and she knew it was the only one that mattered. He was family. “He hasn’t tried breathing for you again, has he?” Fluttershy asked with a giggle. “Spike ain’t a bad seed,” Applejack answered, watching him setting down his basket. He turned and jogged down the path towards Applejack and Fluttershy, wearing a proud grin. “He just gets excited, is all. Reckon we all forget how young he is at times.” “I think she’d be happy to see you two getting along,” Fluttershy said. “Reckon she would,” Applejack replied stoically. “How have you been since…?” “I manage,” Applejack replied noncommittally. Fluttershy eyed Applejack carefully. That the earth pony kept her gaze on Spike, never looking straight at her when she answered these questions was not lost on Fluttershy. “I know it’s only been a week, but I can’t stop worrying about her. I can’t imagine how you must…I mean….” “Good work,” Applejack said, cutting her off. “You got two more and then it’s happy trails.” She met Spike at the bottom of the hill, passing him the second bushel. Spike accepted the basket with a grunt, then scurried back up the path. “Oh, my, there’s no need for you to go so soon,” Fluttershy said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay for tea?” “Beg pardon, but we got a long day of deliveries ahead and we’re burnin’ daylight as it is. How ‘bout I take a raincheck for next time?” The distance in Applejack’s eyes did not go unnoticed as she spoke. Fluttershy pursed her lips. She was never very good at this. In a given day, she had enough sympathy for a lifetime, but communicating her feelings had always been difficult for her. Why did this come so much easier with nature’s other creatures? “Well, perhaps I could come with you,” she offered sweetly. “I might be able to help you with your load.” Applejack hesitated. Despite herself, she actually cracked a smile at that mental picture. “Better times, I might be gettin’ half a mind to set you up with the cart and watch you try and pull it.” “You’re right, that was silly of me,” Fluttershy said. Internally, however, she marked this down as a success. Applejack’s mood had at least brightened, and that was progress enough. “I still want to help, though. Isn’t there anything I could do?” “That depends. Y’ain’t seen Apple Bloom round these parts, have you?” “No, I’m afraid not.” “Worth a shot,” Applejack said with a shrug. “You reckon Discord’s still keeping up his end, tryin’ to find where Twilight’s gone off to?” “We’re having tea tomorrow,” Fluttershy explained. “I was going to ask him if he’s found anything.” Applejack nodded. “Then how’s about you let me worry about me, and you worry about that. You find a way to bring Twilight home, and you’ll have helped me enough for a lifetime.” “Apples!” Spike called out over the bustle of the crowd. “We’ve got fresh, juicy apples over here!” The marketplace was packed with a rainbow of differently colored ponies, each rushing back and forth between a variety of wooden displays. Vendors marketed their goods under differently colored cloths. Some were forced to rely on calling out for attention while others had signs put up on their booths, clearly marking their business name and type of stock. The Apple Family relied on a stall with a green canvas over the top to shield their wares from the midday sun. Crates sat in front of the stall, each upturned diagonally to provide passing ponies with a clearer view of the many different apples they had on sale. On the rack behind the crates, Applejack had unloaded apple pies, apple turnovers, apple brown betties, and several other pastry dishes that a hungry pony might be interested to take home with them. The wagon nestled comfortably in the back of the stall, allowing easy access to its stock. As apples and pastries sold from the front, Spike would restock the supply from the wagon. It was easy enough work to get the hang of, and Applejack was there to help him with any organizational questions. Not that he had money; compared to navigating Twilight’s organizational requirements, the Apple Family’s display rules were a breeze. But that wasn’t the only task Spike had taken up. Across the marketplace, he spotted a finely dressed stallion. The pony wore a fine set of brown leather saddlebags with sterling silver clasps. He was dressed in a blue suede vest, open at the top. Spike watched this pony passed three bits into the hoof of a unicorn merchant, who levitated a green porcelain bowl into his bag in return. This was his chance. Spike eagerly raced around behind Applejack, but she caught him with her hind leg. Without saying a word, she merely smirked at him, then swatted an apple his direction from their cart’s inventory. It sailed just over his head, but he caught it in his claws. Spike nodded firmly, then scampered off across the market. “Sir!” Spike shouted. “Hey!” As soon as he know he’d caught the stallion’s attention, Spike put on his best dealing voice. “You, sir! You look like a pony who needs something to snack on after all this shopping, and have I got the treat for you!” Holding up the prized fruit, Spike announced, “Straight out of Sweet Apple Acres, I have with me one of the finest pieces of fruit in all of Equestria!” The pony sniffed the apple in Spike’s claw, but sneered at the offer. “I’ve always been a blueberry pony, myself,” he explained. “Blueberries?!” Spike scoffed. Suavely, he asked, “Can a blueberry match the crisp, firm texture of a ripe apple? Does a blueberry whet the appetite and leave its savory juice on your lips? Here, why don’t you give this a try?” He hoisted the apple proudly in front of the pony. “On me.” The pony examined the fruit before him. “Well, if you insist,” he said snidely. “I’m certainly not going to turn down anything that’s free.” He took the apple from Spike’s claw, considering it carefully. “Excellent.” Spike snickered, pointing his claws at the pony. “When you make up your mind, you know where to find us,” he said, backing away and vanishing into the crowded marketplace. As soon as he was out of sight, Spike turned and raced ba— WHUMP Spike slammed into a field of white. He staggered backwards, shaking off the impact. “Oh, my goodness!” the pony before him exclaimed. “Oh, my dear Spikey-wikey, I am ever so sorry. Are you quite alright?” Spike would know that voice anywhere. “Rarity?” he asked, his voice lifting with the beating of his heart. Before him stood the vision of loveliness he knew from his dreams. Her violet curls wound around her slender white neck, perfectly framing the curvature of her face. She wore a light blue hat tied around her chin with a teal ribbon and carried a straw basket with her magic. “That was quite the performance you just put on,” she said with a giggle. Each bounce of her laugh sounded like the ringing of a wind chime. His heart melted at the sound. “It’s a shame that one got away, but surely the next will more thoroughly appreciate your efforts.” “Yeah,” Spike said dreamily. “Appreciate my….” “You give it a minute,” Applejack said proudly. She sat on her haunches behind the stand, her forelegs resting on it. “Reckon that pony will be back in two shakes of a dog’s tail once he gets a taste of my harvest.” She tipped her hat. “Mornin’, Rares. I got your usual dozen all set to go.” “Thank you, Applejack. As always, you are the very image of punctuality.” She glanced down at Spike. “And I must say, it’s quite a surprise to see our little Spikey-wikey with you. And he’s doing such a good job, too!” Rarity said that. She said that. He was doing a good job. This was by far the greatest moment of his life. He couldn’t wait to tell Tw— …to tell…. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” Spike said. Somehow, Rarity’s praise just didn’t seem so exciting anymore. “Spike’s just bein’ modest,” Applejack said. “He’s got a real knack for this part of the work. Reckon we might have found a good place where he fits in the day to day.” Quietly, she added, “Twilight was right.” Before Applejack could get too lost in her thoughts, Rarity put a hoof against hers, snapping her back to reality. “She’ll be thrilled to see how you both are getting along,” Rarity said. “I’m certain of it, and our friend in the library thinks so as well.” “Speakin’ of,” Applejack started. “She’s adjusting,” Rarity answered. “Rainbow Dash and I have been working with her. I’m afraid she’s very disoriented by everything. Trying to build an identity from another pony’s life is….” Rarity hesitated, searching for words. “Why, I can’t even imagine what that must be like.” “That thing shouldn’t have stolen Twi’s life in the first place, then,” Applejack replied dismissively, prompting a miffed glare from Rarity. She hefted a bushel from the back of her wagon, carrying it towards the produce display. “By the by, you seen Apple Bloom around? Granny wants her home early so she can help peel the taters for tonight’s stew.” “Oh, Apple Bloom?” Rarity nervously bit her lip. “Sweetie Belle said she was having a rough day in class and I’m afraid she had an awful lot of homework. So she…well, you know, it is Thursday and Sweetie Belle says--” She flinched at the heavy thump from the bushel landing on the ground in front of the produce stand. “No,” Applejack sneered. “Well, you know how much Apple Bloom adores her,” Rarity pleaded. Applejack snapped straight into mission mode. “Spike, I gotta go. You’re in charge of the stand ‘til I get back,” she ordered. “And you know how much Twilight adores her as well,” Rarity argued. “I hardly think she needs a chaperone.” “Ain’t chaperonin’,” Applejack said bluntly. “This here’s a rescue mission.” She bolted across the market like a Timberwolf in pursuit of prey, straight for the cucumber stand across the way. “NO NO NO NO NO!!!” The vendor cried out, but Applejack kicked off and sailed straight over the stand, vanishing on the other side. “Applejack.” Rarity sighed in frustration. There truly was no convincing that pony as soon as her mind was set on something. How Twilight could put up with such determined stubbornness, she would never understand. “Um, excuse me?” A low, masculine voice interrupted. The stallion from before, dressed in his vest and leather saddlebags, stood just a few feet away from the cart. “Is this the stand for Sweet Apple Acres? That apple you gave me really opened my eyes. I’ve never tasted anything like it! I’d like a dozen, if I could.” Spike winked at Rarity. “Right this way, sir!” Deep inside the confines of the Golden Oak Library, everything was going according to plan. Twilight couldn’t help but grin, watching it all unfold before her. Twilight had laid the seeds, but it had been Apple Bloom that took the bait on each and every one of them. Piece by piece, step by step, she laid out the course. She’d set a trail of breadcrumbs to follow, and Apple Bloom, so eager to learn, had easily kept the pace. Twilight had given her just enough to make each piece seem like it had been Apple Bloom’s idea, and now she just had to put it all together. Within moments, the final step would come. “So then I reckon X would be…7?” she asked. “No, wait. 8. X is 8! ‘Cause Y and Z make 64, and the root of 64 is 8! So it’s 8, right?” “I don’t know,” Twilight said coyly. “Is it?” “Uh….” Apple Bloom went back over her equation once more, following each step of her solution. “It’s 8,” she said more confidently. “It’s gotta be. See, ‘cause Y’s a 4, so this part where you divide X by it and get a 2 wouldn’t make a lick of sense with 7. So I’m right.” Twilight took a sip from the illusory mug before her. She first generated a glow from her horn, then lifted the mug illusion to her lips to simulate the act of drinking tea. It wasn’t quite the same as using real magic, but the opportunity to practice sustaining and manipulating her illusion was welcome all the same. “It sounds to me like you don’t even need me to answer that.” “What?!” Panic erupted from Apple Bloom’s voice. “No no no, y’gotta tell me if it’s right! How else am I gonna know?!” “The same way you just showed me,” Twilight answered. “By doing it again. Repetition is the backbone of scientific study. You can’t just perform a trial once and then consider the results conclusive. You do it again and again, in different ways and from different angles. You experiment multiple times, and you build your--” SLAM The front door blew inwards in the wake of a panicked Applejack. She instantly swept up Apple Bloom in her hooves. “Apple Bloom!” she cried out. “Are y’hurt? Did she do anythin’ to you?” She pried open Apple Bloom’s jaw, asking, “She didn’t make y’eat nothin’ funny, did she?” Next, she pulled apart Apple Bloom’s forelegs, inspecting her thoroughly for injuries. Suddenly, Apple Bloom jerked her limbs away from her sister. “Land’s sakes, Applejack! I’m fine. What’s gotten into you?!” Ignoring the question, Applejack turned on Twilight. “What in tarnation do y’think you’re doin’ with her?!” “Math?” Twilight answered confusedly. “It’s Thursday. Apple Bloom always comes by to work on her homework.” Applejack was no stranger to Apple Bloom and Twilight’s weekly routine. In truth, she’d even been privy to some discussion in the past about expanding her weekly visits to Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, though the drama of recent events had put a hold on that conversation. But that was before. “That right?” Applejack asked. She looked down at her sister. “Run on home, Apple Bloom.” She scowled at the phantom wearing her special somepony’s image. “’Twilight’ and I got some things need to be set straight.” “What?!” Apple Bloom protested. “Y’can’t send me home! We ain’t even halfway finished yet!” “This ain’t up for debate,” Applejack said firmly. Pulling open Apple Bloom’s saddlebag, she started sweeping her sister’s notebooks and pens inside, shooting suspicious glances at Twilight. “You gonna give that over or do I gotta take it?” she asked of Apple Bloom’s textbook, resting in front of Twilight. “Y’can’t do this!” Apple Bloom pleaded. Twilight picked up the book, holding it gingerly with her force barrier. Lifting things was almost trivially easy, she’d found. A force field levitated the object while her illusion created an image around it. The field didn’t even need to be the same shape or size as the illusion; in truth, once she knew how to do it, she found it had more in common with her levitation spell than physically touching the item in question. “Your sister is right,” she said to Applejack, holding the book. “There’s no reason for this hostility.” “How ‘bout you let me worry about my sister,” Applejack replied coldly. “I was just trying to help,” Twilight explained. “That right? You jumpin’ in right now, in the middle of all this, you think that’s helpin’ anypony? You think you bein’ around is makin’ this any easier for….” Applejack’s eyes burned with white-hot fury. Twilight couldn’t remember ever seeing her so angry before. Then she looked at her sister, eyes still pleading for some explanation of why she was acting like this. Quietly, she asked the phantom, “You want to do this? Fine. You gonna tell her? Or do I gotta?” “Tell her what?” Twilight asked. “I don’t understand what you’re so upset about.” “Is this about the rock thing?” Apple Bloom asked. Applejack froze. At Apple Bloom’s question, her anger broke. She found herself standing in the middle of the library, shoveling school supplies into her sister’s backpack while ignoring her desperate cries to stop. In that moment, she was suddenly vividly aware of how bad she looked. She could see herself through Apple Bloom’s eyes, and in that instant, she looked completely unreasonable. She dared even say she looked mean. “Is that what you thought?” Twilight cringed, squeezing the textbook to her chest. “You actually thought I would lie about something like this? To Apple Bloom?” “I….” “Do you know what I did as soon as she came through that door? I told her everything. Every word. I even told her the parts that were hard to say, because I knew how much the truth matters to YOU!” Twilight shoved the textbook at Applejack, who caught it in her forelegs. When she lowered it, water had emerged from the corners of Twilight’s illusionary eyes. “Why are you doin’ this to me?” Applejack asked, squeezing the book to her chest. “Why couldn’t you just send her home?” “Because this isn’t about you!” Twilight snapped at her. “When she came in, I wasn’t thinking about you at all. I was thinking about her future. Apple Bloom has amazing potential. You know that; we’ve talked about this before. She could be the first Apple to attend a university!” “Nothin’ would make me prouder.” Those words echoed in Applejack’s mind. They were an affirmation from a happier time, before their lives had changed so dramatically. It seemed so long ago that she’d stood here with Twilight, the real Twilight, and witnessed the light of her sister’s future shining down. Apple Bloom had every chance in the world to be what she couldn’t and to live the life she never managed to attain. Apple Bloom could be the daughter her Mama wanted all along. Applejack set the textbook on the table. She felt at once horribly guilty, but still apprehensive for her sister’s safety. “I’m sorry, Apple Bloom,” she said, trying not to look at the construct. Keeping Twilight’s image out of sight made it easier not to think about how right she sounded. “I mean it. But y’know what she did to us.” “Of course, I know! I was there for that!” the filly retorted. “Big Mac and I helped Twilight save all’a y’all. But she don’t even remember doin’ any of that!” “I’m just tryin’ to keep you from gettin’ hurt,” Applejack admitted. Apple Bloom looked her sister in the eyes. “Would Twilight ever hurt me?” she asked. “…Apple Bloom, that ain’t Twilight.” Applejack swallowed hard, trying to find the words to explain this. “Least, it ain’t the Twilight we know. I don’t even know how much of our Twilight she’s got in her.” She looked back up at the construct, which had shrank into herself defensively. “I just don’t know if it’s safe.” “Then why don’t you stay and find out?” Twilight suggested a little too eagerly. Getting Applejack to spend any length of time around her had been next to impossible. Here at last was the opportunity she’d longed for. “We still have half an hour at least before we’ll be finished with Apple Bloom’s math. I was planning to move on to her potion studies from here. We’d love for you to join us.” After a couple seconds, she added, “It’d be a rare opportunity, as well. She’s been dying to show you some of her potion work.” “Please, sis,” Apple Bloom begged. Applejack sighed. There was no arguing with those eyes, especially not after the scene she’d just made. “Alright, sugarcube. You win. But just for a couple hours, then Granny’s gonna need you home.” “Thank you so much,” Twilight said. “You won’t regret this, I promise.” “So it’s true,” Twilight said. “Fluttershy really did start the fighting.” Five feet away, Fluttershy lay on her left side, wrapped under a light blue blanket. To comfort her head, she’d outstretched her wing, using the feathers as a pillow. Flash gripped a stick in his teeth, stirring the fire. The flames flickered and threw off sparks, lighting up the slumbering forms of Trixie and Sunset Shimmer as well. Once he was satisfied with the size of the fire, he set the stick to the side. It had been a long day for everypony. “It wasn’t much of a surprise to anypony,” he said, answering Twilight. “Tensions were already pretty high in the Empire. Rarity had been pressuring Applejack to disband for moons.” “All because of Tirek,” Twilight said, following the logic chain. “What was Tirek? That doesn’t sound like a pony’s name. In fact, before I came here, I’d never even heard it before.” “Nopony knows,” Flash said, throwing his forelegs up in consternation. “To this day, not one pony in Equestria has any idea who this guy was or what he wanted. He just showed up in the middle of that last great battle and murdered Princess Celestia. The only reason we even know his name is because the Acting Princess heard her say it.” “Really?” Twilight looked up in thought. “I suppose Princess Celestia does tend to keep a lot of things to herself. She’s surprised me a few times with some task or another involving a creature or place I’d never even heard of. But I can’t imagine she’d keep something so dangerous from me.” “I don’t think she ever envisioned not being here to run the kingdom,” Flash suggested. “But I don’t know. It’s possible that even she didn’t know that was coming. Some of the stallions in the Guard think Tirek was supposed to be some kind of secret changeling project to make this kind of evil super-bug with all kinds of strange powers and magic. Queen Chrysalis was doing a lot of weird stuff in Canterlot. Most of it’s buried in the rubble, though.” “Maybe.” Twilight wasn’t sure if she believed that story, but she didn’t have any other ideas either. “But then how would she know his name?” Flash shrugged. Twilight sighed. That was probably the most she was going to get out of this topic. “Okay, but then why go after the Shield of Harmony? If the Changeling War was so horrible, then it sounds like you could have used any help you could get. Celestia forbid, if anything like that happened to my Equestria, we’d welcome everypony’s assistance.” “It’s not that simple,” Flash answered. “No offense, but I think it is.” She held up her forelegs, closing her hooves on each other. “Different groups of ponies coming together in friendship is how Equestria was built. Without cooperation from unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies, we never would have had the kingdom we all grew to love.” Flash chuckled, earning a scowl from Twilight. “What’s funny about that?” she asked flatly. “It’s nothing,” he said, smiling. “It’s just that Fluttershy likes to talk about that too. She loves that old faerie tale about the first Hearth’s Warming. She likes to say that we need to work together and cherish each other again, or we’re never going to make it. It’s just…it’s weird to hear that coming from…well, from Twilight Sparkle. Princess Twilight Sparkle, even.” “Am I really that awful?” Twilight asked. “I’m probably not the right guy to answer that.” Flash looked into the fire, watching the flames dance. “Look, when I enlisted, you were Princess Celestia’s protégé. Nopony really knew what to make of you, but we all had a lot of respect for the way you defeated Nightmare Moon. You outranked each and every one of us, but you treated us with respect. Although you didn’t make much of a secret about the fact that you hated the Shield.” “I did?” “Pretty much from the start, yeah. At least when I was around, you never missed a chance to make a sarcastic comment about them. You called them a bunch of small-town crazy ponies trying to get themselves killed, and you said they’d be safer if they went home and left securing Equestria to the ponies who’ve been trained for it. Now, I don’t know what happened in Ponyville, but I know that you didn’t like talking about it.” “All the ponies in this town are CRAZY!!!” Twilight shrieked from her lofty perch. The soft mattress of her bed provided little comfort, and the pillow over her head was less than suitable for its task of blocking out the ear-splitting sounds of obnoxious townies partying in the library below. “Do you know what time it is?!” she demanded of her companion on the floor below. “It’s the eve of the Summer Sun Celebration,” Spike said enthusiastically. “Everypony has to stay up or they’ll miss the Princess raising the sun!” Twilight snorted, returning her attention to the sky outside her window. Spike sighed. “You really should lighten up, Twilight,” he suggested. “It’s a party.” Twilight bitterly pantomimed Spike’s ridiculous words while he left. He had no idea what he was talking about. None of these ponies did, and their feckless distractions were going to keep her from solving this problem. Frustrated, she dropped her pillow and laid her head back against the mattress. “Ugh!” she said to nopony in particular. “Here I thought I’d have time to learn more about the Elements of Harmony but, silly me, all this ridiculous friend-making has kept me from it!” “I think I have some idea,” Twilight replied sorrowfully. “Yeah, I’m sure you do,” Flash replied. “Whatever your reasons were, you made no secret of how much you hated the Shield. Then, after what happened to you at the Clinic, you were on a warpath by the next morning. You had bandages covering your face and neck and three doctors trailing you when you made us march to the training camp on the outskirts of the Empire, screaming at us to arrest everypony wearing applewood barding.” Twilight put her hoof to her neck. She’d felt the scars for herself; she knew how real they were. Still, she could scarcely imagine them. It broke her heart to think of Spike, her faithful assistant and beloved friend, turning his flame on her like that. So much had to go wrong here in order to make that happen. And then, just like that, the one creature in all Equestria she could trust was gone. “I must have felt so alone,” Twilight muttered. “Uh, sure,” Flash said, awkwardly glancing to the side. “I mean, you made us set a hospital on fire and threatened of the kindest, gentlest souls in Equestria with violence. But we can go with ‘lonely’.” Twilight said nothing. She didn’t have a response to that. The more she learned, the harder it became to understand her choices in this world, let alone to defend them. Flash took a moment to stir the fire once more. “Can you grab another log?” he asked. Twilight stood, braving the cold outside the fire’s immediate vicinity to reach the lumber pile behind her. “Anyways, you took us down to the training grounds, but by that point, the Shield was already gone. Applejack must have gotten word about what was happening. Don’t know how, but she did. Some of the colts like to say she’s got a spy planted somewhere.” “And that’s how the fighting started?” Twilight asked, hoisting up a pair of logs with her right foreleg. Her magic wouldn’t return for another few hours, and already she was feeling the anticipation to use her levitation spell again. Truthfully, she didn’t know how earth ponies and pegasi got around without magic. It had been exhausting and unpleasant since the moment the spell was placed on her. “The war started that same day,” Flash answered. “The report came in that afternoon. The Shield attacked a depot just west of Las Pegasus. The royal family gave the order to arrest Shieldmares on sight. No negotiation, no hesitation, and no exceptions. Applejack and every single pony who followed her were declared public enemies and a threat to Equestria’s peace.” “What about Rarity?” Twilight asked. “Rarity wasn’t a Shieldmare by then,” Flash explained. “She’d hung up her barding moons before, around the same time she started telling Applejack to throw in the towel. Nopony was really surprised; we got to know Rarity pretty well. She’d been the Shieldmares’ liaison with Canterlot before the war. She was kind of like the public face for Applejack’s militia.” “And that was good enough?” Twilight asked. “Anypony who’d hung up her shield before Clinic Everfree was considered to not be involved. Pinkie Pie’s going to be your other big name there, plus a few others I don’t really know. That brother of Applejack’s is another. But the Acting Princess wanted any pony actively serving when all that went down to be brought back in chains.” He watched Twilight drop a log into the fire, setting the other to the side. “That was the day we all went back to war.” “When I was impersonating…uh…myself, Shining Armor insisted that it’s not a war,” Twilight corrected. “He would say that.” Flash picked up his stick, coaxing the flames towards the new log. Once he was satisfied with the fire licking the log’s side, he returned the stick to its place. “The Royal Family refuses to declare it. They’re trying to cover up everything. They’ve got Pinkie Pie out there saying Applejack’s group are just a small group of bandits and that the Royal Guard has this all under control.” “Don’t they?” Twilight asked. “We are talking about the Royal Guard. My friends and I have been through more than a few rough scrapes, but that’s not exactly what we’re talking about here. How dangerous can a handful of ponies wearing applewood be against the pride of Canterlot?” Flash shook his head. “You don’t get it. The Shield of Harmony were right there through the entire war, fighting the changelings just like we were. But they didn’t have our numbers, our weapons, or any real armor. That means they got really good at thinking like a small fighting force. They’re mobile and they move fast, hitting a target before it even knows what’s coming and then vanishing into Celestia-knows-where.” “We don’t have a way to deal with that?” Twilight asked. It was an earnest question; she’d never really considered the logistics of fighting a war in Equestria before. “I thought the Wonderbolts were supposed to….” She drifted off, recognizing the answer to her suggestion before Flash could even say it. “Oh, they are,” Flash replied. “The Wonderbolts are supposed to be able to get anywhere in Equestria and hold the line long enough for the Guard to sweep in and overwhelm the target. But there’s this one Shieldmare who’s an absolute beast in the air.” “Rainbow Dash,” Twilight whispered. “They call her the Terror of the Sky. The Wonderbolts are the best of the best when it comes to flying, but even they’ve never seen anything like this pegasus. She’s got old veterans with decades of training, ponies who fought and survived on the front lines of the Changeling War, flinching at the sight of a rainbow.” Twilight remembered the explosion of light in the distance. She’d barely even had enough time to process what was happening before Spitfire was throwing herself at the oncoming streak of light and destruction. The shockwave of a near-miss had almost thrown her from the carriage, and she still didn’t know if Spitfire was okay. “And it gets worse,” Flash continued. “Throughout the war, you insisted on keeping the Shield out of the fighting as much as possible. Right up until the Battle of Canterlot, we handled most of the fighting ourselves while the Shield stuck to a hit and run harassment campaign. That meant we took the brunt of the losses. The Royal Guard was decimated by this war, but Applejack came out of it with most of the ponies she started out with.” Twilight took a deep breath, absorbing all of this information. “So what you’re telling me is that she has better tactics, more ponies, a way to shut down our eyes in the sky, and she’s raiding bases for weapons and armor that can even the field. That’s…wow, okay.” Twilight took a deep breath, processing all of this. “That is a lot different from the way Pinkie Pie makes it sound.” “The Royal Family would never admit it,” Flash said. “But there’s a very real chance that Applejack might win this thing. And if she does, what happens then? I don’t even know what Equestria would look like with a usurper taking her throne by force. Honestly, I don’t want to know.” He looked at Fluttershy, watching her side rise and fall with her breathing. “All I want is to get her away from all of this. Maybe we could leave Equestria and try our luck somewhere outside the border. It has to be better out there, right?” Twilight didn’t have an answer for that either. “I’ve never been outside Equestria’s borders,” she said. “But I can tell that you care a lot about her,” she said. “Of course, I do,” Flash said. He reached out with a hoof, brushing Fluttershy’s slumbering ear. “She gave me something to believe in again. Look, Equestria’s gone and it’s not coming back. Everything that was ever great about it, it all died with Princess Celestia. I took the oath when I enlisted, same as anypony, but there’s nothing left here to protect.” He stared solemnly into the flickering flames. “I didn’t want to admit it, but after what I saw at Clinic Everfree, I knew it was true. It’s over. Equestria’s over. This kingdom lost its soul trying to fight off the changelings, and now all that’s left are vultures picking over the carcass.” “…and then Fluttershy happened?” Twilight asked, trying to make the connection. “Her work happened,” he explained. “Helping her out at Bridle Rock made me feel like I was doing something worthwhile for the first time in moons. She brought back some of the magic. I don’t know how she does it, but when I’m with her, it feels like a piece of the Equestria I love is still there. She inspires me to believe there might actually be something good left in this kingdom. I guess this is what it feels like to be in love.” He laughed nervously. “Awww!” Twilight beamed, putting a hoof to her heart. Ever since her relationship with Applejack had taken off, she’d found that nothing warmed her heart like the rush of two ponies getting together for the first time. “That’s so sweet,” she said. “It’s not, but that’s sweet.” “Wait, what?” “I mean, it’s great that you’re interested in her,” Twilight said. “Like I said the other night, you really should go for it. I mean, the prison issue isn’t stopping you now, and I think you two would make a great couple.” “No, stop,” Flash said, frustration slipping into his voice. “Go back. What do you mean, it’s not love?” “Oh, that.” Twilight took a moment to think about how to say this. “Well, you obviously like her and that’s very sweet of you. But it’s not love. It’s more like the first chapter.” She sighed. “I’m probably not the best pony to talk about this,” she admitted. “My Special Somepony, Applejack--” “I still can’t believe that actually came out of your snout,” Flash commented. “Between the chaos thing and the other Equestria, I think that’s the most unbelievable part of your story. If I hadn’t seen what I saw back in Bridle Rock, I’d probably be calling horseapples on your whole story based on those words alone.” “It’s a day full of surprises,” Twilight said through gritted teeth. “Anyways. Applejack and I haven’t exactly been in a good place lately, but I still remember what it felt like when it was good. Love is more than just thinking a pony has good ideas and liking how you feel when she’s around.” Twilight took a deep breath, remembering the way her heart would flutter every time she heard that word, “Sugarcube.” “When I’m with her, it’s like I feel every motion she makes. When she’s hurt or she’s hungry or she’s happy, I feel it. And then she feels me feeling it. And then we turn into this irrational feedback loop of feeling each other feeling the other’s feelings! Does that make sense?” “Not even a little bit,” Flash answered. “And when she’s not around, I crave her. Since we started fighting, I’ve barely even been able to focus on my studies. A stray thought goes out to her, and then she’s all I can think about. She isn’t even there, and I still have to fight her for control of my own brain.” “That sounds like an addiction.” “Love is an addiction! It’s ridiculous and it’s illogical and sometimes you get your heart ripped out and stomped on by all of your friends and find out your Special Somepony dated had a bunch of other Special Someponies before you and you know that shouldn’t bother you but it does. It does. And it means that maybe you aren’t very special to her after all if you’re just the replacement for the replacement for the replacement, and you start to wonder about what the pony who replaces you is going to be like and….” Flash awkwardly glanced at the fire, then back up to Twilight. “Do you, uh, need a hug?” “What? No, I’m….” It was at that moment that Twilight realized she was crying. She sniffled, using her hoof to wipe away her tears. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. She cleared her throat, trying to calm her nerves. “Love is complicated.” “I can tell.” He sat in silence with Twilight for a minute, trying to find his way back to the topic at hoof. But after that display, there wasn’t really a lot coming to mind. One minute turned to the next and the only sound that filled the cave was the crackle of the fire. Finally, he suggested, “Do you want to lie down for a bit? You look pretty tired. I can make sure the fire keeps burning.” “You know what, that’s probably a good idea,” Twilight admitted. “Thank you. Once my magic comes back, I’ll probably get back to trying to make my way home, so I don’t know how long I’m going to be here. But for what it’s worth, I hope you and Fluttershy can find that place you’re looking for.” “Thank you,” Flash said. “I hope you can get things figured out too. You’re not bad for a violent, paranoid despot.” “You haven’t seen my bad side,” Twilight joked. “With all due respect, your highness, I have seen more of your bad side than I ever care to see again.” “Thank you for giving me this chance,” Twilight said. “It’s an unusual situation for everypony, I know. This isn’t exactly optimal for me either. But I thought that, even if there wasn’t anything else I could do, Apple Bloom shouldn’t have to pay for what happened.” She sat in silence for a few seconds, trying to find her words. “…I know, intellectually, that these are just feelings I inherited, but they feel real to me. Apple Bloom is part of that. She’s like the little sister I never had.” The evening light cast its orange glow on Twilight’s face, framing her features. She was still as pretty as she’d been on the day she came to Ponyville, and that made this conversation so much harder. Her mannerisms and turns of phrase were all the same. These were mannerisms that Applejack had fallen in love with, and she didn’t know how strong she could be in the face of them. Apple Bloom had left minutes ago. Applejack asked her to help Spike pack up the wagon and get it back to the farm so that she could have this moment to talk to Twilight’s illusion. But her leaving meant that they were now alone, and that made it so much harder to remember that the pony in front of her was a lie. Those purple eyes gleaming with curiosity and hope were a lie. That smell of…. Well, actually, she didn’t smell like anything. That was the one saving grace that helped keep Applejack in the right frame of mind. Twilight’s smell usually changed from day to day. She woke to a meticulous hygiene schedule that Applejack was sure was timed down to the millisecond, but that was before she tackled her day. From there, Twilight’s hide would either spend its day gathering dust and spores from old, sometimes ancient books or collecting odors from whatever activity she was pursuing with laserlike focus that day. At the start of any given day, Twilight’s scent was so sanitized that a pony could mistake her for one of Rarity’s fashionistas. But she was messy and often didn’t pay much care to what she was doing when she had a task on her mind. By the time the sun went down, the day’s events were caked in her skin. It never bothered Applejack; she was sure she didn’t smell any better after a hard day of working in the sun, after all. But there was definitely a distinctive smell to Twilight that a pony could notice if they had a chance to get close enough. By contrast, the illusion was a void in her sense of smell. It was one of the few true indicators that Twilight wasn’t really standing there in front of her. She clung to that, holding it up as a reminder of what manner of being she was speaking with. “I still ain’t made up my mind whether I can be okay with this,” Applejack told her. “I don’t reckon you’re gonna get it on account of you bein’ an evil magic spell and all, but Apple Bloom means the world to me. There ain’t nopony in this life matters more. Not Granny, not my brother, not even Twilight.” “I know,” Twilight replied. “And the other Twilight knows that too. She’d never do anything to hurt Apple Bloom, and of course that means I wouldn’t either.” She inched closer, setting a hoof down on Applejack’s. Applejack jerked her foreleg away. “Beg pardon, but I don’t know that I buy that.” Twilight looked initially hurt by the rejection, but then she nodded, thinking back. “That’s right,” she said. “You weren’t here with the others when we talked about the spell.” This caught Applejack’s attention. “Y’all worked out what happened to Twilight?” “Twilight? No, I meant this spell.” She held up her hoof. The air shimmered at the end of it, revealing the pulsing red stone. “I’ve been researching the enchantment and trying to cross-reference it with a few volumes I have on self-perpetuating magic. Of course, this was created through chaos magic, so the principles aren’t exactly the same, but I think I have some understanding of it now.” “That right?” Applejack asked. “Well, Discord created this enchantment to set him free if something went wrong. When he activated it, it was supposed to clone him. He made a copy of his own consciousness, which became embedded in the rock.” “Right,” Applejack replied. “And that became Cardinal.” “Well, no,” Twilight said. “It became Tom. And then Tom started watching us, waiting for his moment to strike, learning everything he could about who we are and what we do. He was there, lurking somewhere, through many of the events in our lives. And I think he was learning from us. In a way, we shaped him and Cardinal was the result of that.” Twilight shuddered at the thought. “In fact, I think he became obsessed with us.” “He did, did he?” Applejack asked pointedly. Twilight looked at the stone, then smiled sheepishly. “Well…okay, right. Right. I became obsessed with all of you, probably. I don’t actually remember any of that. I mean, I do, but I remember being Twilight through it. When the Elements of Harmony hit…uh…me, it smashed the enchantment up pretty badly. Everything he was seems to be gone. I wouldn’t know where to begin repairing the damage even if I wanted to.” “Uh-huh.” Applejack wasn’t sure how much of that she actually believed. “In any case, I think what Cardinal was really after was just us. Not the Elements or Discord or even ruling Equestria. I think he just wanted to own us. I know it sounds weird, but my hypothesis is that it was the only way he could understand wanting to be our friend.” Applejack opened her mouth to say something, but Twilight quickly added, “And I know that sounds self-serving, but I should clarify: that was actually Twilight’s hypothesis from before all this happened.” “That right?” “There was something he said,” Twilight explained. “It always bothered me. After I hit him with the counterspell, Cardinal said, and I quote, ‘Twilight, you have to get up. I didn’t mean it.’ That Cardinal tried to apologize to me when he thought I’d been seriously hurt never sat right with me. Instead of trying to retake control of the situation, he actually seemed to be worried that he might have hurt me.” Applejack narrowed her eyes. “Am I supposed to feel bad for the guy ‘cause his idea of makin’ friends was to break us all up and make us worship him?” “No, of course not,” Twilight clarified. “What Cardinal did was indefensible. He needed to be stopped and he was. It was the best possible outcome given the circumstances at the time. But I don’t think he ever actually meant to hurt us. At least, not physically. With Discord governing his moral compass, I think he just couldn’t figure out any other way to be our friend. And after what happened in the human world, I…or, at least, Twilight couldn’t help but wonder if there might have been another way we could have handled that.” “Right,” Applejack said coldly. She hated how much sense the phantom was making. The last thing she needed was to start feeling bad about the way that situation had played out. She and each of her friends were the victims in all of this, after all. It wasn’t their job to start teaching everypony how to make friends, was it? Besides, she still hadn’t answered the most important question. “So what’s all this got to do with you turnin’ into Twilight?” “It’s the spell,” Twilight explained. “After we broke the enchantment, it started drawing magic energy from its surroundings to sustain itself. The damage was too extensive for it to reactivate on its own, so it went dormant. When she tried to examine it, the enchantment must have activated, and it did what it was created to do: it scanned its creator and copied her identity. That’s how I was created: a fresh new start for Tom.” This did make sense in Applejack’s mind. It was, if nothing else, at least feasible. There was a whole lot of magic mumbo-jumbo mixed into it, but she could still see the ins and outs of how it was supposed to work. One thing stuck out, though. “You said it didn’t get the personality quite right,” she noted. “Cardinal ain’t exactly a dead-ringer for Discord.” “Right, but that was before,” Twilight said. “Do you remember where we left Tom? My theory is that the stone’s been drawing magic from the Mirror Pool to sustain itself, and it may have incorporated some of the Pool’s properties. When Pinkie used the Mirror Pool, the resulting clones were able to duplicate her personality, but they didn’t have the memories or context for it. But with the Mirror Pool’s enchantment to provide the personality and Discord’s for memories….” “They’d make a perfect copy,” Applejack concluded, following Twilight’s train of thought. “And that’s me: a flawless reproduction of Twilight Sparkle.” Proudly, she held her head high. “At least, in theory. But, of course….” She flicked her horn with a hoof. “Still no magic. Borrowing a few principles from the Mirror Pool can’t fix the fact that the Twilight Sparkle standing here is a hollow frame produced by a light kinetic barrier, cloaked in a fabricated image.” “Right.” Applejack knew she needed time to process this. It all sounded right and she couldn’t think of anything necessarily wrong with it. Moreover, part of her even wanted to believe it. The idea that Twilight was still here in some form, was still—was she getting closer? Twilight picked up Applejack’s hoof with her own and set it against her heart. The stone pulsed within her chest, creating the thrumming feel of a heartbeat. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I mean, if you think about it, I’m still in here. The real Twilight Sparkle is a critical part of me.” “That right?” Applejack asked. Her body itched with discomfort at Twilight’s proximity. “And I know we’ve been having problems lately,” Twilight said, wrapping her foreleg around the hoof to squeeze it. There was a warmth to her touch that unnerved Applejack; it wasn’t perfect, but it still reproduced the feel of Twilight’s true hoof reasonably well. “But I want you to know that I’m here for you, like I should have been all along.” By now, it was clear what the construct wanted. In truth, it was something Applejack had wanted for weeks, but this wasn’t how she’d wanted it. Certainly not like this. The desire in the construct’s eyes and the feel of it against her hoof didn’t inspire the same craving desire that she felt in every moment with Twilight. She knew she needed to pull her hoof away, to reject this. But she didn’t. Deep down inside, a part of her didn’t care. This was more attention than Twilight had shown her since their terrible fight, and even if it wasn’t real, it still touched along the edges of her heart. “And I need you to know that I do still love you,” Twilight said. She was closer now, and Applejack could feel the other foreleg tracing down her side in just the right spot to send a pleasing shiver through her body. “I don’t even know why we’re still fighting. I mean, I do, but it just seems silly now.” “Does it?” Applejack asked, feeling her blood warm. “I shouldn’t have been keeping you at hoof’s length,” she said, bringing her snout in close to Applejack’s. “Having to be apart from you like this showed me that. Being away from you made me realize how much I wanted to be right here with you.” Her eyes held on Applejack’s, whose heart beat faster at having her so close. “Twilight….” “Can you forgive me?” Twilight whispered. Her nose touched against Applejack’s. The passion in her eyes warmed Applejack’s heart, making her feel wanted in a way she hadn’t in a long time. The thrumming feel under her hoof, still pressed to Twilight’s chest, captivated her. She could feel the desire in Twilight’s body. She could see the need gleaming in her eyes and smell the— … “Twilight, stop,” Applejack said, breaking away from her. She pushed the construct back away. “I can’t do this.” “Why not?” Twilight asked, clearly distraught by Applejack’s rejection. “’Cause it ain’t right,” Applejack said. “I’m with Twilight. The real Twilight. It ain’t been good for a while now, but I still love her and I want to make it work. You’re askin’ me to be unfaithful to her when all I’ve been wantin’ is for her to see how faithful I can be.” “No, I’m not,” Twilight said, glowering. “Look at this logically. I’m Twilight. I have a perfect facsimile of her memories and personality. It’s not like I’m asking you to cheat on her. I basically am her. I’m sure she’d understand that because, hey, she’s me and I’ve got a pre-t-ty good idea of how I think.” “Nah, sugarcube,” Applejack said. “Y’might look like her and talk like her and even think like her, but there ain’t none of that’s real.” “Applejack, please,” Twilight begged. “I miss you.” “I miss you too, sugar,” Applejack replied. “I’ve been missin’ you a long time now. But this right here? It ain’t right. It ain’t real and it sure ain’t bein’ honest.” She looked right into Twilight’s purple eyes. “And I can’t be with a lie.” The room fell deathly quiet. Applejack broke eye contact, looking towards the door. “I should get goin’.” “Right,” Twilight said quietly, keeping her gaze low and away from Applejack. “You, uh…y’have a good evenin’,” Applejack uttered awkwardly, letting herself out. “You too,” Twilight said dejectedly. The door clicked, leaving her alone in the library. She collapsed against the shelf beside her. She let out a defeated sigh. “Thank you for your honesty.”