//------------------------------// // 6. Magic and Pure Imagination // Story: Written in the Stars // by Carapace //------------------------------// Morning came all too soon for Twilight Sparkle, and brought with it the feeling of cobwebs lingering in her head. She blinked owlishly and let out a tired mumble as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Twilight could swear her ears were still ringing from the noises—both from the party itself and Pinkie Pie’s babbling as she cleaned up. A year ago, she thought with a wry smile, I would’ve done everything in my power to avoid that party, short of making it an official decree. With an amused chuckle, so rolled out of bed and landed lightly on her hooves. The soft carpet tickled her frogs as she glanced around the little loft on the second floor of the library. Her loft. Her library. Her seat of power. Her home. From the warm wood floors to the living tree that housed her new dwelling, it stirred memories of her family’s modest home in Canterlot. Twilight glanced at the spare bed Shining had pulled out of the storage closet and enlarged just enough that he could cuddle with Cadence while they slept. A smile stole its way across her face. They looked like the perfect couple, messy manes, sleepy smiles, and all. An image of herself laying with Rarity leapt to the forefront of her mind. How wonderful it would be to hold the smaller mare in her hooves and hug her tight, draping a wing around delicate shoulders while she nuzzled into the crook of Rarity’s neck. Or perhaps her ears. Twilight shook her head. Distractions! Not unwelcome, mind, but distractions nonetheless! There were things to be done. Like dealing with how woefully understocked her library was. Her smile faltered. She could understand Golden Oaks Library being on the smaller side—at a glance, Ponyville was on the smaller side, even for a farm town—but the idea that it was stocked with a mere two bookshelves on the ground floor and another in the librarian’s loft was simply … bothersome. To put it diplomatically. Huffing out a calming sigh through her nose, Twilight trotted into the bathroom to freshen herself up for the day. A quick shower and brush job had her looking resplendent. Not a lock of her mane or patch of coat out of place. After a quick check in the mirror to make certain of her job well done, she headed downstairs to rustle up some breakfast for herself in the kitchen. As she descended the stairs, her eyes swept over the ground level, taking in her new domain with a smile. A glimpse of snow white coat and royal purple mane made her do a double take. Twilight stopped on the bottom step, with her hoof raised in mid stride. Rarity’s chest rose and fell as she slept on. Her head laid on a throw pillow propped against the hoof rest, a single blue blanket covered her lower half. A quick glance to the opposite side of the room yielded a pair of empty chairs. The fillies were nowhere to be found. The last vestiges of the cobwebs clouding her thoughts cleared. Rarity had sent the fillies home with their parents some two hours before her welcoming party ended, while she insisted that she remain. After all, she was Twilight’s mare-in-waiting. What use would she be if she were halfway across town when Twilight needed to call upon her? Or so she claimed. Thus, Rarity opted to sleep on the couch. A move that made Twilight’s feathers bristle. If not for a horribly futile argument about royals sleeping in proper beds and how “improper” it would be for Rarity to allow her to sleep on the couch, arrangements would have been quite different. Besides, it wasn’t like she could ask Cadence and Shining to surrender their borrowed bed, or allow another to huddle against them. If she’s going to stay here, like a real mare-in-waiting would stay in the castle, this isn’t going to stand. A sly smile spread across her face as an idea came to mind. That could work nicely. And I have just the right book to consult at home, which will take care of my small library problem too. Casting one last look down at Rarity, Twilight fluffed her feathers. Her tail swished gaily. The slumbering mare would sure be surprised, of that there was no doubt. Although, there was the issue of her waking before Twilight returned. A risk she would just have to take. Twilight turned to trot into the kitchen, eager to prepare her teleport spell so she could put her plan to action. But she paused, glancing back at the smile gracing Rarity’s lips. If she were so bold, she could steal a kiss right then and there. And maybe a soft nuzzle to her ears. Twilight shook her head. No, that wouldn’t be right. That would be taking advantage of her. Why, she didn’t even know if Rarity felt the same. She trotted into the kitchen and readied her teleportation spell. Stolen kisses and nuzzles, and all the lovely little couples’ things she saw Shining Armor enjoy with Cadence could wait for Rarity’s consent—if she even gave it at all. Twilight could be patient and understanding of others’ feelings. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t hold just the slightest bit of hope that her gift might just earn her a little peck, purely by flight of fancy. “At very least,” she muttered, “Rarity’ll be more comfortable than she is on that couch.” In a flash and a snap of air filling the emptied space, she teleported far away from Golden Oak Library. Rarity cursed sleeping on couches when she woke. She mumbled as she sat up straight, pushing the modest blanket aside while she arched her back to work out the stiffness. Proper or not, sleeping on a couch was most certainly not beneficial to her health. A sore back and neck would make accompanying a princess to social functions rather difficult, after all. Something to address after Twilight was settled in, she decided. Perhaps she could ask to sleep in the spare bed once Princess Cadence and Shining Armor departed for home. Granted there was the issue of where the bed would be placed, but the details could be hashed out later. A disbelieving voice floated from the kitchen. Shining Armor’s, she realized. “You seriously brought everything? Enchantments or not, how’re you going to fit them in this little library?” “That, oh brother of mine, is what my runes textbooks are for,” Twilight replied casually. “Now quiet down and eat your pancakes. I worked hard on them. And Cadence, why is he so thin? Don’t you two have chefs in the Crystal Empire?” “He trains like he thinks he’s a frontline legionnaire,” Princess Cadence drawled. “Believe me, I’ve tried, and am still working on it.” Rarity slid off the couch and padded toward the kitchen. The smell of fresh pancakes and oats greeted her, drawing her to the source like a bee to a flower’s sweet nectar. Her stomach growled a natural demand to be filled. She stepped through the open doorway to find a small kitchen with a two burner stove, an old sink, an icebox, and round table just big enough to seat four. The three Royals sat around it. Princess Cadence sat closest to Shining Armor, who had his back facing the door. Her brows furrowed as she hovered a bowl of oatmeal near his muzzle and demanded he eat, to which he simply rolled his eyes and sipped at his coffee before turning back to the newspaper in his hoof. However, a pink glow engulfed the bowl and gently tugged it free of the shimmering cerulean, then set it down beside a plate of half eaten pancakes. “I said I’d eat!” he chided, amusement evident in his voice. “Gosh, it’s like you think I’m going to stick it beneath the table for a dog to lick clean when you’re not looking! And we don’t even have a dog!” Rarity smiled and looked at the mare across from him. Twilight fixed him with a look that could’ve curdled milk, frowning when he didn’t so much as flinch. With a long-suffering sigh, she shook her head and sipped at her coffee. Her eyes flitted toward the door and promptly lit up like the sun. “Good morning, Rarity,” she said brightly. “Hungry?” Her heart skipped a beat. If Rarity didn’t know better, she’d think … no. That was silly. She was a mare from a tiny little farming town, Twilight was a brilliant mage and a princess. Fairytales were nice, but they weren’t real. “Starving,” she replied, the sleep finally cleared from her head. Rarity approached the table and took the seat on Twilight’s right. She let her eyes sweep over the table, her ears perked as she saw the stack of golden-brown pancakes and bowl of oatmeal awaiting her, kept warm by a raspberry glow. “My word, it looks delicious. Who made this?” “I did,” Twilight replied with a happy fluffing of her feathers. “You?” Blinking, Rarity furrowed her brows. All those fairytales about the princesses in far off castles took a knife through the middle of their covers. “But—” “Rarity, please. Just because I’m a princess doesn’t mean I don’t know my way around a kitchen. Cadence makes some of the best Istallion food in all of Equestria—” “Aside from Auntie Celestia,” Princess Cadence cut across her with a laugh. “And no pony can make a breakfast spread quite like her, it drives poor Au Gratin batty!” And now the fairytales had been set on fire. Princesses didn’t cook their own meals in those stories. Then again, those princesses weren’t like Twilight to begin with—and apparently they weren’t like the Royal Family at all. Rarity sighed. Of course they weren’t. As if the past few days hadn’t done enough to drive the fact home, Twilight, at least, seemed bound and determined to do away with every one of them. Worse yet, without even knowing of it. Typical. She lathered her pancakes in syrup, took up her knife and fork and cut herself a generous morsel, then brought it to her lips. She took her first bite, the taste of sweet, fluffy buttermilk pancakes and rich maple syrup danced upon her tongue. Almost like mother used to make. Maybe there was something to a princess cooking meals. Especially one taught by a mare over a thousand years old. “So, Twilight,” Princess Cadence began, “how do you plan on fitting all those books in your library? And please don’t just say ‘runes.” “Well, that’s the simple answer.” Twilight paused to take a sip of coffee. Princess Cadence arched a slender brow. “And the more complicated answer is …?” “Oh. I plan on using a series of wards to expand the interior of the library and give it a few extra rooms, but contain it within its natural space.” “Ah!” Her eyes lit up as comprehension dawned. “I see. Drawing inspiration from foals’ tales, I see.” “The theory is sound and it has been tested before.” Twilight’s horn lit up as she levitated a large duffel bag and shook it in mid air. “Magic bags and carts have been used for centuries. All I have to do is account for the size difference, add more power and intent to the runic array, and account for the constant flow of bodies and books.” Thinking on it a moment, she added, “And the size of the bookcases, of course.” Shining glanced up from his newspaper and grinned. “Yeah, while I don’t know a whole lot about runes, I’d say that’s a pretty big deal for such a project. And don’t blow yourself up, by the way.” “Wait, what?” Rarity yelped her jaw went slack. She turned to fix Twilight with a horrified look. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” Twilight replied, rolling her eyes before aiming a flat stare at Shining. “He’s just being a smarty flank.” “A smarty flank who knows what happens if somepony makes a mistake with runic arrays. There’s a reason crafters go through years of training, and I’d like for my baby sister to not be a case study in the disaster portion of that field. Magical prodigy or not.” With a huff, Twilight flung a dollop of warm milk from her oatmeal at him, which splattered against a tiny pink barrier which formed just a hair’s breadth before his nose. She pursed her lips as Shining cheekily waggled his ears, then said, “I’ll take all the necessary precautions. And Rarity will be with me the whole time.” “Pardon?” Rarity leaned back from her, eyes wide and trepidation creeping into her heart. Just what was this mare getting her into? Twilight turned to flash a reassuring smile at her. “It’ll be fine. I’ve done runic enchantments before with Celestia. I’ll just need you for, ah …” Her feathers twitched, she ducked her head and gave a shaky smile. “Appraisal,” she finished lamely. Trepidation gave way to confusion, and then a slow trickle of curiosity. Rarity sat silently for a moment longer, searching Twilight’s eyes for any hint to her designs. There was nervousness, as there had been on the train. But there was something else. Something she just couldn’t quite place her hoof on. Curiosity won the day. “If you’re sure it’s safe,” Rarity said slowly, before nodding once. “I’d be happy to offer whatever help you require, Twilight.” The smile that spread across Twilight’s face could have warmed the hearts of a pack of hungry timberwolves. One Rarity found herself returning, and brought with it a warmth that filled her chest. Rarity averted her eyes and resumed eating her breakfast while the royals took up their banter again. Her mind, however, wandered to the mare sitting just a short distance to her left. Twilight, she realized, was more beautiful when she smiled like that. The sendoff for Princess Cadence and Captain Shining Armor had been understandably emotional, just as the departure from Canterlot. Rarity politely averted her gaze as Twilight caught the pair in teary embraces, nuzzling into their shoulder and whispering how much she’d miss them along with promises to write often. Gestures and words returned in earnest, and with a tender kiss on either cheek from the burly stallion before he boarded the train. A loving family, Rarity noted. One that both met those lofty, fairytale dreams of hers, but … simultaneously defied them. They were perfect, yet equine all the same. It was a thought that filled her heart with warmth. Equestria’s rulers, living in splendor in their castle in Canterlot, weren’t so different from the average pony after all. Or so Rarity had thought. Any similarities she might have drawn between the common pony and Twilight Sparkle were dashed almost immediately upon their return to Golden Oak Library when Equestria’s youngest princess drew her attention to the little duffle bag she’d retrieved from her parents’ home in Canterlot. The very one Shining mentioned at the table. “Forgive me if I seem a bit dense, dear,” Rarity began, “but I’m afraid I don’t see what makes this bag so important that you had to go all the way back to Canterlot for it.” She furrowed her brows. “Come to think of it, how did you even do that?” Twilight giggled. “Oh, just a teleportation spell. It’s simple, really.” Her eyes lit up. “I could teach you if you like!” “Er. Pardon me, but I don’t know if my talents are quite comparable to yours, dear. That might be a bit—” she rolled a hoof through the air in search of the phrase “—out of my depth.” “Nonsense.” The young princess waved her off. “Anypony can learn it with practice. With a little work, I’d wager I could have you doing basic teleportation across the room in two weeks.” She paused in thought, then amended, “Maybe a month. It’s simple, but the principal being new might slow you a little.” Rarity blinked, unsure if she should take offense or not. Rather than dwell, she sidled up to Twilight and raised a brow as her princess unzipped the bag. “That aside, how exactly does this solve the, ah, book issue?” “Well, this is just part of it. A runic array—” “Forgive me, dear, but I was at the table. I’m afraid the subject of runes is not something I can claim in my area of expertise.” Twilight ducked her head, her cheeks tinged a dusty pink. “Right. Sorry. Well, let’s just say I can cast big spells with the right arrangement of symbols and magic.” She lit her horn and floated two books from within the confines of her duffle bag, hovering them before Rarity. “And I’m going to fix my little problem with these.” The first book was an thick textbook, with pages yellowed with age and riddled with small tears and folds from where students past had dog-eared the pages. Upon the deep brown cover, written in faded black script, was the title Runes: Spellwork and Enchantments to Last the Ages. The textbook opened and flipped several dozen pages forward as Twilight steered it to hover before her face. An eager smile tugged at either corner of her mouth, like a filly about to play with a new toy. “I’ve studied runes with Celestia for ages. What I’d like to do is see if I can apply a bit of theory, the same used in making my bag,” she said, with an absentminded nod to her luggage before turning to trot down the hallway leading to the storage room. “That way, I can make something bigger, but have it contained within its own space. A … bigger on the inside trick, if that helps the image.” “I see.” She didn’t, but Rarity followed along. Her curiosity was piqued. “And you want to try this on what exactly?” Twilight glanced over her shoulder. Her smile broadened. “Oh, you’ll see. Would you mind fetching my chalk box from the bag?” “Er. What?” Sapphire eyes darted from Twilight to the bag as if she’d told Rarity to kiss a snake. “Oh, relax! It’s just a magic bag! They’ll be right at the top anyway, I couldn’t very well have them buried under all my books and shelves, you know!” Her words did little to alleviate Rarity’s apprehension. If anything, it only worsened. Still, her princess commanded it, so she would do as ordered. She reached out with a shimmering blue tendril of magic, biting her lips she felt around like she half expected a bear to leap from within and claw her face off. Fortunately, no such thing happened. Rarity felt her magic brush against a slender metal box, just the size to hold a few pieces of chalk. Raising a brow, she took hold of both items and withdrew them from the bag. Step one complete. She could happily go rejoin Twilight. But her curiosity got the better of her. What exactly had Twilight meant? Surely she wasn’t serious about there being all of her books, not to mention bookshelves—the very idea! Still, it couldn’t hurt to check things out. It might just help her learn a little bit more about the princess she was working under. Again, she reached into the bag with a tendril of magic, fanning it out to lay over the bottom with the soft touch of a blanket being unfurled over a readily made bed. Every bit of past experience told her she should feel nothing more than the bottom, maybe a few other books and a toiletries bag. There was no way Twilight had managed to fit anything more in such a small duffel bag. It never came. Instead, Rarity felt her magic brush against polished wood panels and shelves, pristinely maintained dust jackets of countless hard-cover books, paperbacks with bent and worn spines that told of countless nights spent reading and re-reading their text, and thick, aged tomes that seemed at least an inch or two thick. Rarity took a step back, very nearly dropping the box Twilight requested as her magic flickered out. “Sweet, merciful Celestia,” she breathed. “What in Equestria—how is this possible?” “Rarity!” Twilight called from down the hallway. “I need that brush and inkwell so I can get started! Have you been able to find them or do you need my help?” “N-No!” Rarity replied, jolted from her reverie. She flipped the bag closed with a deft flick of magic, then scampered along down the hall as quickly as her hooves could carry her to her princess’s side. The hallway was rather short, leading only to a small washroom and a storage closet. Rarity found Twilight standing between the two doors with a hoof touching her chin and her runes book hovering before her eyes her magic. Humming a note or two to herself, Twilight muttered something under her breath that Rarity didn’t quite catch. Her brows were knitted together in concentration, the bridge of her nose scrunched up just enough to make Rarity pause a moment to note just how pretty she looked so deep in thought. No, not pretty. Beautiful. She looked up, her purple eyes lit up almost the instant they met Rarity’s. Twilight closed her book with a sharp snap. “Ah, perfect. Exactly what I needed.” She reached out to take the chalk box from Rarity, exchanging her books. “This is going to get a little involved, I’m afraid. So I might need you to consult my runes book for me if I need something. Don’t worry I’ve marked the pages.” “All right,” Rarity replied slowly, glancing at the pages to find that, yes, Twilight had in fact dog eared three or four pages in near proximity. Her eyes flitted to the second book though. It wasn’t nearly as thick, nor its pages as aged, maybe only a few years and several read throughs, if the hints of wear in the spine and breaks in the pages where bookmarks had been placed many times over. She tilted her head, shifting the runes textbook out of the way so she could look upon the cover. A splendrous depiction of bookshelves stretching as far as the eye could see, deep into an endless cavern and twisting hallways, even laid out beneath a balcony overlooking it all, greeted her. A pair of ponies stood on the cover. One young mare no doubt some intrepid explorer, or perhaps a curious would-be patron. The other mare stood just a bit taller, the presence of a pair of magnificent wings and long horn telling of her status as an alicorn, perhaps some princess of knowledge or reason, seemed equally curious. Why, the alicorn looked as though she hadn’t seen another pony in quite some time and was thinking to reach out and touch the newcomer to check if she were real. Above the image, the title was written in flowing silvery cursive. “The Princess and the Magic Library, a novel by Ducky Ink.” Blinking, she glanced up to see Twilight drawing the beginnings of a circle on the floor, taking time to ensure that there were no rough edges. Rarity waited a few seconds for her to close the circle, then asked, “Is there a particular reason you picked this book out of your bag?” Velvety purple ears twitched. Twilight replied without looking up from her labor. “It’s the inspiration behind what I’m about to do,” she said almost absentmindedly. “The theory is sound and has been applied on things like my bag. It’s just incredibly rare to try it on the scale shown in the book, or even what I’m about to do.” “That sounds like it could be … troublesome.” At that, she turned to smile at Rarity. “It’s a little challenging, but I can manage. Like I said, the theory is quite sound and I’ve had practice.” Twilight returned her attention to her circle and began etching a few strange symbols into the wooden floor. As she worked, she asked, “Out of curiosity, how much would you say you—actually, never mind. Your mass isn’t important. I should be factoring in the mass and volume of the tree and then the volume of space I need for the bookcases and additional room. Oh, and of course the magic flowing throughout. Hmm …” Additional room? Magic flowing throughout what? Rarity opened the book and glanced through the pages Twilight had marked. Similar symbols stared back at her, just as foreign to her eyes on the page as they were on the floor. The little notes her princess had scrawled into the margins about factoring for the mass and volume to adjust for the space being created in an already existing body did little to help, but did provide some sort of hint. Twilight wasn’t just making an extra hallway for her bookcases. Between her own words and notes, there was something extra going into her labor. Something she was being deliberately vague about. But it was her princess’s project. Rarity would stand by and wait until she was needed, as was her duty. Though if there was one thing that confused her, aside from the strange runes, it was the way Twilight glanced over her shoulder to steal a look back at her every now and again. Almost like a nervous filly preparing to show something off to her teacher. Or perhaps her closest friend. Her first instinct as a sister was to cajole whatever it was out of Twilight. If there was something making her nervous, Rarity could offer a supporting hoof. As quickly as those glances came, they were gone though, and her piece of chalk moved on with the same precision as it had before. No hesitation, no messy writing. Just calm, even strokes of chalk on hardwood floor, then gradually moving toward the walls and even the ceiling. Whatever had her princess glancing back, Rarity decided would just have to wait until the job was done. However long that would take. Of all the things Rarity imagined she would be a part of as Twilight’s mare-in-waiting, this wasn’t quite what she had in mind. As it turned out, runic arrangements, something Twilight called “a little involved,” weren’t quite so simple as “draw a circle on the ground, scrawl a few symbols around it, cast a spell, and be done.” Oh, no. Runic arrangements covered the hall like a dust storm of indiscernible scribbles from a time long forgotten. All over the walls. All over the ceiling. Rarity had to resist the urge to shriek as she might should she catch Sweetie Belle doing the same in her Boutique, but she couldn’t hold back a twitch in her ear or a slight flick in her tail when she was sure Twilight wasn’t looking. If all this didn’t work, somepony would have a sizable mess to clean up. And Rarity had a sneaking suspicion that she might be the unlucky pony in that equation. That, of course, assumed things didn’t work out as Twilight said they would. Not that Rarity wanted to cast doubt upon her princess’s abilities—really, teleporting all the way to Canterlot and back was a feat in and of itself—but everypony had limits. Rather than glare so brazenly at the runes, she decided to busy herself with flipping through and skimming the pages of The Princess and the Magic Library. Her confusion and disbelief at her princess’s work was matched only by her intrigue into Twilight’s inspiration. Just what was it that made her think she could scribble on the walls, floors, and ceiling and just create something from nothing? As it turned out, quite a bit of it was based in the fairytale story held in her hooves. Skimming turned into actual reading in short order. Rarity sat on the floor, engrossed in the age-old tale of a young unicorn named Turquoise Stardust who stumbled into an ancient, forgotten library in the middle of Blackwood Forest, a dark, treacherous wood from which nopony was said to have gone in and returned the same. There, Turquoise met Midnight Song, the Princess of the Lost Library of Blackwood. Midnight Song had crafted the library herself, weaving spells beyond the knowledge of even some of the most ancient and learned magi of the land to construct a library confined within a modest cottage. At least, it seemed a modest cottage on the outside. Once Turquoise ducked into the cottage to escape a rainstorm, she found herself met by a sight that had her convinced she was dreaming: a great library, with shelves lining the walls of the main sitting area. Or, rather, the entry way. Beyond that, there was a lovely balcony with a view stretching across a veritable maze of bookcases, reading tables, and bag chairs, all lit by the glow of a fine chandelier hanging from the ceiling. And then there was Midnight herself. The way Turquoise described her, Rarity would almost swear the mare had been smitten at first sight. How had she not heard of this story before? Surely it would’ve fit right in with all those classic tales of Royal Guards in gleaming gold saving the fair lady from the clutches of some dreadful creature or dastardly villain to win her favor. “Princess? Rarity? Anypony here? It’s Applejack!” Rarity flicked an ear at the farm mare’s voice. She closed the book with a gentle flick of her magic and rose, slowly stretching out her legs. “Shall I go see what she needs, Twilight?” she asked with a smile as she watched Twilight pour over her work for the fifteenth time. “Huh? Oh, yes.” Twilight turned away to flash a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that. Almost done—for real this time, I promise! I just want to look over it one more time before I trigger the runes. One mistake could be a bit … well, never mind that.” She coughed into a hoof, then nodded. “Yes, please see what Applejack wants. I’d be happy to help if needed.” “Of course.” With a slight bow of her head, Rarity placed the books aside in case Twilight wished to read through them, then turned to trot briskly into the reading room. As she entered, she greeted Applejack with a bright smile. “Good morning, Applejack. Is there something I can help you find? An almanac, perhaps?” The farm mare shook her head. “No thanks, Rares. Not here for readin’ today.” Applejack brushed her hat backs so she could meet Rarity’s eyes. “Wanted to see if the Princess was ‘round for a quick word. If she’s too busy, I can always come back later though?” “Twilight is …” Rarity glanced back toward the hall and flicked an ear. “She’s currently working on a bit of rune craft, or so she calls it. But we could check with her if you like.” “Rune-wha—never mind, I don’t understand half the magic you do in your Boutique. Don’t even wanna try wrappin’ my head ‘round whatever she can do.” “Don’t feel embarrassed, I haven’t the slightest clue how she’s planning to enlarge the interior of the library myself, but she claims she can do it. That aside, she’s just down this hall.” Rarity beckoned for Applejack to follow, then turned to lead her down the short hallway to the storage closet. She tried not to take a small measure of solace in the way her friend gasped and whispered something about how the hall looked like the farmhouse walls after Apple Bloom started scribbling when she was but two years old. How very gratifying that there was somepony who shared her feeling on the matter. Still, not her place to say. It was Twilight’s library, so she could do with it as she pleased. Rarity gave a light cough, then said, “Twilight, Applejack was hoping to have a quick word with you about something.” “‘Bout Apple Bloom,” Applejack added. Twilight’s ears twitched. “Oh?” She turned to face the pair with a smile, snapping her runes text shut before approaching. Her fail swished merrily behind her, eyes gleaming with what could only be immense satisfaction. “Well, I have plenty of time. I’ve just finished my last check on the runes, so I’m free to chat before I start this up. What about your sister would you like to talk about?” “Well, she told me at breakfast this mornin’ ‘bout how you worked with her ’n Scootaloo to help ‘em study for their test this Monday. Just wanted to pop by and give my thanks properly. Granny would’ve come by too, but all the walkin’ at the party last night’s got her hip actin’ up.” Again, Twilight’s ears twitched. Her smile melted away into a tiny frown. “Is she okay? I could find a healing spell in my bag if you’d like. I think I brought those books … if not, I can always get them.” Applejack waved her off. “She’ll be fine, Twilight, but I appreciate the offer. A day’s rest and her medicine’ll have her up ’n about son enough.” “Well, that’s good then. Though if you change your mind, let me know.” “‘Course.” Glancing once more at the chalk circles and runes scribbled everywhere, Applejack shook her head. “That aside, I talked with Apple Bloom ‘bout her math an’ looked over one of the reviews you had her do. She showed me a few more practice problems an’ said she’d never felt more confident goin’ into a test, an’ it’s you we’ve got to thank for that.” Twilight practically lit up. “Oh, that was no trouble at all. I love teaching and tutoring foals.” Her eyes flitted to Rarity, who bit her lip as she noticed a certain gleam in them. Had she been serious about that teleportation spell? “Well, just teaching in general.” Nodding, Applejack smiled. “Well, I don’t know how you made it so much fun for her, but if you’ve ever got free time and she needs help … would it be too much to ask—” “Not at all,” the Princess cut her off. “Feel free to send her by anytime, as long as I’m not caught up in paperwork or in a meeting. And she’s welcome to stop by on her own, of course. As is Scootaloo, if you can manage to rope her into it.” Applejack chuckled and raised her brows. “I might have one or two cards to play to make that one happen. We’ll see.” Casting another glance around the hallway, she tilted her head. “So, a bit off topic here, but what exactly is all this? Rarity said something about rune-whatsits—” “Rune-crafting,” Rarity and Twilight corrected in unison. “Right, that. So why’re you doin’ all this … stuff?” “Glad you asked! You’re just in time for a live demonstration!” Fluffing her feathers, Twilight waved them back. “Step back a little, this is going to take a little magic casting to trigger and it’s going to change the dimensions a bit.” Rarity furrowed her brows. “Is that dangerous?” “Not if I did things right, but there’s always that one in a million chance for random occurrence to cause complications and I’d rather not take it with you.” Now there was a point Rarity couldn’t argue. She nodded once, then ushered Applejack back toward the sitting room, keeping her eyes trained on Twilight all the while. She watched the studious princess glance her work over one last time, as though she expected something to have jumped out of order since she last looked. Twilight gave a satisfied nod, then channeled magic into her horn. The hallway lit up with a raspberry light, the chalk circles and runes glowed the purest white Rarity had ever seen in her life. Whiter than fresh fallen snow. There was a blinding flash, spots dotted her vision. Rarity had to avert her gaze and hold up a hoof to protect her eyes, she could hear a rushing sound fill her ears, the tinkling of magic echoed throughout the library and reverberated down to her very bones. She had little choice but to pin her ears flat and wait for the assault to end. Then it stopped all at once. Hesitantly, Rarity perked her ears up. Only when she confirmed the noice had truly ceased did she dare open her eyes again. Her jaw promptly dropped. The hallway, which had been maybe four or five paces before ending at the wooden door leading to the storage closet, had grown and now extended to triple—no, quadruple the length and doubled in width to accommodate the presence of bookshelves while leaving room for ponies to trot and peruse. Another door had been added at the end of the hallway, on the right side, just before the storage closet. Twilight stood before that very door, beaming like a foal on Hearth’s Warming, and waved them over. “Come on over!” she called. “How does it look?” “I—she—how did she?” Applejack’s jaw clicked shut. “Did you just make the library—the entire tree grow?” Giggling, Twilight shook her head. “Not at all. I used a special arrangement that keeps the interior growth … well, interior!” She fluffed her feathers once more, this time along with a swish of her tail. “You can go outside and circle the library if you like, but I promise you—” here, Twilight tapped a hoof against the wall “—the trunk hasn’t expanded a micrometer.” Rarity turned to share a look of utmost disbelief with Applejack. After a couple seconds, the farm mare furrowed her brows and muttered, “Be right back. I gotta see this myself.” Then she hurried out of the library and into the midmorning sun to verify Twilight’s claims. A part of Rarity thought to follow, but she had something else in mind. Such a feat of magic, expanding a hallway and creating a new door to a new room, wasn’t something any unicorn could simply light their horn and just do like levitation. Heavens no. This sort of magic was beyond anything she’d ever dreamed. Yet Twilight Sparkle pulled it off with a few chalk scribblings, a quick burst of magic, and a dazzling smile. She approached as Twilight asked, her eyes flitting from the mare to the door. “I didn’t realize you planned to make an entire new room,” Rarity said slowly. “I didn’t even think you could extend the hallway this much!” Twilight’s smile grew. She fluttered her wings and bobbed her head. “Anything is possible with a little practice and will.” With a deft flick of magic, she pushed the door open and gestured toward the empty room. A room maybe three-fourths the size of the upstairs loft, with a window to boot. “What do you think?” “I think you may just be the most wonderfully gifted mare I’ve ever met,” Rarity replied before her brain could catch up with what her mouth was saying. Her comment seemed to make Twilight’s chest fill. “How kind of you,” she said, then nodded to the room. “But I meant the room.” Oops. Rarity felt a heat rise in her cheeks. She gave an awkward cough, then entered the new room and let her gaze flit about the empty space. “It looks … quite expansive.” She turned to fix Twilight with a quizzical look. “A new work area? You did mention your studies earlier.” “No. This room isn’t for me.” Twilight shook her head, her smile didn’t falter in the slightest. She stepped forward and pointed at Rarity. “It’s yours.” Rarity’s ears twitched. “I beg your pardon?” “You’ll be here quite a bit, given your new position, so I thought you might end up spending quite a bit of time in the library. If you want to use this as a room, it’s yours. I’ll pay for any furnishing you want. That way, you won’t have to sleep on that spare bed or the couch ever again.” “I—but—I can’t accept this!” Rarity sputtered. “I’m flattered, truly, and this is such a kind, wonderful gesture, but I can’t—” “Yes you can,” Twilight cut her off gently. “I’ve already gone and done it, and I’m not undoing it. This room is yours, however you want to use it. And I won’t allow you to spend your bits to furnish it either. You may consider that my first order.” Rarity worked her mouth wordlessly. She tried to think of some feasible way to reject Twilight’s generous offer—more than generous, in fact! Far too generous! A princess was not meant to spend so much on her staff! Did these royals even read the fairytales about them? Worse, with each passing second, Twilight’s smile widened into a cheeky grin and her cheeks dusted a most fetching pink hue. She knew she’d just taken away any chance for argument. Applejack burst into the library at that moment. “She actually did it!” she gasped, panting for breath. “Rarity! Twilight wasn’t kiddin’! This ol’ tree ain’t grown a hair wider!” A princess who enchanted her library to fit more books and accommodate her mare in waiting, then promised to fund any purchases to furnish the room she created. What other choice did Rarity have but to heave a defeated sigh, smile, and bow her head. “Thank you, Twilight,” she said softly. “I’ll begin moving my belongings over shortly.” When she looked up, she found herself met by a smile as bright as the midday sun. Twilight waggled her ears. “I’ll help.”