//------------------------------// // VI - Morning Science // Story: The Distant Princess // by GMBlackjack //------------------------------// Science and magic are two powerful forces that continually find themselves at odds. Not because either one denies the other—only a foolish scientist would deny the existence of the driving force behind so many of the world’s developments. Similarly, only an idiotic wizard would ignore the laws of thermodynamics and burn their hands off with a haphazardly constructed fireball spell. The battle between science and magic is slightly more subtle than that. Science is concerned with what can be observed, replicated, and tested. Magic is concerned with the emotional center of an individual’s imagination, a realm notoriously difficult to rigorously test. More often than not the two disciplines end up talking past each other since their fundamentals are orthogonal—not, as many believe, hostile to each other. This isn’t to say there aren’t wizarding scientists, or scientific wizards. They do exist and tend to become figures of legend. There are two distinct types: those who are fully aware of the precarious near-contradiction they live in, and those who haven’t the foggiest idea. ~~~ Twilight woke up slightly cold, but otherwise well-rested. Gradually, she opened her eyes, not all that surprised to see that Rainbow Dash had rolled off her bedroll and slept on the floor next to the now-extinguished fireplace. At the edge of her vision, Pinkie was still sound asleep, snoring intensely, though not loud enough to wake people up. It wasn’t dark, so the sun must have been up, and that was as good of an excuse as any for Twilight to wake up the rest of the way. Cautiously, she rose to her hooves, careful not to make noises that would interrupt her friends’ peaceful slumber. As she stretched, she looked around the cabin. Not much had changed throughout the night, though Twilight realized the cabin was larger than she’d previously thought with multiple attached rooms and… was that a staircase to a basement? Probably where Bonnibel stored seeds and farming supplies. Marceline was nowhere to be seen, but Twilight saw Bonnibel out the main window, tending to the pumpkin patch, shotgun still slung over her back. The weapon made Twilight uneasy—ponies in Equestria didn’t use such things to keep their crops safe from monsters. Harming another creature was usually seen as a last resort, and even then many wouldn’t take it. Twilight knew full well that sometimes drastic action was required, but this did little to quell her unease. That said, she did walk out of the front door to greet Bonnibel. “Good morning!” Twilight called, careful not to step on any of the plants. Bonnibel gave her a warm smile. “Morning. Sleep well?” “Yes, actually, even I’m surprised.” “Glad to hear it. Peps always knows how to make everyone comfortable. ...When he’s trying.” Twilight decided not to dig into that. “So… pumpkin farming.” “Yes. It’s a surprisingly rewarding line of work.” Bonnibel reached down and carefully examined one of the growing fruits for damage. “Food may be easy to come by in the Candy Kingdom, but healthy food is somewhat rare. There are more than just candy people within the borders, and they need a balanced diet. My pumpkin ‘kingdom’ will serve their needs.” “Making food for people that aren’t even like you? That’s very noble of you.” “Thanks.” Bonnibel stood to her full height. “We’re all part of the Candy Kingdom, though, and I’ll do whatever I can for them. Including putting up with varmints.” “Varmints?” “Dumb critters that turn my loyal fruits to squished mush. Marceline and I went out to take out their mother yesterday, but that didn’t completely solve the problem. It just means they won’t be breeding.” “Maybe you could find some use for them?” Twilight suggested. Bonnibel chuckled. “Just like a pony princess to consider that, huh?” “Yeah. They probably are pests but I can’t help but wonder if there are other ways. Habit, at this point. It’s r—wait.” Twilight cocked her head. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned I’m a Princess yet.” With a finger, Bonnibel gestured at Twilight’s wings and horn. “Oh.” Twilight flapped her wings a few times. “I guess I’m not exactly hard to identify. I’m just so used to ponies not recognizing me as a Princess I guess I sort of forgot about it.” “Most people here won’t know either,” Bonnibel said, turning back to her pumpkins. “I just happen to know a thing or two about the other nations of the world. Marceline had no idea who you were either.” “That might explain why she tried to scare us out of our horseshoes in the forest…” “No, she would have done that even if she knew. It’s who she is.” Twilight giggled. “Part of me wishes there were ponies like her back home. Princess Luna’s the closest, and she’s still coming to terms with being ‘the scary one.’ ” “How many Princesses are there these days? Four?” Twilight nodded. “Yep! I’m the youngest. Then there’s Cadence, Luna, and Celestia. In theory, we all share the throne equally, but Luna and Celestia have temporary seniority built into the system.” Bonnibel looked east, toward the Everfree forest. “...You’re a long way from them.” “Yeah… and several of my friends, too. But I have Pinkie and Rainbow with me, and now you and Marceline!” Bonnibel’s smile faltered slightly. “Why… are you here, anyway?” “A few weeks ago I observed an atmospheric phenomenon that turned the whole world purple for several hours and determined that its epicenter was somewhere on this side of the Candy Kingdom. I was supposed to take a rigorous survey of the surrounding land and magic levels to see if I could learn anything about the event, but…” She drooped. “All my measuring devices were destroyed in the crash. I’m not going to be able to learn anything about the Sparkling Comet.” Bonnibel set down the pumpkin she was holding and stared at Twilight. “W-what?” “You were going to perform a… scientific survey?” Twilight gulped, though she wasn’t sure why she was nervous. “Yes…?” With a coy smile Twilight hadn’t seen on her face before, Bonnibel gestured for Twilight to follow her inside. After a second’s hesitation, Twilight did as she was asked. They quietly snuck past the sleeping ponies to the stairs, after which they descended into the basement. It was dark, damp, and cold down there. Twilight couldn’t see anything, so she prepared a light spell. It turned out to be unnecessary, because Bonnibel turned on the light with the flick of a switch. What greeted Twilight’s eyes made her squee. A smooth, clean room filled with cabinets, countertops, and hundreds of little beakers. Several of them held chemicals or bizarre concoctions that just screamed chemistry. But there was so much more to see as well: a plasma ball twirling with green electricity, piles upon piles of notebooks adorned with hastily scrawled messages, numerous pots with experimental pumpkin breeds, star charts along one of the walls, a highly detailed map of Ooo, a few large devices made of metal that Twilight couldn’t ascertain the purpose of, a handful of screens, and a hologram projector. Instead of running to the flashiest things to the room, Twilight teleported right to the star chart. She traced her hoof over the planets. “Neptune, Uranus, Saturn, Jupiter, Ceres—hey you have Ceres!—Mars, Earth, and Venus.” Twilight gasped. “Oh. My. Stars.” She pointed at a ring just around the sun. “You have an accurately eccentric orbit for Lost Mercury! That’s… that’s amazing, I almost never see that!” Bonnibel was grinning as well, now. “I know, right? Every astronomy book I ever see, if it mentions Lost Mercury at all, has it in a boring circular orbit! It’s aggravating.” “You have no idea, I had to march into the Canterlot Royal Society and lecture them on their faulty cosmic mechanism. You think they would’ve hired some experts in the field to consult but noooooo.” “They had to go with the artists, right?” “Right!” Twilight tapped her hooves excitedly on the ground. “Oh, this is amazing! I… No offense, but I didn’t expect this when I walked in.” “I’m just a humble farmer,” Bonnibel said with an exaggerated bow. “Nothing to see here.” “And I’m just a froo-froo Princess with no need for ‘higher education,’ ” Twilight mimicked. “Let’s just forget that I’ve got stars on my flank for a moment!” She gestured at the starburst mark she had on her flank. “Does that represent a talent in astronomy?” Bonnibel asked. “Er, well, no, I just happen to like astronomy and the sciences. It’s actually a mark in magic itself. If you looked at Rainbow’s cutie mark, you’d think it might have something to do with weather or clouds, but it actually has to do with her speed...” She noticed Bonnibel’s look. “What is wrong with the term 'cutie mark?' It’s like every non-pony I meet…” “It sounds… silly.” Bonnibel broke into a grin. “But sometimes we all need a little silliness.” “Pinkie Pie would tackle hug you for that if she could hear you.” “I will be cautious not to mention it in her presence.” “Might not help. She has a way of… knowing.” “Is she a wizard too?” Twilight frowned. “I… hmm. I don’t… think so?” Bonnibel stared at her with concern. “No.” “No what?” Bonnibel asked. “No, we do not run experiments on her. Any attempts to understand her result in massive failure, even more so than usual arcane sciences.” Twilight shivered, remembering a very painful day involving things falling from the sky and a random hydra. “Never again.” “Forgive me if I don’t heed your warning.” “Your funeral.” There was a moment of silence between the two of them, followed quickly thereafter by giggling. “You’re not at all what I expected either, Princess!” Bonnibel said, coming out of the laugh. “When I heard about you and your connection to magic itself, I figured you would need a lot more madness and sadness than anyone I ever knew, but you don’t seem to have either. How do you do it?” “Well… let’s start by saying that I’m not sane, I hang around Pinkie regularly by choice. Sane ponies don’t do that.” Bonnibel chewed on this for a moment. “...I’ll grant you that.” “And as for the sadness…” Twilight smile faltered for a moment. “When… when I was still a student at Canterlot’s Royal College, I certainly was. Madness and sadness are the 'most effective' ways to increase magical aptitude, after all, so I didn’t really see any need to go make friends or enjoy myself. I convinced myself there was enough to keep me going just in the art of studying itself. I… Well, I became a master mage. But I had no friends and all that meant anything to me was studying.” “But…?” “But then I met them. And we discovered something… amazing. Sadness, or tragedy, is not the only emotional center that can channel magic.” “It isn’t?” Bonnibel asked, grabbing a notebook absent-mindedly. Twilight grinned, sensing she knew something Bonnibel didn’t. “No. We discovered the magic of friendship. Of harmony. When we first met, the six of us were able to tap into that power so rarely used in the world. And none of our lives have been the same since.” The pen Bonnibel was furiously dragging across the paper stopped. Carefully, she picked up what Twilight identified as a thaumometer and pointed it at the Princess. “Could you… demonstrate?” “Sure! But the really powerful magic requires all six of us. However, if I just think of them, I can…” Twilight’s horn encased itself in a threefold glowing aura and her eyes lit up like the stars themselves. A few alarms went off in the corners of Bonnibel’s lab, but neither of them paid the noises any mind. Bonnibel scribbled furiously while Twilight executed a complex spell, tapping into her connection with her friends… ~~~ ...miles away, a yellow pegasus tending to some rabbits in a pasture blinked. “Twilight, what are you doing?” ~~~ “Just giving off a magic demonstration, Fluttershy. We’re doing fine! We miss you!” Twilight released her magic aura in an instant, dropping to the ground. She was sweating profusely and looked profoundly haggard. “Th-there you go! Harmony magic.” Bonnibel’s jaw was hanging open. “I… you talked with someone all the way back in Equestria? Without a phone line?” “Yep!” Twilight smiled proudly, bowing. “So… yeah! I’ve never had to rely on the ‘sadness’ for magic since that day.” “This… this is groundbreaking!” Bonnibel threw her hands into the air, dropping the notebook on the ground. “Large scale magic use has always been unfeasible since complex spells have always, by nature, been parasitic. If this knowledge could be spread to the world, we could… we could… I don’t even know but I know it would be amazing!” “I… hadn’t thought about it that way before, but I like what you’re saying!” Bonnibel put her hands on Twilight’s shoulders. “Twilight, thank you. I have no idea what I’m going to do with this information but… thank you!” “It’s the least I can do.” With a frantic motion, Bonnibel ran to her holographic projector. “I haven’t got anything anywhere near as groundbreaking for you, but… I think you’ll like it anyway.” She pressed a button, setting the projector to display an object Twilight recognized immediately. “The Sparkling Comet…” “It’s actually called a Catalyst Comet,” Bonnibel corrected. “I know what it is, why it’s here, and probably how to answer most of your questions about it.” Twilight squealed. “Best. Day. EVER! I want all the details!” Bonnibel grabbed one of her notebooks, jumping up and down. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to share this with someone who doesn’t need it dumbed down! How familiar are you with calculus-based orbital mechanics?” “I wrote my thesis on it!” “Oh my glob I love you so much right now.” Twilight tore the notebook out of Bonnibel’s hands and began flipping through it frantically. “This… this is…” There was a loud crash from above them, followed by a couple male voices shouting. “It’s adventure time!” Twilight twitched, carefully folding up the notebook and laying it on the counter. “We don’t… have to deal with that,” Bonnibel suggested. “No… we could stay here.” “Definitely. They can handle themselves.” “Obviously.” “Peps knows a lot of dark magic hexes in case things go wrong.” “And Pinkie can dance around insanity with insanity that defeats all others.” “So… science?” “Science.” The two stood in silence for a moment. In unison, both of them let out exasperated sighs and ran up the stairs to deal with whatever had the gall to ruin their science time.