Before I realize it, Twilight Sparkle and I are marching up a calm, quiet hill. The leaves whisper in hushed tones as shadows flicker and flare across our figures, briefly obscuring the moon as it waltzes slowly across the night sky, preparing to peak as the time approaches midnight.
She walks ahead of me, carrying her wand in her left hand and her spellbook in her right. A gust of wind catches her hair and flings it outward, trailing behind her and allowing it to momentarily eclipse the rock in the sky that watches us silently as we approach our destination.
The entire evening is a blur, and to be honest, I have no idea how we got here. I slowly attempt to recall the night as we near the end of our walk. There was... there was the house. Yes, I had visited the House of Usher, and the inside was perfectly furnished while the outside remained dilapidated. Was I really sure about that? It couldn't have been... but, no matter. It happened. I must move on.
After I had entered the house, Twilight prepared tea and we sat in what appeared to be a living room. I remember her sipping gracefully at her chamomile tea while I stirred mine nervously. She soon broke the silence.
"I knew you'd show up," she had said, shooting a playful grin at me.
"You know a lot of things I can't quite grasp," I replied sternly. She frowned, and lifted herself from the wingback chair she had taken. I remember the sound of her feet scuffing the plush carpet as she relocated to the bookshelf and pulled a heavy tome from it.
"That book I gave you... feel free to keep it. It's yours."
"You don't have to-"
"That was a spare copy - I didn't need it. Please don't thank me for it, I actually had an ulterior motive for giving it to you."
She returned to her seat carrying the new volume she had taken from the bookcase.
"Do you remember our first meeting?" she asked softy, settling down into an air of sincerity and concern.
"Well, yes. I mean, it was just a few days ago-"
"No, I mean our first meeting."
"Oh..." I murmured, "well, not precisely, no..."
"You looked at me from across the library," she described, and slowly my memory picked up the threads to follow along, "I was carrying a large stack of books. piled from my midriff all the way up to my nose. And you approached through the crowd. You attempted to help me. You never reached me, but I could see the intention was there. I could see that look in your eye. You wanted to help me."
"Well," I cut in, "I do sort of-"
"Shh, just let me finish first, alright? Then you can say what's on your mind," she stared into my eyes, and I sat back on the ottoman to listen.
"You reminded me of someone," she continued, "that day, as you watched me struggle, you reminded me of an old friend. Someone I knew. Someone who was taken from me long ago. In your knit green cap and your purple windbreaker, with that lost and worried expression painted across your face, you looked like a ghost, like some figment of my past come back to haunt my present... I was afraid, because I didn't understand.
"But then you approached me. Three days ago you approached me and tried talking to me. I wasn't very receptive, as you'll recall. Not because I didn't like you, but because I was worried about what might become of this interaction. But your responses to my actions... the way you continued to try, no matter how I pushed you away... I couldn't help but trust you. And now, I'm realizing, I need your help more than ever.
"Now...say what you were going to say."
I glanced warily at her, before speaking up.
"I just have two questions."
"Ask away," she said, smiling and leaning backward in her recliner. I moved over from the ottoman to the couch so I could face her directly. It only then occurred to me that she had way too much furniture in that room.
"Well, first," I cleared my throat and took a sip of tea to calm myself, "there's been some rather odd stuff going on lately. At first I rather denied it was happening, but as of late it's gotten more difficult to ignore. I hoped you could shed some light on the subject, since most of it seems to revolve around you."
Twilight took a steep breath and exhaled slowly, before shooting a wild grin at me, "I was hoping you'd ask that."
I glanced quizzically at her as she set the tome in her lap down upon the table between us. She flicked swiftly through the pages before appearing to reach her destination. With a flourish, she turned the book around and slid it towards me.
The page displayed was titled Magical Beings and as a subtitle, displayed Section 4-A: Humans. I buried my nose in the page and quickly scanned the lines. Most of the concepts were lost on me. Human anatomy was mentioned sporadically, but most of the entry used vocabulary I was unfamiliar with. And for that matter, this header threw me for a loop. Magical Beings? Surely she didn't mean-
I looked back to Twilight. In her hand, she was twirling a small wooden shaft with a purple helix appended onto the end. She flicked it at the book, and the heavy volume snapped shut on the table before me.
"No..."
"Yep."
"But... how have you stayed quiet?"
"By being clever. And not taking stupid risks."
I paused, and watched her slowly twiddle the baton in her left hand.
"So you're really a... erm..."
"You can say it. I'm a witch."
"And that's... that's your..."
"My wand, yes."
I paused again, and pondered all the implications of her claims. Was she really telling all this... to me?
"You realize, if this town knew..." I said slowly, "...they would probably burn you at the stake."
"I'm well aware of the danger I'd be in if anyone found out."
"So tell me... why do you trust me?"
She sized me up for a moment, glancing from my suede shoes to my teal plaid shirt, to my eyes looking back at her, before replying.
"Did you see anything out of the ordinary, when I gave you that book? Any visions, any recollections, any memories you couldn't remember having? I think it's about time for you to tell me your story, Mister Heath Spike Kenbroth."
I snap back into reality, into the present time wherein Twilight Sparkle and I are hiking up a hill, as midnight approaches. I don't remember why midnight is important, but I'm guessing she explained it to me. We reach the peak, and she sets the book down on the ground.
"Take my hand," she says, "hold on tight, and don't let go, no matter what happens, until I say. Ready?"
I take her hand in mine, and grip it tightly, feeling the soft squeeze of her palm against my phalanges. She lifts her free hand up to the sky, pointing her wand sharply at the moon that hangs innocently above us. She looks over to me, awaiting my answer. My breathing is tense and heavy, and my brain is running amok with fear and hesitation.
"It's almost midnight, Heath Kenbroth. We need to hurry. Are you ready?"
I have no clue what awaits us, but slowly I nod.
Her wand lights up, and a moment later we cease to exist.