Dear Princess Celestia,
Friendship is indeed magical and thus able to survive hardships that any pony would think should destroy it. But I have learned that the revelation of deception can damage friendship, and other relationships, with a far lighter touch than any outside difficulty could manage. It is very clear why Honesty is one of the Elements of Harmony. Friendship depends upon it so very much. I can only hope to live up to the example that was set for me and be true to myself and my friends and hope everything works out in the end.
Your Faithful Student,
Twilight Sparkle
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Spike reluctantly sent the letter Twilight dictated to him after several lonely days. She tried to continue as normal but she couldn’t help but be aware of the absence of her friends. It wasn’t fair to say that they were avoiding her. Pinkie Pie least of all. Of everypony, only she seemed to act as though nothing had happened. The fact that she had known all along meant that for her nothing had, Twilight supposed.
The others were friendly and warm enough when she happened to see them about town, but nopony had stopped by the library in days. They didn’t always see each other every day, but this was far longer than she was used to going without some sort of visit. It didn’t help that she just hadn’t been able to shake her hurt feelings after Shining Armor’s catastrophic visit. She just wished she knew what she was supposed to do. It had been so long since she had needed to deal with ponies as an individual instead of a princess.
So in true Twilight Sparkle fashion, she turned to research. She spent the days after her letter had been sent examining herself. She carefully cataloged her routine and recorded her observations and thoughts in a fresh diary she had bought just for this purpose. Every habit, tic, and stray line of thought was recorded. She had even tasked Spike with recording his observations of her in a journal of his own.
At the end of a week’s worth of diligent recording she set the two new books out and began to compare them to the diaries left by the original Twilight. Not only did she look at the recorded behavior of that Twilight, but her comments about her relationship with Celestia. It was an eye opening experience. For the first time in centuries she thought back to the time she spent as protégé. When she realized the fact that the Celestia she had studied under had taken her place and had possession of her diaries, just as she now had these, she nearly died of embarrassment.
She had been raised in a poor family that had struggled to get by. All of that had changed when she had drawn the attention of the Princess. Suddenly they were all thrust into the Canterlot life. Every need was supplied, modestly by Canterlot standards, but it was luxurious for her family. So Twilight’s worship of Celestia was, if anything, paltry in comparison to her own. Looking back now she understood many comments and knowing looks she had received, but been completely confused by at the time.
“You okay Twilight? You look a little flushed,” Spike asked, breaking her train of thought.
“Um, yes. I’m uh… It’s just that… Uh, this is kind of embarrassing,” she stuttered clumsily.
“Oh. Okay then,” he shrugged, suddenly disinterested and returned to his nap.
With a sense of relief she shoved her memories to the back of her mind and returned to her work. Reading what her protégé had written about her was a much needed balm for her bruised feelings. It also added to her own realization that she should tell Celestia that it would be polite of her to suggest the next protégé be warned to dispose of their personal diaries before the switch. Once again memories of things she had written came flooding back and set her cheeks aflame.
“Sweet Celestia, why didn’t I burn them!” she moaned, banging her head on the table hard enough to sting. “Ow.”
After several hours of reading she had made a couple of realizations about the situation. The first was that it was clear that she was acting and thinking much less like Princess Celestia now. How she acted wasn’t her main focus though. She clearly had to act like Twilight Sparkle; that was a given, but her thinking had changed. The more she thought about it, the more she was sure that this was simply due to being removed from the role of princess. It had been so long since she was simply the pony she had been born as that she wasn’t sure she could remember what “normal” for her was. Twilight’s personality, beyond necessity, was familiar and comfortable to slip into. Her confrontation with Shining Armor served to show her that her demeanor as Celestia was still there if she needed it.
“At least I’m not losing myself,” she whispered to herself with relief.
Her second realization brought a smile to her face for the first time in several days. She hadn’t been able to escape feeling like she was becoming more, for lack of a better word, neurotic. This, more than anything else, was what had been worrying her. She knew that acting a certain way would eventually become habit, so picking up Twilight’s habits was natural. The growing sense of panic, and concern over controlling tiny details, however, had scared her to death. What she had finally figured out after reading through all of the diaries was that the schedule and standards the original Twilight had set for herself, and by extension the pony now living in her horseshoes, was enough to make anypony go crazy.
With a chuckle she looked around at the array of books surrounding her. Aside from the collection of diaries and journals there were books on psychology, and several volumes on the effects of powerful magic on ponyality traits. In the span of a few days she had read as much on mental health as she would have in a full course at Manehatten’s best universities. With a shake of her head she resolved to start working some small changes into her routine.
“Spike! I’m going out for ice cream,” she stated loudly, rousing the napping dragon.
“But what about re-shelving?” he asked sleepily.
“I’ll do it later,” she replied with a smile.
“Okay, but according to your schedule you’re supposed to start a paper on Equestrian political history now,” he mumbled through a yawn.
“I don’t care!” she said defiantly and trotted out the door.
A very confused Spike was left staring at the door behind her, unsure if the world was preparing to end.