//------------------------------//
// Chapter 37: I’ve Been Bored Here For 30 Minutes~! 
// Story: Caverns & Cutie Marks: Our House Now 
// by TheColtTrio 
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    “Sister,” Princess Luna muttered, “should we not be here? We are still being hunted by those… ponies.”
    “It’s like I’ve always said, Luna,” Celestia sighed, “the nearer we are to danger, the further we are from harm.”
    Luna stared at her sister for a long moment. “I have never heard you say that,” the dark blue alicorn deadpanned. She stuck a wing out and rotated the joint. “Must we wear these uncomfortable uniforms?”
    Celestia sighed again. “We wouldn’t be very well disguised if we weren’t wearing them.” The white alicorn subconsciously scratched an itch under her horn. “The alicorns would never think to search for us within their own forces.” Luna looked around at the bustling camp and couldn’t help but agree. Albeit reluctantly. Dozens of alicorns walked or soared about them, fulfilling any and all tasks that were required in a military camp. All wore the same uniform the two incognito princesses were hiding in and none ever gave the duo a second glance.
    “So, are we supposed to wait here until we get caught or escape?” Luna asked.
    Celestia paused in her walking and gulped. “I’m… not sure,” she revealed. “This was a rather spur of the moment solution to our immediate quandary. I didn’t think much further beyond hiding immediately from the ponies hunting us.”
    Luna clicked her tongue. “Clearly,” she drawled. “I can only presume that you have a way to get us out of this camp without arousing suspicion? Particularly when that guard at the gate asks us who we are and fails to find us on the roster?”
    Celestia looked over her sister’s head at the indicated alicorn. Compared to the princesses, the alicorn checking its fellows in at the gate was massive. The clipboard he held with his magic was miniscule next to his sheer bulk.
    “I… had an idea or two,” Celestia admitted.
    Luna arched an eyebrow at her sister. “Are they good ideas?”
    Celestia shrugged. “That remains to be seen.” She nudged Luna with a leg. “Come. Let’s see if one of them works.” The white alicorn walked briskly over to the gatekeeper, not noticing Luna roll her eyes as she followed.
    “Excuse me, we’re checking in before we go on our patrol,” Celestia said when the disguised duo reached the massive alicorn.
    “Names,” the gatekeeper grunted, not looking away from his clipboard.
    “Mareiadoc Brandybuck and Ponygrin Took.” Celestia kept her face impassive, putting her centuries of dealing with Equestria’s movers and shakers to good use.
    The gatekeeper scanned his list, a frown forming on his face as he reached the bottom of the page. “Which division do you two report to?”
    Luna shot a look at her sister, raising an eyebrow. Eventually, Celestia responded. “We… just got in, so… probably the newest division?”
    A heavy sigh escaped the guard as he flipped through pages. “Right, sure. New division. As if the Strategos hasn’t made enough changes to our organization already. When did you get in?”
    “Just today.”
    The gatekeeper stopped. “No-pony’s come through the portal in at least a week,” he growled. “Which district of the Bastion were you two from, Mareiadoc and Ponygrin?”
    Celestia blanched. “Um…”
    “Near the castle.” Luna jumped in, suppressing her royal Canterlot accent. “We… worked closely with the Princesses.”
    “Hoofmaidens.” Celestia nodded, nodding at her sister. “We served the Princesses and lived near the palace grounds.”
    “Ah huh…” The gatekeeper set his clipboard down, looming over the princesses as he looked down his muzzle at them. “See, I served on the palace grounds.”
    Celestia swallowed hard. “Oh?”
    “Morning shift guard at the servant’s entrance. I was there for the better part of a decade.” Somehow, the guard managed to appear even larger when looking down at the diarchs. “I got to know everypony in the palace.”
    “Is that right…”
    “Personally.” The gatekeeper’s face was only a few inches away from Celestia’s, to the point where she could smell the oats he ate for breakfast. “So let me be very clear: I know exactly what’s going on here.”
    Luna stepped closer. “Sister…”
    Celestia held up a forehoof. “And what is going on here, my good guardspony?”
    The seconds ticked by, each one taking longer to pass than the one before. A bead of sweat formed on the side of Luna’s head, eyes switching between her sister and the gatekeeper. Carefully, she began gathering magical energy to disable the guard.
    The gatekeeper smiled. “As if a member of the Hoofstrong family wouldn’t be able to recognize their own Princesses, Lady Sol Eater.” He bowed his head, all hints of a threat gone from his mass. “And you as well,” he said with a bow to Luna, “Princess Penumbra.”
    Celestia blinked. “Oh.”
Luna simply stared. “Huh.”
    “I will say,” the gatekeeper continued, “your trick with the slightly different voices did throw me off at first. But I knew the moment I looked at you two who you were.” He tapped the side of his head with a forehoof. “It’s a talent, you see. One passed down the Hoofstrong family line for generations.”
    Celestia recovered first, coughing into her hoof as she recalled Twilight’s letters on the Alicorn’s leaders. She affixed a smug smirk on her face: one usually reserved for when she set a particularly challenging task for her royal pâtissière. “Consider me reasonably impressed,” she purred. “You will keep our actions in the highest confidence, of course.”
    “But of course!” The guard nodded. “A good ruler should walk amongst her subjects, even in disguise. These are dangerous times, and you wouldn’t want the rank and file to get lazy while fighting to liberate another world!” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Consider these lips sealed, my ladies. Secrecy is, of course, a skill passed down the Hoofstrong family line for generations.”
    The two alicorns nodded slowly, smiling mechanically at the gatekeeper and flapped their wings, quickly leaving the ground and the camp behind. They flew in silence for several minutes as they ascended to a comfortable cruising altitude.
    “Well, I think that went rather well,” Celestia commented cheerfully.
    “That was not a plan you had, was it?” Luna deadpanned.
    Celestia winced, grinning weakly at her sister. “Not exactly. However, it did get us out of the camp and far from those alicorns.”
    “Indeed,” Luna agreed. “Now what? Back to Canterlot? I am sure Blueblood is wishing we return as soon as possible.”
    “I’m sure he’s fine,” Celestia said dismissively. “So long as he listens to the Generals of the Guard and Twilight, I’m sure everything will turn out okay.”
    “Forgive me if I do not share your optimism,” Luna drawled. The duo flew in silence for a fair distance, scrutinizing the ground as they soared just below the cloud cover. The land below them was spotted with intermittent pockets of alicorns as well as the occasional fortified camp. As they flew over the Smokey Mountains, the two princesses could spot the picket line of alicorn controlled territory stretching north and southeast.
    “I cannot help but wonder where Discord has been during all this,” Luna mused.
    “Last I’d heard from him, he’d sent an apology letter about his part in that play that he directed,” Celestia said.
    “Ah.” Luna sniffed. “That. I remember that. I cannot fault the players, but the choice of iconography was rather insensitive.”
    “Discord is insensitive,” Celestia reminded her sister. “I say we look for him.”
    Luna sighed. “If you insist, sister.”
    “I do,” Celestia affirmed, flapping strongly. “Come.”


* * *


Discord lounged dramatically. “So you couldn’t live with having those three running rampant. And where did that bring you?” He snapped his talons and a highball glass of chocolate milk appeared in his grasp. “Back to me.”
Celestia and Luna stared at the mismatched creature, reclined on a tartan-patterned chaise lounge. “I suppose,” Celestia mused, “that we are all kinds of stubborn in that regard.”
“Sister,” Luna muttered. “How did we even get here? I don’t recall our path taking us anywhere before… well, this.”
“Oh ho ho!” Discord tossed his untouched drink away, where it landed neatly on an upturned ‘Discord’s Playground’ sign. “Well, when you go here just like all the others! No-pony ever finds their way to where I’ve got myself hidden away. They simply find themselves here.” He chuckled, stretching so that he took up the entirety of the couch. “So, come to apologize for ruining my masterpiece?”
“You did insult us quite gravely,” Celestia pointed out.
Discord rolled his eyes. “Oh, posh! Like you two didn’t spend the last thousand years treating me like some one-off villain, bent on reducing the world to its constituent chaotic parts.”
“You were,” Luna deadpanned.
“I don’t see what that has to do with it.” Discord sat up, his lower half remaining coiled across the lounge like a large snake. “So, what’d I miss? Twilight put an enchantment on my little grotto so I couldn’t interfere with the goings-on outside. No newspapers, no TV, not even a Tweeter feed!” He sighed, upper body going limp and flopping across the back of the lounge. “I’ve been soooooooo dreadfully bored.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “So you don’t know what’s happening in Equestria?”
“The last I heard, Twilight lost control of her boytoys and they made it their life’s work to severely inconvenience her. After that?” Discord shrugged. “It’s been old episodes of M.A.R.E.S.H. and Harpy Days for me.”
“That sounds… nice,” Luna said slowly. She cleared her throat. “I suppose it would not hurt to tell you of what has occurred of late in Equestria.”
“Please do,” Discord whined. “I feel so out of touch that it's killing me!” A dagger appeared embedded in his torso and he collapsed dramatically on his lounge chair. Celestia and Luna blinked at the draconequus while he held his pose for longer than was really necessary. He bent his neck to look at the pair. “It wouldn’t happen to be the Ides of March, would it?”
“It’s August,” Luna deadpanned.
“Curses!” Discord clicked his claws in frustration. “Too late for Yulemas in July.” He flicked his wrist and his drink soared back to him. “So, how’ve things been going?” He poured the drink into a mouth that opened on his hip.
Celestia shook herself and inhaled deeply. After exhaling, she spoke. “First off, we allowed that senate thing to assemble itself. Frankly, one of my better allowances, I believe. We did have a little trouble with a rather polarizing senator from the Pony North West who called himself Baelhart.”
Discord promptly sat up on his seat and spat his drink out onto Luna. “He called himself who now?!” he gasped, genuine shock written in big block letters on his face.
“Baelhart,” Luna growled, grabbing a cushion off Discord’s lounge and mopping her face off with it. “He proposed the enactment of a bill that would assemble a committee to police the Elements of Harmony.”
Discord looked at the two princesses in dumb silence, jaw on the ground.
“The committee is called the ‘Panel of International Situation Solutions’ and works to identify the proper response to problems inside and outside of Equestria,” Celestia continued.
“Now that is a travesty!” Discord cried.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Celestia said. “The Elements are an autonomous entity that can operate without oversight. I intended for them to work that way.”
Discord blinked at the white alicorn. “I wouldn’t call that a travesty,” he said. “Maybe a mild inconvenience, but not a travesty. The real travesty is this Baelhart thinking PISS is a good pun to make! Honestly, was SHITE taken? What about COLTS? Counsel fOr Lackadaisical Triumvirate Schemes is better by miles!”
Celestia stared at the draconequus. “Discord,” she said flatly. “This means that Twilight and her friends can’t protect Equestria from threats without the panel’s oversight.”
“Hence, inconvenience.” Discord waved a claw. “I’m sure they can convince some pencil-pushers to let them rein in whatever troubles there are. I mean, it’s not like Equestria’s being invaded by an army from beyond the bounds of space and time, right?” He was silent for a moment, then looked at the two princesses. “This is where you assure me that’s not what’s happening.”
“For being sequestered without any source of news,” Luna mused, “you do seem quite well informed.”
“Who would be invading Equestria at a time like this?” Discord asked. “I mean, it’s hardly been long enough for an end-of-season epic battle! Who would be stupid enough to attack Equestria unprovoked, and be lucky enough to do it right when its greatest defenders are mired in bureaucracy?”
“Who did you talk to prior to your banishment?” Luna asked.
Discord thought for a moment. “Well, there were the actors in the play; which I still feel like I haven’t gotten enough credit for. There was tea with Fluttershy, for certain. And…” He paused, then frowned. “Oh, that little mint-flavored brat...”
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
“The smallest of those colts, Minty Fresh. He came to me looking for tips on how to be a villain.”
“He came to you too?” Luna clarified.
“And Sunset, according to Twilight,” Celestia added. “It seems mister Wits End did his research.”
“Well don’t blame me.” Discord was wiping his claws on a paisley doily. “I told him to just have fun with it. I had nothing with him raising an army of… what, exactly?”
Celestia met Discord’s eyes. “Alicorns.”
Discord’s mouth formed a tight, thin line. “Ah. Yes, that might very slightly be my fault by association. What’s his goal here?”
“World domination,” Luna said dryly. “...Or friendship. It was difficult to tell based on our brief conversation.”
“And I thought I was supposed to be the inscrutable one…” Discord thought quietly for a few seconds, “I don’t suppose you know what the other two are upto?” he asked, prompting a sigh from Celestia.
“Despite our and our sister’s efforts, Purple Heart has disappeared,” Luna admitted.
“And all I know about Light Patch is that he tried to learn of artifacts of great power that might still be loose in the world,” Celestia added.
“That is significantly less than I was hoping to hear about, especially considering that it seems like Self Crit there seemed to be blending my and Pinkie’s powers somewhat,” Discord sniffed, pouring a popsicle from a tea kettle he produced from thin air.
“I don’t suppose you have any ideas how to stop the invasion or reign Wits End in,” Celestia wondered, attempting to pour herself a popsicle from the tea kettle only to have the tea simply splash onto the table in a puddle.
Discord took a bite out of the side of his popsicle. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “Well…”



* * *


    Twilight slumped into her throne with a sigh, followed by a groan. She shifted to avoid putting weight on a bruise that, fortunately, had turned a color that complimented her already purple coat. It turned out that many of what she’d thought had been near-misses on Wits End’s part had in fact been glancing blows that left surface wounds in their wake.
    She sighed again, slapping an ice pack on the bruise with a hiss. It had taken some time for Spike to talk her down from her initial moral dilemma. Time, and reminders that Wits was leading an invading force set on conquering Equestria.
    Well, time, reminders, and ice cream. The headache had reminded her to put ice on her bruises, so there was a net bonus.
    Twilight gave the map a nudge. No Cutie Marks hung suspended in the air above it, same as it had been for weeks now. “Sure hope there aren’t any friendship problems happening right now,” she muttered. “Not that we don’t have enough problems already. It’d just be nice to know that, while we’re fighting for the future of Equestria’s autonomy and the place of the Princesses in government, I don’t have to worry about Applebloom and Babs Seed arguing.”
    She glanced around the room, and sighed. “Aaaand I’m talking to an empty room. I swear, those boys have been a bad influence on me since the moment I met them.”
    While looking for anypony who might have been listening to her insane ramblings, Twilight spotted the last thing she’d been working on before receiving word of the Alicorn’s approaching Cloudsdale. She picked up the folder of papers, idly leafing through it. Inside was a series of, to almost anypony else, incomprehensible magical notation, formuli, and speculation. To her, and hopefully to Moon Dancer, it was the proof and concept of a highly complicated spell. A spell to separate distinct, yet related entities merged at the micro-magicule level, taking inspiration from Tucker’s Observations on Magic and Ethics, Redacted Volumes.
    Simply put, a spell to separate the three colts from whatever aspects of their respective villains that were influencing them.
    It had taken her some time—far too long in retrospect—for her to come up with the theory, let alone test it. But, thanks to the samples she’d taken of the three colts while they were under observation, she had been able to slowly devise a spell first to confirm her hypothesis, and then to start working apart the bonds that kept the two entities tethered together. Really, it had taken going back to what she’d learned from Princess Luna about her Tantabus to really understand what was happening to them.
    Twilight stopped on the page containing the spell itself. She wanted to say that it was elegant in its simplicity, but the truth was that it was a clusterbuck of bodged half-spells and magical hintings that just so happened to do what she wanted. All tests on the samples had been successful, provided they were exposed to healing magic shortly afterwards. “But those samples are weeks old,” she muttered, scratching her chin with a forehoof. “Their magical signatures can’t have changed too much since then, right?” She frowned. “Then again, it’s not like I’ve ever had to deal with creatures from another dimension quantum-entangled with other creatures from another dimension, all twisted into pony form. For all I know, their genetic material has more in common with Pinkie’s cake batter than pony DNA at this point. What I wouldn’t give for an up-to-date sample...”
    She froze. “Spike!”
    There was a thud from outside the map room, followed by a low grumbling. Spike stuck his head through the door a moment later. “Yeah, Twilight?”
    “You haven’t washed the towels yet, have you?”
    Spike raised a spiny eyebrow. “The ones we used to clean you up after your fight with that mint pony?” Twilight nodded, and Spike responded by pulling a laundry basket of towels into the room. “I was going to wash them, until somepony gave me a heart attack by shouting my name right as I walked by the door.”
    “Sorry about that.” Twilight eased herself out of the throne and over to the basket. “I just need to check for a sample.”
    “A sample? It’s towels covered with dirt, dust, and blood.”
    “Yes.” Twilight pulled out a washcloth, stained red and places. “But who’s blood is important.”
    Spike leaned away from the piece of cloth. “This isn’t where I find out that you’re secretly a vampire on top of everything else, is it?”
    “What? Don’t be ridiculous.” Twilight’s horn lit up as she scanned the blood stains, stopping on one in particular. “Perfect!” The blood pulled away from the towel, leaving a tiny sphere of opaque crimson floating in the air. Twilight dropped the towel back into the basket. “Thanks, Spike! You’re the best.”
    “...Thanks? I’ll do my best to linger in front of the map room when I’m doing laundry in the future, I guess.” Spike shrugged. “Anything else? Or can I get these washed now?”
    Twilight made a dismissive gesture as she moved back to the map. “Yep, you’re good. Thanks.” She heard the door creak shut, and her horn lit up again. A quick medical scanning spell confirmed that the blood sample was Wits End’s; an errant drop from a lucky blow, she assumed. It wasn’t perfect: the sample hadn’t been preserved properly, but hopefully it was enough to test with. “That’s one. Now… Spike!”
    Another, more distant, thud sounded, followed by the rapid clicking of claws on crystal flooring. Spike poked his head through the doorway again. “I thought you said I was good,” he grumbled.
    “Did we get access to the personal belongings of Baelhart and Purple Patches yet?”
    “You mean after you disintegrated them?”
    “It wasn’t disintegration! They were constructs animated by Purple Heart’s-”
    “I regret asking. Holdfast’s investigation panel is holding everything they had in Equestria under review, since Baelhart was a senator.” 
    “WHAT-”
    Spike held up a claw. “But,” he said, forestalling Twilight’s rage, “I have a close personal friend who happens to deal specifically with strange and unexplained goings-on across Equestria. The kind of things that normal, everyday ponies aren’t supposed to-”
    “You’re talking about Just Duty, aren’t you?” Twilight deadpanned.
    “I never get to have my moment,” Spike muttered. “Yes, Just Duty. Apparently the Paladins got called in to make sure this wasn’t a threat to Equestria and its government. I’m sure they can spare something from Baelhart’s stuff if you need it.”
    Twilight’s face brightened. “Send him a letter right away. I need something with Baelhart’s magical signature on it.”
    Spike nodded. “When do you need it?”
    “Right now.”
    Spike’s mouth formed a thin line. “I guess the towels will keep waiting while I send that letter then.”
    “You’re the best!” Twilight shouted as the door closed behind Spike. “Now to just figure out how to get a sample for Light Patch,” she thought aloud. “Ah! The letter that he sent to ask Rarity to make that cloak for him! I’d bet he sent that using his own magic it’d be perfect! I just hope she’s still held onto it.” Twilight walked to the door. “Spike!” From just outside the door came an anguished cry and the sound of parchment ripping. Spike pushed the door open just enough to peak inside, a heavy scowl furrowing his brow.
    “I’m right here, Twilight! What are you shouting about now?” Spike snapped.
    “Why are you behind the door?”
    “I figured I’d save myself some time and just send the letter and wait here for the next call. I just didn’t expect it to basically be in my ears.”
    “Oh. Sorry. Anyway, I’m heading to Rarity’s to see if she still has that invoice from Light Patch about the cloak he ordered. It should have his magic signature on it.”
    “I’d offer to go with you, but somehow the quill decided it wanted to exist on both sides of the letter I was sending rather than just one,” Spike said with a flat look. Twilight winced.
    “Sorry, Spike. I’ll see about getting you some of those Sapphire Cupcakes from Sugarcube Corner at some point. I’ll be back in a minute.” She turned to leave and promptly froze at the unmistakable sound of a teleport followed by low grumbling. Spike shifted to hold the quill as defensively as one could while Twilight cautiously made their way towards the sound. The pair opened a door and peeked inside to see a familiar light grey pegasus rooting through a small storage room.
    “Bah! Nothing but wooden blocks and various board games,” Light Patch mumbled as he continued to root through a small closet.
    Twilight and Spike shared an incredulous look. “Light Patch,” Twilight said in a tone usually reserved for calming skittish animals when Fluttershy wasn’t around, “what are you doing in my storeroom?” She cringed when she heard an entire shelf shudder as a head banged into.
    “Uh…. nothing?” Light Patch replied with the tone of a foal who’s hoof was stuck in the cookie jar. “I mean, looking for something?” He tried to rally.
    “I can bring you an inventory if you want,” Spike suggested helpfully. Twilight glared at the small dragon and he shrunk in on himself. “Or not.”
    Twilight turned back to the invasive pegasus and slowly approached him. “What are you looking for?” she asked.
    The pegasus looked thoughtful for a few seconds. “Do you have any cast iron pans? I’d prefer a good one around thirteen inches. Uh, about this size.” He quickly mimed dimensions with his hooves. Twilight looked puzzled for a moment, then turned to Spike with a questioning look on her face.
    Spike shrugged. “We have them,” he said slowly, “but right now the frying pans are being used to deal with a minor leak over in Sugarcube Corner.” A small smile spread over his face. “Heh, drying pan.”
    “Heh, nice.” Light Patch looked at Twilight again. “How about a ten fo- ten hoof pole? Got any of those?”
    “Not in storage,” Spike replied succinctly, mentally checking his own record of the room’s catalogue. “I can probably order something to be delivered, but that may take a while.” He immediately withdrew into himself when Twilight swung around, eyes narrowed in displeasure.
    ‘STOP. ENABLING. HIM.’ she mouthed, teeth gritted. She paused. “PLEASE.” She turned away, missing the pout that settled on the small dragon’s face.
    “Why the interest in metal items?” Twilight asked Light.
    “I, uh... need them for stuff… and things,” Light Patch replied shiftly. “Oh! How about an unabridged ‘cyclopedia volume two? I could do some damage with that.”
    Twilight blinked. ‘Cyclopedia’? Was that some kind of mode of transportation common to the boys’ homeworld?
    “There are encyclopedias for agri- and horticulture on that shelf over there,” Spike supplied, gesturing to a shelf against the wall to their left. “Not sure how many volumes are there, but they’re certainly weighty.”
    Twilight’s first thought was ‘oh, ENcyclopedia’ followed shortly by ‘STOP HELPING HIM, SPIKE!’ The alicorn princess swung around and drew a hoof from one side of her lips to the other, glaring all the while at the shivering Spike. With the dragon’s silence assured, she turned back to Light Patch. “Tell you what,” she said in a friendly tone, “I have a pair of folding chairs I can spare. Nice and sturdy, and weighty too.” She held up a hoof to forestall the pegasus’ reaction. “But, if you want to borrow them, you have to do something for me first.”
    Light Patch’s expression turned serious. “Who do you need me to kill? I know the perfect place to hide a body.”
    “What? No!” Twilight shook her head. “I just need a sample of your magical signature. A blood sample, or a hair, or something like that.”
    “That's it?”
    “That’s it.”
    “...Yeah, sure, okay. Go ahead and pluck a few hai- ow!” Light Patch recoiled as Twilight plucked several not loose hairs from his coat. “You enjoyed that didn’t you?” he asked as Spike dragged the folding chairs in.
    “I never want to hurt my friends. But yes, I may have enjoyed it a small bit,” Twilight said, examining the hair.
    Light Patch gathered the two chairs in his forelegs. “Thanks, Twilight. I’ll owe you a couple of new folding chairs.”
    “Wait, what? I want those chairs back intact!” She swore silently as he teleported away. Twilight frowned at the spot where the pegasus had been.
    “Whatcha thinking, Twilight?” Spike asked cautiously after almost a minute.
    “I shoulda taken from his mane,” she growled as they left the storage room, “and we probably shouldn’t have lent him two of the best folding chairs.” She shrugged, enveloping the hairs in a magical shield, similar to the sample of Wits End’s blood. “Get that letter sent to Just Duty. I need to run tests on these as soon as possible.”
    Spike nodded. “I’ll go get some new parchment, then.” He took a few steps, then paused. “I’m gonna send the letter from the kitchen.”
    “Why kitchen?”
    “I can’t hear you shouting my name from there. Be back in a bit!” Spike scurried down the hallway, leaving Twilight with her samples.
    “...I suppose I had that coming.” Twilight closed the map room door behind her, and sat down in front of her notes again. “Alright, let’s start with Wits’ sample.” Her horn sparked as she channeled the variety of spells and elements into the bubble of blood, filtering through the magical elements contained within. “This would be much easier with Starlight’s extra mana…”
The sparks grew to a trickle of magic, then a rush of energy, enveloping the sample in the spell’s light.
    The spell fizzled.
    Twilight watched as the motes of energy that made up the spell broke apart, spinning listlessly into the far corners of the room before fading away. “That’s… not supposed to happen.” She scanned the sample again. There was a slight difference in the magical signature, but it wasn’t completely separated like it had been when she’d tested with the initial samples. “Maybe it needs more power? Or… maybe the magical signature is too broken down?” She frowned. “Or maybe I’m just thrown off by Light Patch once again breaking through my Maredenkainen’s Impenetrable Teleportation Barrier spell.
    She would’ve cast the spell again, but the first cast had taken up most of the mana reserves that she’d built back up after fighting Wits End. Twilight sighed, summoning a pair of protective flasks to store both samples in. She’d try again in the morning, when she was back at 120%. Besides, the spell had worked before, so it would work just fine when used on the boys.
    Twilight frowned. It would work, wouldn’t it?