Finding Friendship

by Kamen-Zero


— Interlude IV —

July 8,
Year 1,006 on the Grand Celestial Calendar.

New year, same old problems.

The "flying lessons" that I've been all but forced into taking "for my health" have been nothing but a nuisance. I'll admit, the actual process of learning how to fly has surprisingly been enjoyable. And once I was actually able to stay off of the ground for more than five seconds, I actually started having fun. The problem comes from my teacher tutor coach trainer WHATEVER SHE IS SUPPOSED TO BE.

I have never met anyone like this Rainbow Dash. I can't even think of words to properly convey what it's like to be in her company. She's beyond egotistical, extremely competitive with someone she's meant to be teaching, and has the descriptive power of a goldfish. She knows what she's talking about, some research on my part has proved that, but this pony is absolutely abysmal in putting it into words. On further reflection, I think I might just be bitter about the circumstances. She probably isn't as bad as I've made her out to be. Who knows? Maybe someday we'll actually be friends. Ha!

But learning how to fly hasn't been the only thing on my agenda these past weeks. Officially, classes have concluded until after the summer. But for me, as a recently ascended alicorn? They've only just begun.

Exercises in self-control and magical restraint, something I've proven that I need, but exhausting none the less. As I had learned several times throughout the past months, magic and emotions are linked, even more so for an alicorn. And learning how to disassociate the two so I don't accidentally disintegrate my Divination Homework—to give a completely unrelated and entirely hypothetical example—is very important. Though I wouldn't be surprised if these lessons were just another excuse for the Queen to see Spike, seeing as how the little guy just has to follow me everywhere. I'll have to try leaving him home one of these days to see how she reacts. That is, once I know that my Mother and Father are comfortable caring for him while I'm not around. Last time I tried, he tried to eat more houseplants. And I can't condone such behavior no matter how cute it may have been.

I never thought I'd say this though, but I just want to be done with all of this. All I wanted was to go to my dream school, to learn in the same hallowed halls as the great minds who came before me. To one day aspire to be a great scholar, or sorcerer, or maybe even an astronomer.

I don't want to live forever

I didn't ask to be an alicorn.

Done with her flying and magic lessons for the day, Twilight strode through her family home with a tired and dull expression. Her father was the only one home at the moment, his day off and all, and he had asked her how her day had been. She wasn't exactly in the best mind to give an in-depth account of the day's events, especially since she was still upset with him over these flying lessons, and only gave the most basic answer she could possibly give him.

"It was fine. But I'm tired, going to take a nap."

If nothing else, her father was understanding enough to let her rest after a long day. His meddling aside, he wasn't that bad of a father. In fact, he was the stereotypical "perfect dad," by every meaning of the phrase. But recent events had served to sour Twilight's relationship with him, though even she could admit it was only a temporary feud. She still loved her dad, and she knew he loved her, but he had done something phenomenally infuriating.

Though this was the farthest thing from her mind right now. True to her brief words, she was exhausted. On this day, in particular, the fates had conspired to schedule her flying lessons with Rainbow Dash to be just before her Magical-Control sessions with Cadence and the Queen one right after the other. None involved knew of this error, and by the time they learned, it was far too late to reschedule. After all, Twilight wasn't allowed to miss her magic lessons. She was legally prohibited from missing a single one without a viable excuse. And physical exhaustion wasn't a viable excuse, at least not in Twilight's mind, and thus she didn't even bother to try. She just told herself that it was only one day, and resolved to push through it. After all, she had all the time in the world.

A decision she wholly regretted as she walked into her childhood bedroom. While she had been staying there for the better part of a month now and would be for the remainder of the summer, walking into this room was like walking back in time. It was exactly the same as she remembered it from before she moved into her tower for the first school year. Primarily decorated by various crowded bookshelves, there was evidence that a young filly had once lived in this room, the occasional old toy left around here and there, mostly thanks to Spike's more explorative nature.

Among them was a very old looking stuffed pony with a bottom half made up of mismatched pieces of fabric that gave a distinct impression of pants. "Smartypants," as Twilight had called him in her youth, had gained the small dragon's favor in his time here. And he was, strangely enough, the one piece of fabric that Spike absolutely refused to destroy. In an act of curiosity, Twilight had even tried to encourage this behavior but nothing came of it much to her relief. Since then she had let Spike hold onto it seeing as how he treated her old friend so well and how he was so fond of it. These elements combined to form a longing nostalgia for her younger days washed over her for the briefest of moments as she closed the door behind her, discarding her saddlebags and cloak off to the side.

There was a moment where Twilight just stood there, taking in a long deep breath as she reveled in the first true instance of pure isolation for the day. Not a soul was around, not even Spike, who Twilight was fairly certain had been downstairs with her father. She saw something purple that was his general size: it was either Spike or a pillow, and she was positive it was Spike. Which was good, because the only thing Twilight wanted right now was some time to herself. Lighting up her horn, she reveled in the click of her door locking. Then, utilizing a spell she had picked up early on in the school year, enchanted the room itself. No sound would be able to enter or exit the room—unless someone knocked on the door—for as long as the enchantment was active. And Twilight had specifically set it to only end when she applied the counter charm to it, effectively cutting this room off from the rest of the outside world for as long as she saw fit.

And she screamed.

Loud and unapologetic, Twilight clenched her eyelids like vices as she let out the loudest, shrillest, most upset shriek she had ever made in her life. It was an unpleasant sound that even Twilight could hardly tolerate, but still, she kept blaring out. If she hadn't silenced her room, her father and their neighbors would have heard her without question, rushing in to see what horrid banshee had found its way into the bedroom. But there was no banshee, only a young alicorn who desperately needed to vent.

In just two short months from now, it will have officially been a year since she had first become an alicorn. An entire year since Twilight Sparkle the unicorn had, for lack of a better term, died. Only to be replaced by Twilight Sparkle the alicorn. Just a year ago, she had been no different than any other mare. She was just another unicorn, just living her best life and following her dreams to the best of her ability. But those dreams turned into nightmares when that entrance exam went horribly, horribly wrong.

Even now, she could distinctly recall what had happened as if it were only mere moments ago. Walking into the classroom, her family sitting by to quietly cheer her on as she attempted the trial. All she had to do was hatch an egg, that was it. It wasn't anything spectacular, it wasn't anything difficult. It was just an egg. Or at least, it should have been. It wasn't like any egg Twilight had ever seen before, more akin to a metal ball than anything else. But still, she tried. Nobody could take that away from her, she tried her absolute hardest to get whatever creature lay within to emerge. So hard, in fact, that she triggered a magic-overload. One so powerful that it had torn right through her body, like a paper bag in a hurricane of broken glass. And she felt every last drop of that agony. Her last moments—what should have been her last moments—still fresh and vivid like a bad dream that just refused to fade.

And then she woke up the next day.

Right as rain, perfectly healthy, not a single scar or burn or anything like that to speak of. But something was different, she didn't feel right. And her feelings had been confirmed when she had discovered the wings that now sprouted from her back. And everyone—mother, father, brother, Cadence—they were all so happy to see her. It was hard to be distressed about the wings, about actually dying, with such unbridled joy being aimed at her. She even managed to join in when they gave her the news. Her efforts had been rewarded, the egg had hatched. She had passed the exam, she got into her dream school. And all it took was her life.

But ever since then, there has been this lingering sense of doubt and dread somewhere in Twilight's mind. Some days it was easier to forget than others, but it was always there. This alicorn ascension—this miraculous second chance at life—was more than just that. It was a responsibility. It was pressure. It was stressful. Nobody ever mentioned it, but Twilight knew that there were more expectations of her now. She couldn't afford to fail her classes now, she was an alicorn. But it should be easy for her. After all, she was an alicorn now. She was given no other choice than to excel in every pursuit. The Queen wouldn't have given this impossible gift to her just to watch her squander her newfound potential, right?

There had to be a purpose or reason behind why Twilight Sparkle, of all the ponies who had ever lived, was chosen to be the first pony outside of royal blood to become an alicorn, right?

She had to be important, right?

This was her destiny, right?!

Maybe her family didn't have these expectations of her. Maybe the Queen didn't either, perhaps it was just as she said it was. "An act of kindness to one so young who did not deserve such a tragic end." That was the only answer she had ever been given, and it drove her absolutely insane. But not nearly as insane as another, much darker, realization. Twilight Sparkle had been transformed into an alicorn, and had gained all the boons that came with it.

A wellspring of magic that could theoretically outlast even the mightiest of unicorns.

The gifts of flight and cloud walking held so dearly by the pegasi.

The strength and stamina enjoyed by earth ponies.

And a lifespan that, without interference, could last forever.

That was what scared Twilight the most out of all of them. Of all the things the Queen had given her on that day, she tried so hard to keep that last one as far away from her overly analytical mind as she could. But still, she lingered on it. It wouldn't matter today, and it wouldn't matter tomorrow, but it would come around eventually. Time, cruel and unforgiving, was destined to take away everything she cared about. One doesn't often count how many years they have left in this world at Twilight's age, even rarer does one of her age count the lifespan of others as she has. How long did they have left? Sixty years? Seventy? Eighty?

Mere drops of water in the endless ocean of eternity that Twilight would live through.

Cadence would last longer, that much was certain, but even she wouldn't be around forever. Eventually, she would grow tired and ask to have her status as an alicorn revoked, as per the Crystal Empire's traditions.

Of course, Twilight had that option as well, technically. Twilight had researched the topic many a time, and thanks to the customs of the Crystal Empire, there was enough information on the subject to do so. She had found out that the spell was completely reversible. So long as she had access to a willing alicorn to cast the reversal spell on her, and she herself was willing to go through with it. Of course, there was always a catch. Thanks to the Crystal Empire, it was known that once the alicorn spell is removed, the subject is reverted to exactly as they were at the moment of their ascension. Age is undone. Injuries are undone. And, in some cases, injuries were redone.

So, Twilight had been given two choices thanks to her horridly unique situation.

Live forever.

Or die another horrible death.

And she didn't want to die. Not like that, not again. Even the idea of reliving that experience, even if only for the shortest of moments, horrified her to no end. There was no way she could bring herself to go through with it. Especially since her only options of having the spell undone were Cadence and the Queen who had given her this gift in the first place. Even if she could make that impossible choice, she couldn't bring herself to ask either one of them to be her executioner. They would never.

But the worst part? The absolute worst part of all of it? Nobody except for herself had seemingly figured this out. If they had, they either didn't bring it up, or it didn't bother them. They were all just so happy that Twilight was alive, not a single one of them brought mention to just how long she would be alive. And Twilight still couldn't drag up the courage needed to bring the topic up herself, despite having held onto these thoughts for nearly a year now. They were all so happy about this. They were all so happy for her.

She didn't want to ruin that for them. She didn't think she could ruin that for them. Who was she to take away their happiness? Their lives were so short, why make them worry about her problem? After all, they'd never lose her.

Finally, she managed to stop her unimaginable screaming. Her lungs had only allowed her to hold the shrill note for only a minute or three, but the burning in her throat made it feel like it had been hours. Tears had managed to push their way through her sealed eyes, she could feel them running down her cheeks and dripping down to the hardwood floor below. The alicorn fell back into a seated position as she began to wheeze and cough through her sobs, her body trying to compensate for the oxygen she had just deprived herself of.

I needed that, she thought as her gasps for air became fewer and farther between. It felt good to let that out after all these months of it building up and up. Even if nobody heard her, even if it was only for herself, it was still good to get that off of her chest. It wasn't a permanent solution, not by a long shot, but it helped. And nothing could take that away from her.

"Twilight?"

Oh no. Her eyes practically broke their way out of her eyelids. Twilight jerked her head upwards and looked over to where the question had come from.

Spike was found sitting atop what was formerly a large dog bed that was now a rather bird-like nest of old blankets, an old sleeping bag, and a large piece of well-chewed driftwood that the reptile had somehow found during his time here. It was a massive upgrade compared to his bed back in the tower, and this new sleeping arrangement would likely make its way over there once the next school year started.

But that wasn't important right now. What was important was the wide-eyed glare of shock and fear he had aimed at Twilight. It was clear to see that he had been sleeping before Twilight had come in and ruined that. Meaning the purple thing she saw downstairs was, in fact, a pillow. There was this uncomfortable silence that overtook the room, and Twilight could only gawk in shame as the long dragon exited his perch and approached her. She watched him walk a few small circles around her, seemingly looking for something, and furrowing his brow when he couldn't find it.

"Twilight... are you hurt?"

That was a sensible reaction, Twilight was able to surmise even now. She recalled at some point she had taught him only to scream in that manner if he was in pain, a measure to help keep him quiet when she needed to study. But even now, she could see that there was a milestone in his development. This was a sign that he had a capacity for empathy—or for sympathy, at the very least, which was a small discovery that served to distract Twilight from her own hectic thoughts.

"No, Spike. I'm not hurt... thank you."

"Twilight... are you hungry?"

Screaming when he was hungry, however, was a habit he had picked up on his own accord, a habit that Twilight was still trying to break him of. Granted, he didn't scream quite that loudly or for quite that long. It was more akin to whining than anything else, but it was still irritating.

"No, I'm not hungry, either. Thank you"

This was where Spike seemed to draw the line. He walked back around to look at Twilight right in the eyes, keeping his glance firmly locked on her for what felt like ages. He squinted intensely at the sitting pony just a few feet in front of him. Twilight, in the meanwhile, was curious as to what could be going through his head at the moment. Spike still looked like he was trying to find something. What that was, she didn't have the faintest idea.

And then, after finally finding what he was looking for, Spike suddenly stepped forward. He quickly drew himself as close to Twilight as he could, and he began to hug the sitting alicorn. Caught off guard, Twilight didn't know how to react at this, so she just kept looking down to the reptile now clinging to her chest. She didn't even have time to ask what he was doing, as he soon answered the question with one of his own.

"Twilight... are you scared?"

This was an unexpected development, and Twilight's wide-eyed reaction was evidence of this. She simply sat there for a moment, looking down at this small draconic entity currently doing his best to comfort her. He nuzzled into her chest as he pulled himself closer, much to Twilight's amazement. This was something new, something that she hadn't taught him. Tried as she might, she couldn't quite recall any time where he had demonstrated this kind of behavior, in any situation. It wasn't unwelcome, but it was unexpected.

He's trying to make me feel better. It was the only explanation that came to mind. Soon after, she found herself mindlessly returning the favor with hooves and wings. Spike seemingly appreciated the gesture, almost purring as they continued to sit there in one another's embrace.

As they continued to sit there, as the minutes stretched on into what felt like hours, there was this newfound sense of security and ease. An irrational knowledge that everything was going to be alright, even if very few of her problems had been solved. It didn't erase Twilight's worries and doubts about the future. It didn't undo the pressures she felt about being an alicorn. It didn't change her concerns that some aspect of her ascension was being hidden from her. And it didn't change the fact that she would outlive so many people she cared about. But that didn't matter right now. Nothing mattered right now. In this one, solitary moment, everything else just faded away as this dragon—her dragon—did his best to console her.

Right now, there was only Twilight Sparkle and this wonderful little creature that had fallen into her life. A wonderful little thing that loved her with all his heart, and that she would love just as much in return.

For however long that a long dragon lived for. Which, if his more well-known cousins were anything to go off of, would be a very, very long time.