Twilight flipped through her English binder, fondly looking at every A+ marked on her papers. Sure, she had digital copies of most of them backed up on her computer, but she had still saved the hard copies; they were the original proof of her academic success! Though, she reasoned that the overall proof was engraved in her high school GPA and diploma.
She sighed, taking one last look at her critical analysis paper on The Odyssey before closing the binder and dropping it in the ‘throw away’ box.
Her mother had advised her to begin clearing out her old school things as a first step in preparation for her leavetaking. Twilight hadn’t realized just how many notebooks and binders she had filled and hoarded through the years until she dug through her closest. She had things dating back to the sixth grade. While cute and sentimental, those had been easier to discard.
No, it was her materials accumulated from high school that proved harder to part with. Perhaps because she had put even more effort into every one of her assignments knowing that colleges would be looking at them. Or because, instead of working on everything alone, Twilight had begun to collaborate and talk through her ideas with friends. Namely Moondancer up until senior year.
Twilight’s heart tightened. She pushed the thought aside and picked up the next notebook lying on the floor. Her AP Physics notes. That would surely come in handy her first few years in college. She placed it in the ‘keep’ box at the foot of her bed.
Spike wandered into her room, tail wagging as he began sniffing around. He put his paws up on the lip of the ‘keep’ box and stuck his head inside.
“No, Spike, there’s nothing in there for you.”
The box tipped forward, spilling books and binders onto the floor, and startling Spike so much, he jumped onto the bed and pressed himself into Twilight’s side.
She giggled and stroked his head. “Silly puppy.” She reached for a discarded notebook, tore out a piece of paper, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the hall. “Go get it!”
Spike barked and leaped of the bed, chasing the makeshift ball, and chewing on it with fervor once he caught it.
With Spike occupied, Twilight reorganized her ‘keep’ box, then returned to sorting. She got rid of her tenth grade history notes, but kept her advanced chemistry notes from eleventh grade. Looking around at what she wanted to inspect next, Twilight saw a manila folder lying next to her desk. There was a French flag stamped on the front.
“Huh, I never took French,” she said to herself as she picked it up. Thinking on it, she regretted not taking a second language. Opening the folder, she saw papers not written in French, but in English, but they weren’t in her handwriting.
“Oh!” Twilight pulled one out and looked at the tidy signature at the bottom. “Oh…”
Moondancer had signed her name using hearts instead of ‘o’s. Twilight’s throat constricted at the sight of it. She wanted to put the letters down, maybe even drop them in the discard box. She had been trying her hardest not to think about Moondancer. But thinking about Sunset led to thinking about Prom, and thinking about Prom led to…
She was on the second letter before she knew it. She and Moondancer had exchanged over a dozen while Moondancer had been abroad. Moondancer shared tales and descriptions of her time in Paris. From museums to cafés to the people she had met. Every letter included how much she missed Twilight.
“Every day spent without you, I feel as if the sun struggles to rise.”
Twilight let out a bitter laugh. How could she have never seen it? Moondancer had been head-over-heels for her. Of course, Twilight hadn’t realized she liked girls back then. She hadn’t realized she was capable of being romantically interested in anyone.
But every letter penned by Moondancer seemed sincere, full of heart and friendship. It was a complete inverse to what Twilight had witnessed at Prom. Moondancer’s words had been laced with venom, and a hateful fire burned in her eyes. From what Twilight understood, the Archon Amulet caused some amount of insanity. But was that really an excuse for Moondancer’s actions?
Reading her words, Twilight wondered what was truth and what had been fabricated in their friendship. Twilight was only a quarter through the folder now, slowing down to take in Moondancer’s words.
My dearest Little Star,
The tone of this letter must start off as mine usually do: tidings of nothing but happiness and well wishes to you! It’s been only a month, yet my heart aches to see your face again. As lovely as France is, there are seldom people here I can talk to, and even fewer who can hold a conversation. I know you not to be a social butterfly, but your comments and observations on all things material and immaterial are always stimulating.
Now, for the matter at hand. First, pass on my congratulations to your father for his new position at the university. However, I must confess my most immediate distress upon hearing you will not be attending Crystal Prep for our final year! What am I to do without you, Twilight? I know it is for the sake of convenience, but do you truly have to move across town? Even upon my return, it will feel like a massive chasm has opened up between us!
You are my closest and dearest friend. If I am to open my heart completely, you’re really the only friend I have at the academy. The other girls are nice, but I see it in their eyes. They only talk to me for my wealth. And no one in the theater club are truly friends. It is cutthroat, Twilight, cutthroat! With you gone, what catharsis will I have at the end of the day? Who will make me smile? Who will allow me to revel in my occasional dramatics? And who will take care of you in my absence? You are smart and talented—none know more than I, but you hide your face in the crowd (or rather, behind a book). Who will help you shine? Who will make sure you stop reading and eat?
Woe onto me! This will consume my every thought until I return! The most I can do is pray that the stars look after you.
Sigh. To end on brighter news, I shall be visiting the French countryside next week. I shall enclose pictures upon my next letter. I truly do miss you, Twilight, and I hope this new school will be to your liking. Enjoy the remainder of you summer holiday. I eagerly look forward to your next correspondence.
Love,
Moondancer
Sitting in front of the next letter were indeed the pictures Moondancer had promised. They were beautiful shots of valleys, vineyards, and small towns surrounded by green pastures.
Twilight read the letter again. Moondancer had missed her so much that she had transferred schools to follow after Twilight. That was a true mark of friendship, right? Or, had she done it to observe Twilight’s magical friends?
“Who will take care of you in my absence? … Who will help you shine?”
Twilight tightened her grip on the paper. Did Moondancer think she couldn’t take care of herself? Her grip slackened. The truth was, she couldn’t. The next letter reminded her so.
Dearest Twilight
I hope this letter arrives to you with the utmost haste and finds you in much better health than when you sent your last letter. It took me a full hour to compose myself before I could write a response.
Nearly assaulted! I am horrified at the thought! And furious! If I ever find the two culprits, hell shall have no fury! I am eternally thankful to this Sunset Shimmer for her timely intervention, though from how you describe her, I’m a little dubious to her character as well. Perhaps it’s the leather jacket. That’s never a sign of a character with high moral fiber. Still, I will not look this gift horse in the mouth.
Words cannot express how happy I am to know you are physically unharmed. I can only hope the shock isn’t as bad either. Of course you know, I am always here to lend an ear.
I have enclosed pictures of the French countryside. Perhaps they will set your mind at ease if it need be.
Why do I have to be a whole ocean away? You need me to defend you from ruffians like that! I would come home right now if I could! But, alas, I have commitments. I can do nothing more than hope nothing else befalls you.
I miss you dearly. Please, continue sending me letters so I know you are safe. I hope the fall semester goes well for you, my dearest little star.
Love,
Moondancer
Twilight set the letter aside and stared at the floor. Every time she had been in trouble, someone had come to save her. Against those thugs, against Scarlet, against Moondancer. And every time her friends went to battle, Twilight had sit on the side and watch. Had she really helped during the Battle of the Bands? She certainly hadn’t done anything when her magic powered friends were fighting Scarlet. All she had been was a liability.
Magic. In the end, it all came down to magic. Her lack of it… her friends’ excess of it… Moondancer’s loss of control over it.
Twilight stood and walked to her desk. She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out another binder: her notes on magic. Most of it was what Sunset had explained to her about Equestrian magic. She still only had speculation and hypotheses for how magic in this world worked. Twilight flipped through it, seeing question after question she had written down with no answer to follow. And she hadn’t even updated it after the events at Prom. What was that new form Sunset had taken on? How had she acquired it? Had it really been as simple as accepting the events in her past? What gave the Archon Amulet its corrupting influence?
Twilight slammed the binder shut and shoved it away. She didn’t have magic, she barely understood it. How was she supposed to help her friends if Tirek came back? How was she supposed to protect Sunset if Moondancer or Tempest attacked again? She didn’t want to be the damsel in distress! She didn’t want to be the useless sidekick!
Anger bubbled in her stomach. Anger at herself, at the confusing world around her, at Moondancer…
Her eyes fell on the letters again. Why, Moony? What did Sunset ever do to you? Twilight balled her fists. She didn’t want to be angry at Moondancer. But amidst the confusion and sadness and frustration, it was there. She had lied about wanting to be friends with Sunset and tried to kill her.
Twilight picked up the folder again and read through the remaining letters. She had told Moondancer a lot about Sunset, and Moondancer had responded with interest and fond remarks.
“I’m glad you’ve found a new friend! … How nice of her! Give her my thanks! … I hope you and Sunset have a good time at the ball. Try not to have too good of a time though.”
Where had the lie started? Where was the point where Moondancer came to hate Sunset enough to want her dead? Or had it been there since the beginning?
Twilight’s insides tied themselves into knots. She wanted an explanation. She wanted to march to Moondancer’s house and demand one. The way things were now, she doubted Moondancer would tell her anything, even if Twilight got that far.
Instead, Twilight sat at her desk and took out a pen and paper.
“Dear Moondancer,”
She paused. How did she start a letter like this? What did she say first? There were so many emotions swirling together, Twilight couldn’t pick one that stood out the most. She just needed to vent.
So she did. Twilight just wrote. She wrote and wrote, forming run on sentences, using all capital letters, questioning, accusing, rambling until the page was full. Then, she grabbed another paper and filled that one, too. She wrote about things that weren’t directly tied to Moondancer. Her frustrations with magic, with herself, even some about Sunset. Twilight just needed to get everything out.
After three pages of untidy, hastily written script, Twilight let the pen fall onto the desk. She leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath. She felt a little lighter, a little more clear headed. Frustration still roiled within her, but it felt more manageable.
Twilight looked over what she had written. Some of it was illegible in her haste to write. She crumpled all of it up and threw it into the trash, then took a clean sheet of paper and started again. She wrote slowly, returning to her neat handwriting, and pausing frequently to put her thoughts in order. Twilight made sure she was clear and concise without being to hostile. After a half hour, she had a full page finished.
She read it and re-read it, and while it all sounded good, she actually had no idea if she really wanted to send this. Would Moondancer even get it? And what would it change? Nothing, she supposed, other than telling Moondancer her thoughts and feelings. Would that prompt Moondancer to respond in turn?
There was a soft rapt on her door. Twilight twisted in her seat to find her mother at the threshold. “Sunset’s downstairs waiting for you. I thought I’d give you a heads up in case you weren’t decent.”
“Oh, right. Thanks, Mom.” Twilight had forgotten she and Sunset were supposed to spend time together. She neatly folded the letter and tucked into into the top drawer. That was a decision she could make later, she supposed.
*******
Twilight poked at her mint chocolate chip ice cream. She had eaten half of it, and was now watching the other half slowly melt. The umbrella over their table kept it from becoming a complete puddle in the warm late spring air. She took a small nibble, though her appetite had for it had come and gone.
“It must be quiet without Artemis and Trixie at home,” she said, trying to keep the conversation going.
Sunset, who had gotten a cone today, made a loud slurp on her double scoop of strawberry. “Yeah. Shimmer stays in her room most of the time, so it’s just Selena and I. It’s pretty cool though. She’ll read parts of the newest novel she’s working on and ask for my input. Then, I’ll help her cook dinner. I’m learning how to make pizza from scratch.”
Twilight nodded. “Sounds like fun,” she said, missing her usual enthusiasm.
Sunset lowered her ice cream, revealing her pink stained mouth. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Twilight said, cracking a small smile at Sunset’s mess. She took a napkin and reached over the table to wipe her face.
“Come on, that’s the ‘nothing’ I give when it’s something,” Sunset said after Twilight had finished. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”
“I know. It’s just…” Twilight put down her spoon and wrung her wrists. “I… You told me I wasn’t useless, but…”
Sunset gave her a doleful look. “Twilight…”
“I feel useless, okay?” Twilight blurted out. “You all have magic and can do these incredible things! And, every time I try to do something, someone has to rescue me! The one time I tried to protect you, you had to save me! I can’t figure out how any of this magic stuff works! I’m just… I’m just kinda here.”
She slumped back in her seat. Apparently, writing out her emotions hadn’t helped as much as she thought. Now she felt frustrated and embarrassed.
Sunset stood up, tossed the rest of her ice cream into the trash, then walked around behind Twilight and wrapped her arms around her.
“First off,” she said softly into Twilight’s ear, “it’s not fair to compare yourself to freakish magical pony girls.”
Twilight didn’t smile.
“Second, like I told you that night, the fact that you didn’t back down from Scarlet, a fire-breathing demon, and Moondancer, your best friend is not the mark of someone useless. That took huge amounts of bravery. And, Sparky, if you hadn’t rescued us from that locked room during the Battle of the Bands, the Sirens would have won. Pinkie’s skull is thick, but I doubt we would have gotten that door open.”
Twilight managed a tiny smile.
“I get it, it’s hard to feel like you’re contributing when you’re surrounded by six girls who can fling magic around. But you’re a genius, Twilight. We built an EMP and a hydroelectric generator out of spare parts. You’re working on a gyrocopter for your scholarship to MIT! You’re one of the few humans who even knows real magic exists!”
Sunset kissed her on the cheek. “And I don’t care how many other Twilight Sparkles there might be out there. You’re the only one for me.”
Twilight leaned against her. Sunset’s words warmed her like a fireplace on a rainy day. She wanted to believe all of it—she really did. But a small voice in her head kept asking, what was she doing here, amongst these superheroes?
“Hey!” Sunset grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up to her feet. “Come on, I’ve got an idea that might cheer you up!”
“R-really?” Twilight said, taken aback by Sunset’s sudden enthusiasm. “What?”
“You’ll see when we get there.” Sunset moved her hand to to Twilight’s and led her away from the ice cream shop. They got on her motorcycle, and with a quick ride through the suburbs, came to rest at Sunset’s house.
Twilight took her helmet off and looked up at the blue abode, set apart from the other suburban houses by the wizard tower attached to the back. She followed Sunset up the driveway and through the door. Twilight always took a moment to admire the dozens upon dozens of pictures and tapestries coating every wall of the living room. Despite Trixie’s egocentric nature, her home had a very welcoming atmosphere.
“Selena!” Sunset called.
Twilight heard footsteps come from upstairs, and Selena appeared at the balcony, a pencil tucked behind her ear.
“Is something wrong, Sunset?”
“Not ‘wrong’, no.” She pulled Twilight close to her. “I was just wondering if you could talk to Twilight for a little bit. She’s under the impression you need magic to be useful.”
“Is that so?” Selena gave them a gentle smile as she descended the stairs. “I can see where you might get that idea. Come along, I’ll make some tea for us.”
Twilight and Sunset followed her to the kitchen and took a seat at the island counter while Selena put a pot on the stove. Twilight fidgeted in her seat while she waited. She had never engaged in a prolonged conversation with Selena before. Twilight knew her to be kind, yet something about her made her intimidating. It was similar to Sunset when Twilight had first met her.
Selena put a lid on the pot and faced the girls. “Sunset tells me you were the smartest girl in school, Twilight.”
Cheeks warm, Twilight looked over to Sunset, who was trying to act as nonchalant as possible by looking at her phone.
“I don’t know if I’d say the smartest…” Twilight said. Despite Sunset pretending to ignore her, she felt like she was on stage in front of dozens of people.
“You were the valedictorian,” Selena said simply. “And you two won the science fair.”
“I tried telling her that,” Sunset said under her breath.
“Okay, maybe on paper, my intellect is above average. But, in practical situations, I’m just…”
“Practical?” Selena smiled as her eyebrow rose. “Sweetie, magic is a lot of things: convenient, amusing, and an easy way to cheat the laws of reality. But, practical? I would think not.”
The teapot whistled, and Selena took it off the stove and poured three cups. “There’s a reason I do all the cooking around here. It’s because, despite the great feats Artemis is capable of, he can’t just wave his wand and conjure up a meal.”
Twilight took the warm cup. Despite the temperature outside, holding the hot beverage felt pleasant.
Selena blew the steam off the top of her cup and took a sip. “Magic is a crutch. While I love Artemis and his magic to death, I believe it’s overrated sometimes. It’s something I tried to instill in Trixie, but she was enamored with her father from day one.”
Twilight looked up from her tea. “You’re saying I should be glad I don’t have magic?”
“Well, I don’t know if glad is the word I would use. But you shouldn’t mope about not having it. You have talents all your own that make you valuable.”
“Maybe…. But, they’re not helpful in situations like the Battle of the Bands. I just don’t feel like I’m helping anyone with all these magical problems. I’m not like you. I can’t fight or swing a sword.”
Selena shook her head. “The only one you should be comparing yourself to is you. And from what Sunset tells us, you’re already pretty great.” She took another sip of tea. “That being said, I always believe there’s room for improvement. Would you like me to teach you?”
An excited jolt ran through Twilight. “T-teach me? Like, how to fight?”
“Only if you’d like. Self-defense is always handy. We probably wouldn’t be able to get very far, since you’re setting off for college soon. But, I believe I could give you a strong foundation in swordplay and hand-to-hand that should prove helpful against non-magical threats at the very least.”
The warmth Twilight’s cup radiated had grown into a burn, but she barely registered it. “Yes! That would be wonderful! I mean, if it isn’t an inconvenience. I wouldn’t want to bother you.”
Selena laughed. “It wouldn’t be a bother. It’d be a welcome break from my usual routine of cleaning and writing all day.” She looked over to Sunset. “You’re more than welcome to join us.”
“I might join in,” Sunset said casually. “But, I think this is more for Twilight.” She gave Twilight a wink.
Twilight smiled and looked down at the green tea in her hands. Thanks, Sunnykins. If this goes well, I’ll be able to protect you, too. She blew the steam away and took a careful sip of her tea.
Selena finished her cup and set it aside. “Well, we can begin anytime you’re ready. Just say the word.”
Twilight felt the urge to start now, but held it off. She and Sunset were technically supposed to be on their date right now. “Is tomorrow good?”
“Tomorrow is perfect. I’ll expect you here at noon.”
*******
The rest of the day brightened for Twilight. Butterflies danced in her stomach. She couldn’t wait to train and prove she wasn’t useless in a crisis. Fantasies ran through her head of how she would look with a sword in her hand. She pictured herself fighting off the Sirens while her friends cheered her on.
Even when the sun set and the stars came out, Twilight found herself giddy with anticipation. Sure, she had never had the best hand-eye coordination, and maybe she couldn’t run a lap without needing to sit down, but she was determined to do this!
She pushed her excitement for tomorrow down to focus on the present. To end their day together, Sunset and Twilight had retreated to Twilight’s backyard. Twilight had brought out her telescope for them to look at the stars. They shone brightly tonight, as least, as brightly as suburban lights would allow.
Twilight would point out constellations to Sunset and educate her on their origin and history. Sunset played the part of a good student and nodded attentively, even asking questions from time to time.
“The weird thing is,” Sunset said, looking into the telescope, “in Equestria, we have some of these constellations, too. Canis Major, Ursa Minor. Of course, some of them are also dangerous monsters, but I digress.”
The feeling of jubilation began to flicker as Twilight felt a small headache come on. “But, that doesn’t make any sense. If you can see some of these constellations, your world would have to be in some close proximity to Earth, right?”
Sunset straightened up. “Maybe? Remember, different dimensions, Twilight. Maybe our worlds share the same galaxy, just two different versions of it.”
In place of jubilation, Twilight now had the urge to go to Equestria and study their night sky to compare it to her own. Trans-dimensional astronomy. She could start a whole new field of science!
“Portal’s still closed,” Sunset said, looking into the telescope again.
Twilight jumped. “What, can you read minds now?”
Sunset grinned. “Nah, it’s just written all over your face.”
Twilight huffed. “I can’t help it if I get excited about the possibility of tremendous breakthroughs in the exploration of space.”
“I’ll add that to your list of turn ons then.”
If her eye hadn’t been pressed against the telescope, Twilight would have shoved Sunset. “Big, stupid, jerk,” she grumbled.
“I love you too, Sparky.”