Credit to Tsitra360 on Deviantart
Speed Reader shut the Zoological Zebra Index and replaced it on the shelf right next to the Yak Yellow Pages. Then she blew out of her composite snout in exasperation. Her job was unfortunately done.
The Wonderbolt Academy Barracks had a larger library catalogue than even her Rainbow Dash half had expected, but per her name, Speed Reader had still managed to organize the entire room in less than ten minutes. To occupy herself afterwards, she’d opted to casually skim and memorize every single volume she’d just alphabetized, which had kept her busy for an additional... (she stuck her head out of the nearest window to let her Twilight half calculate how far the sun had moved) ...twenty minutes. Speed Reader would be stuck idling for another half hour until the spell holding her together finally wore off.
Suddenly seized by an irrational worry that a passerby might fly past the barracks and see her, the amalgamate alicorn stopped her sungazing and backpedaled away from the window. Speed Reader could very acutely feel the dormant threads of her two component ponies marbling through her compound brain, and the foalish fear of being spotted on a campus closed for spring break was definitely coming from Twilight. After all, if it somehow got out that the crowned Princess of Equestria had given into the Wonderbolt Grand Marshal’s badgering to help magically cheat on chores, the nobility would never let the laughable misuse of Merge Magic fade from public memory. Best stay inside til the spell expired, came Twilight’s unconscious vote.
Rainbow Dash’s influence however, wasn’t so satisfied with its vessel just sitting around. It wanted to take a few laps around the test track now that work was all done, and even now, Speed Reader’s borrowed wings were ruffling restlessly as her tail dock twitched with aerial anticipation. Stay in claustrophobic library. Soar around risky outdoors. The opposite, silent orders were ringing in Speed Reader’s hot ears. She gave a full body shake, but it didn't help. Dash and Twi weren't just voices in her head; they were her head.
Still, Speed Reader’s conscious mind was mostly her own. And it was just the tiniest bit resentful that her two neurotic creators hadn’t stopped to consider that combining themselves would result in a very bipolar pony. Pathetic as it was, an idea came to Speed Reader that she ought to pen a polite but firmly worded note for her halves to find afterwards, asking that they never ever conjure her up again. Being double high-strung like this was pretty awful.
With no other task to occupy herself, Speed Reader paced around the study, searching for a quill and spare piece of parchment to pen her request. She had access to Dash’s knowledge, but even coming up on her second summer as the Wonderbolts’ new Grand Marshal, Rainbow Dash hadn’t bothered figuring out where the library kept their writing supplies. Twilight’s memories were no help either; The Princess knew the layout of a lot of government buildings, but the Wonderbolt Barracks wasn’t one she’d studied up on. Speed Reader was on her own here, as much as somepony like her could technically consider themselves ‘on their own.’
Without realizing it, Speed Reader had actually made her way out of the library and into the main hall. Must have been Dash’s wanderlust acting up. She’d also begun muttering select passages from the most recent species catalogue she’d flipped through. Sheesh, Even Twilight’s habits were embarrassingly academic.
“While winged zebras are exceedingly rare, several zegasus hybrids have worn Wonderbolt fatigues throughout Equestria’s history. The most recent on record is Commodore Kijivu, who served as Grand Marshal Daedalus’s lieutenant for an academy record-breaking nine moons.”
Speed Reader found herself actually quite enjoying the sound of her integrated speech. It had a sort of bronzy timbre that somehow sounded different from either of the voices used as its ingredients. That was a comfort, Speed Reader supposed. Sure her head was a cross-wired mess, but at least she had a silver tongue to vet her thoughts.
“Zebrican cultural attitudes towards responsibility make them good recruits, but unreliable officers as they tend to resign from their high-ranking posts for penitent reasons. Even Commodore Kijivu’s aforementioned nine moon tenure was served in two separate furloughs; He voluntarily suspended himself for several weeks after failing to save his commanding officer’s daughter from falling to her death. For details on Stock Image, see the Faculty Family Files. For a psychological profile of Kijivu, consult the appendix.”
A sudden thud sounded somewhere up the staircase to Speed Reader's left, echoing through the supposedly vacant building and startling the fusion so badly that her conflicting instincts actually synched up for once. She was already beating her wings and hovering defensively by the time her horn was primed, but she quickly relaxed both with a small snort of annoyance before settling back onto the floor. The academy barracks were empty, she reminded herself. Not even the cleaning crew was here this week, which was why Dash had roped Twilight into helping her tidy up. Besides, (her Twilight knowledge supplied), thermal updrafts were very common at this altitude. A stray gust could have easily-
Another thud, this one much louder than the first, reverberated down the staircase and was immediately followed by an angry “Get the buck open, Faust damn you!”
Continued thuds, now recognizable as hooves kicking a door, continued as Speed Reader swallowed dryly. She wasn’t a combat fusion (she sorted books for Goddess’s sake), but the upper floor housed Dash’s office. Which, Speed Reader grudgingly admitted, was technically her office for the next twenty-four minutes. And somepony was clearly breaking in.
Purple-hued urges to get away from danger pushed hard against blue ones demanding that Speed Reader charge in and protect her belongings. With a chuff, she vetoed both and began quietly creeping up the staircase towards her office and the unknown burglar. Truth be told, Speed Reader was feeling spitefully defiant of how relentlessly her halves kept telling her what to do all the time. She was her own pony for the next twenty-three minutes, and before she mercifully expired, Speed Reader had some curiosity to satisfy.
The thuds concluded with a slam followed by a scuffle of hooves on floorboards, letting Speed Reader know the normally sturdy door of the Grand Marshal’s Office had been bested. Whoever the burglar was, they were strong. Being in possible danger made Speed Reader’s twin hearts thump faster in antsy trepidation. As she climbed the stairs, she was dimly aware that in her excitement she’d begun reciting more memorized passages, this time from Alicorn Anthropology, the first book she ever picked up.
“No Alicorns have ever served in the Wonderbolt core, and only one ever underwent cadet vetting before citing familial obligations and withdrawing. Nevertheless, Mi Amore ‘Cadance’ Cadenza’s training results are well documented: Average flight speed, but three world-record breaking performances in Cloudkicking Endurance, Dizzatron Recovery, and Wing-Ups. Her use of illumination magic in the Midnight Flight course and telekinesis during team Flag Hunting technically brought Cadenza’s record holdings up to five, but (per Grand Marshal Spitfire’s decision) the two feats were filed under a newly created ranking for magic-enabled trainees. The Midnight Flight standing was later surpassed by a fire-breathing hopeful (for details on Smolder, see the Dragon Database), but Cadenza’s other four records remain unchallenged and will remain so until another Alicorn walks the barracks halls. For a psychological profile of Cadenza, consult the appendix.”
Speed Reader reached the top of the stairs, mouth dry. Partially from speaking the longest monologue of her short life, but more from the reality that the burglar was mere meters away. Speed Reader poked her head out of the stairwell, eyes adjusting to the gloom as she saw the office door wide open and the silhouette of a pony yanking out desk drawers and leafing through papers between frustrated, feminine grumbles. Whoever was raiding the academy, she wasn't finding what she was looking for.
“Another Alicorn walks the barracks halls,” Speed Reader whispered with a twinge of self-affirming giddiness.
The unidentifiable silhouette of a burglar kicked shut the last drawer on Rainbow Dash’s desk and stepped back, looking almost forlorn in her failure to find whatever it was she'd been after. Her knees shook with what Speed Reader initially guessed was sad, bitter defeat. That was before the burglar furiously bashed her front hoof into a wall portrait. Then she donkey kicked a chair over, growling so loud she had to pause her tantrum to have a gurgling coughing fit.
Okay, Speed Reader decided it was probably time to interrupt.
With a singular beat of her oversized wings, Speed Reader rocketed into the room and tackled the intruder. A brief and extremely one-sided wrestling match began and ended with Speed Reader’s snorting, sweaty opponent pinned face-down on the floor. The fusion cleared her throat and channeled Twilight’s gentle but disapproving tone.
“Just because you d-“
“Get off of me!!”
The failed burglar thrashed with enough ferocity to put a Nirik to shame, but Speed Reader had the strength of two ponies. She held firm and tried again.
“Just because you didn’t find any of my stuff worth stealing doesn’t mean you can just break it all before leaving.”
The burglar stopped straining just long enough to fling a few insults.
“Your stuff? As if. Don’t whiz on my leg and tell me it’s raining; This is Dash’s office. And you’re not Dash. I can tell by your voice and -urgh!- how freaking heavy you are.”
“You and Rainbow Dash know each other?” Intrigued, Speed Reader ignited her horn, wondering who exactly was heaving in her hammerlock.
What she saw was a blonde, mohawked Pegasus trying to look defiant as she winced from the sudden glare.
“Lightning Dust!” Speed Reader blurted in instinctive recognition.
Anger flared in Speed Reader. Petty, catty anger that wasn’t her own. Dash’s raw contempt found its way into her fusion’s forelimbs so they squeezed down harder, but Lightning Dust’s gasp of pain gave Speed Reader the burst of willpower she needed to roll off before she hurt the other pony any further.
Lightning Dust seized on her sudden freedom, getting airborne in a flurry of feathers, but balking when she finally saw the goliath of a pony who’d pinned her. Lightning Dust wasn’t exactly short stuff, but the creature who’d caught her was easily twice a regular pony's size with wings to match. Lightning Dust didn’t bother wondering why in Tartarus a hulking alicorn happened to be in a military school that was supposed to be closed for the week. All she cared about was getting away. Even if it meant leaving without what she’d come to get, Lightning Dust had an all-consuming need to fly as far away as possible from this beast who’d humiliated her.
Except the giant’s sitting spot was right in the doorway, blocking Lightning Dust’s only escape path.
Credit to Tsitra360 on Deviantart
“L-let me past,” Lightning Dust demanded.
“Not liable to happen.”
“Let me past!”
“Aren’t you even curious how I knew your name?”
“No. Get out of my way!”
“You’re not as cool and collected as Dash’s memories paint you.”
The nonsensical insult boiled Lightning Dust’s blood, but before she could angle herself to charge and sucker punch the disrespectful behemoth, it cocked its head and said something else:
“So what were you looking for? And can I help you find it?”
Too stunned to keep flapping her wings, Lightning Dust dropped to the floor.
“Help me…?” She didn’t understand. Was she being tricked?
“Sure. I’ve already finished my chores and I’m feeling rebellious. What better way to buck Dash’s whining in my mind’s ear than being nice to her sworn rival? Besides, Twilight approves of me hearing you out.”
Lightning Dust opened and closed her jaw a few times, but no words came out. She preened her left wing, something she often did to hide her nervousness from others. The giant pony seemed to have a few screws loose, but then again so did Lightning Dust. That was actually why she’d come here; to get the file that was her ticket to-
“I’m gonna need an answer in the next fifteen minutes,” the giant added gently.
“Why?” Lightning Dust snapped her gaze back to the giant. “What happens in fifteen minutes? Is Rainbow Dash due back?”
The giant bit its lip and smiled impishly. “Hmmm. Yes ma’am. She definitely is.”
“I need my file,” Lightning Dust urged.
She wasn’t yet ready to face Rainbow Dash. Her counselor had very firmly told her she wasn’t. That was why Lightning Dust had specifically chosen Spring Break to sneak in and fetch her old documents; it was the only week out of the year Dash wasn’t supposed to be around. Apparently she was around though, which meant Lightning Dust didn’t have a minute to lose.
“The staff keeps files on every Wonderbolt who comes through here,” Lightning Dust went on as quickly as she could without becoming incoherent. “Even ones on the cadets who never made it past boot camp. Cadets like… like me. My great uncle Wind Rider said the academy never throws anything out, so the stuff on me should probably be sitting half-fossilized in one of the Grand Marshall’s office drawers, but I turned this place upside down and there’s nothing.”
“Great uncle, huh? That explains a lot. What you’ve got must run in your family.” The giant giggled girlishly to herself, unaware of Lightning Dust’s rekindled fury.
“Who told you what I’ve got?!” Lightning Dust squeaked through a throat pinched shut by shame and panic.
“Huh? Nopony’s told me anything about you. It’s just that comparing memories of Wind Rider with memories of you suddenly makes a lot of… wait, are you sick or something?”
Lightning Dust wondered if the giant could hear her teeth grinding helplessly. She didn’t want to admit anything. She didn’t have to admit anything. But she’d already tipped her hand. Jumped the gun. Slipped her mask. Plus, the giant seemed genuinely concerned, and Lightning Dust’s counselor had told her very plainly that a big symptom of her condition was that it was hard for her to admit it to others. So with all the willpower she had, Lightning Dust managed to choke out:
“Yes. I am. I need my files so my shrink can make me better faster.”
The giant made an expression that was hard to interpret through the glaze of Lightning Dust’s embarrassed tears. But eventually she nodded before turning and heading down the steps outside the office.
“The academy library is down here,” the giant’s voice called up the stairwell. “Come on. I’ll help you find what you’re looking for.”
Lightning Dust preened her left wing again, making sure the feathers thoroughly wiped her eyes dry. Then she bolted out of the office and caught up to the giant in the lower hall. The two trotted past several doors without speaking before Lightning Dust thought of something to say.
“I’m sorry about the ‘whiz’ comment.”
“Hm?”
”Earlier when I said ‘don’t whiz on my leg and tell me it’s raining.’ That was crass and rude and I shouldn’t have said it.”
“Are you apologizing because you’re actually sorry, or are you apologizing because it's what you were taught to do?”
Lightning Dust lowered her head again, then flinched when the giant draped a soothing wing over her withers.
“It's alright. I forgive you either way.”
Lightning Dust only managed a snort in response as the giant’s wing left her shoulder and the two of them passed several more doors in silence.
“You know,” the giant ventured, “If you really wanted to be a polite pony, you could ask me what my name is.”
“Huh? Oh.” Lightning Dust swiveled her ears apprehensively. “What is it?”
“What’s what?”
“Your name.”
“Ask me politely.”
Lightning Dust was about to fling another insult, before realizing the giant was trying to give her a chance.
“Oh. Um... What is your name?”
“Speed Reader. Came up with it myself. I’m the part time librarian around these barracks.”
“Huh. Well that explains how you know where the archives are.”
“That it does.” As if on cue Speed Reader put one of her oversized hooves on a door to her left and disappeared through it. Lightning Dust’s hasty backpedaling left mint green scuff marks on the hallway floor as she followed her new ally into a small but admittedly cozy academy library. While Speed Reader leafed through a big binder labeled The Cadet Catalogue, Lightning Dust leaned on a nearby ottoman and did her best to look casual.
“So you know just where to find anything you need in here, huh?”
“That I do,” Speed Reader proudly confirmed, pulling out a leaflet and cantering over. “I should hope so, since I spent half my lifetime organizing this place’s contents.”
“It took that long?”
“Yep. A whole half hour.”
Lightning Dust had given up trying to understand the giant’s offhoof comments. At least she’d fetched the files Lightning Dust would have never found on her own. The one-time cadet snatched her prize from Speed Reader and skimmed the choice words the Wonderbolt archivist had bothered to jot down about a pony who’d been booted on her first day of training. They weren’t nice words by any stretch, and even though Lightning Dust couldn’t help her compulsive anger at all the unflattering descriptions of her conduct, she also felt gleefully hopeful at the indictments. At last, she had them: official papers confirming she had some sort of condition. Legally verifiable and enough to get her on the Canterlot Psychiatry Ward’s priority case list. Speedy Recovery had been a helpful temporary counselor these past few months, but Lightning Dust was filled with grandiose glee to know soon she’d have a real, professionally trained therapist who’d use their skills to fix her broken brain for good. Her manic smile faltered however when she got to the end of the page.
“Umm.. It says here ‘for a psychological profile on Lightning Dust, consult-”
“The appendix,” Speed Reader answered in an uncharacteristically grave tone. “I was hoping you wouldn’t need that one, but if you really do… here you go.”
The fusion extended her wing holding the second sheet and silently braced herself. Oblivious, Lightning Dust snatched this prize too and looked it over triumphantly. Then she looked it over a second time, dumbstruck. Finally, her rapidly ruffling feathers wrinkled the page margin and her knees began shaking just like when she was in Dash’s office.
“They saw,” she slurred out. “They saw and they didn’t even try to help me. They saw what was wrong and instead of referring me to a doc they just kicked me out!”
Speed Reader sat down to wrap both her wings around Lightning Dust, and to her immense relief the ex-cadet seized her in a desperate bearhug. Lightning Dust didn’t cry. She was far too proud for that. But she did shake with rage and betrayal at the unknown archivist’s callous understanding and subsequent dismissal of everything she was. Speed Reader didn’t need to review the page on the floor to know; her photographic memory could recall every word in the library.
Low empathy and socially domineering. Maliciously compliant with observable reckless behavior and poor emotional intelligence levels. Originally recommended by a relative (now a dishonorably discharged senior officer), and highly suspect of having Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Unfit for service. Discharge immediately.
As Lightning Dust continued hyperventilating into Speed Reader’s chest fluff, the latter gently stroked her wilting mane. Eventually Lightning Dust finally seemed to calm down, so Speed Reader spoke up once more.
“Do you know why I decided to help you get your file?”
“No,” came an utterly defeated reply. “I didn’t think a second thought about it. I don’t give a second thought about anyone.” That admission of failure looked like it was about to spark another internalized meltdown, so Speed Reader crouched down for them to see each other eye to eye.
“It’s because I also know what it's like to have a brain that’s put together wrong.”
Lightning Dust blinked in disbelief. “You…?”
“Mm-hm. I’m neurotic enough for two ponies, and that’s not an exaggeration.”
“I… I wouldn’t have guessed. I mean, I guess not everything you say makes sense, but I still wouldn’t have guessed. You… you hide what you are a lot better than I can.”
“Not really. You just don’t look very hard at others. For obvious reasons.”
Lightning Dust shivered. “I didn’t get diagnosed until a few moons ago, but I got… k-kicked out of the Wonderbolts years before that. All this time, the staffers had me figured out. And all this time I didn’t have a clue.”
Speed Reader glanced at the sun outside the nearby window and let her Twilight half do one of its quick calculations. “Speaking of time, Rainbow Dash is due back in less than three minutes.”
Lightning Dust made an almost griffon-like squawk before fumbling to scoop her papers from the floor. Hugging them tight to her chest, she got airborne and peered around like a hunted animal.
“Here, out the window,” Speed Reader suggested as she undid the latch. “If you ever need me again, just-”
Lightning Dust was out of the academy in an instant and before Speed Reader had time to blink away any surprise, the ex-cadet was barely a speck on the horizon.
“-just come back and tip over a few bookshelves,” she finished for no one’s benefit but her own. “I guarantee Dash’ll conjure me again to clean them up.”
Speed Reader sighed, then smiled, then shut the window. Forgotten the instant she was no longer an asset. Lightning Dust’s diagnosis was definitely an accurate one, despite how hard she was clearly working to overcome it.
Pity neither Twilight nor Rainbow Dash knew about any of this, nor would they ever know since Speed Reader’s memories wouldn’t endure after she dissolved. It would be a relief to return to the aether and be free of the buzzing, wordless voices in her head, but despite Lightning Dust’s insensitivity, Speed Reader couldn’t help pitying her. There would be no sweet release for Lightning Dust. No escape from her own poorly wired brain at the end of the hour. The ex-cadet didn’t even have any pony in her corner encouraging a reconciliation with Rainbow Dash.
Wait. Speed Reader’s old plan. The one to write a note for her halves to find.
The nearly expired fusion burst out of the library and galloped up the stairs to Rainbow Dash’s office, praying to Faust she’d get there in the next hundred and thirty seconds.
Hundred twenty nine seconds.
Hundred twenty eight seconds.
Hundred twenty seven…
“This isn’t the library,” Twilight noted aloud.
“Gee, ya noticed too, huh? Must be that Princess wisdom of yours.” Rainbow Dash took a few blind steps in the direction she reckoned a lamp was. “Why’s it so dark in- Ow! Son of a broodmare!”
Twilight lit her horn. The two of them were idling in the Grand Marshal Office. Or Twilight was, anyway. Dash was writhing on the rug next to an overturned chair, clutching her shin with her eyes scrunched shut.
“Whoa,” Twilight breathed as she surveyed the room. “Looks like our fusion threw a party or something.”
“Huh? AAUUGH!” Her banged shin completely forgotten, Rainbow Dash raced around in circles, blowing the already messy papers and open drawers around like a miniature hurricane. “My office! What- who- Ohmygosh the glass on my portrait is broken. The glass on my portrait is broken!”
Twilight stepped back and out towards the stairwell, confused, but just a little bit amused that for once she wasn’t the most panicked pony in the room. Dash seemed to tire herself out pretty quickly as she landed to pick pieces of glass from the carpet fibers and fit them on her Grand Marshal portrait like she was completing Equestria’s pointiest puzzle.
Deciding that Dash had everything under control here, Twilight turned to go check if the library had at least gotten organized. As she did, she saw a loose leaf of paper tied to the stairwell door handle by a tail hair halfway between Rainbow Dash’s and her own. The hornwriting was scrawling and spidery, as if the pony who’d done it was in a hurry. The words were still legible though.
Hi Twi,
I’m taking a fifty-fifty gamble guessing you’ll be the one who finds this. Got a good feeling it’ll be you, though. First off, despite the state of Dash’s office, I want to assure you everything’s fine and the library is in perfect shape. Sort of. Two inconsequential pages are going to be missing form teh from the archives, but for good reason.
An unexpected guest showed up looking for help who turned out to need some help. I did the best I could for her, but what she really needs is somepony with experience. I know you remember a pony named Lightning Dust, so-
A concerned frown formed on Twilight’s face as she read her departed fusion’s report of the previous hour. By the time she reached the end, her tail was swishing uncontrollably.
“I’m leaving,” she announced over her shoulder.
“Huh?” Rainbow Dash looked up from her hopeless jigsaw project just in time to see Twilight’s shadow disappear down the stairs. “Where’re you going?”
“To catch up with someone,” came the echoing reply.