“Did you get the orichalcum? How hard was it to find?”
Dusk stopped at the laboratory door, frozen in the act of unwinding his scarf and shaking off the bits of melted snow that still clung to the hoof-knitted wool.
“Hello to you too, Sunburst.” Dusk raised his eyebrows as Sunburst bolted over the piles of books, half-crumpled diagrams, and discarded cupcake wrappers that littered the floor. Sunburst skidded to a halt right in front of Dusk, practically dancing on his hooves.
“Hello, Dusk,” Sunburst blushed, but pressed forward impatiently. “Well?”
“Yes, I got it. Yes, it was difficult to find. You don’t even want to know how much it cost.” Dusk Shine didn’t even want to think about it. You’d think that magical reagents, even rare ones, were the sort of thing a prince could have regular access to. It was, however, probably unethical for him to use his position to obtain rare magical materials for personal projects. He’d have to check with Luna.
“Prodigious!” Sunburst clapped his forehooves together, before darting forward to peck Dusk on the cheek. “How much were you able to get?”
“I got three whole ingots,” Dusk said proudly, and Sunburst let out a gasp that was almost girlish.
“Three ingots? But we only needed a few rods!” His glee turned to worry in an instant, and Sunburst adjusted his glasses nervously. “Are you sure…”
“It’s worth it,” Dusk reached out with a wing and pulled Sunburst close in a feathery embrace. They nuzzled cheeks together for a moment. Dusk reveled in the warmth, the smell of parchment and ink and home. “You wanted extras for other experimentation, right?” He gave a rueful laugh. “Just don’t ask me for any new books for a few weeks. Our personal funds are going to be a bit strained.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Sunburst breathed. “Can I… can I see it?”
Dusk laughed. “Sure. You’ve got the circle all drawn and tested?”
“Drawn, yes,” Sunburst’s voice was small, and Dusk held him out at hoof’s length, looking into his eyes. Sunburst looked away. “Dusk, you know I…”
“Are you confident in the accuracy of your circle?”
“Yes, but…”
“Do you have faith in your theory?”
“Of course I do, Dusk, you know that’s…”
“Then let me set my bags down, I’ll let you see the ore, and then I’ll watch you test the circle.”
“Dusk, I don’t see why you can’t just do it. You’re so much better at spellcraft than I am.”
“We’ve had this conversation, Sunburst.” Dusk reluctantly broke off their hug, though he left a hoof on Sunburst’s shoulder. “In order for this to truly work, both of our aetheric essences have to be tied up in the project at every step. It’s symbolic, if nothing else. Symbolic of us, together, and of what we can build when we join forces.”
“Yeah,” Sunburst sighed, then looked up to meet Dusk’s gaze. Finally he smiled, and Dusk leaned up to kiss him gently. “Yeah,” Sunburst repeated, sounding more confident. Dusk smirked and dropped his hoof, leaning forward to whisper in Sunburst’s ear.
“Besides, after you succeed, you know what I’ll do for you?” He nibbled gently along Sunburst’s ear, and was rewarded with a full-body shiver.
“Y-you’ve been taking seduction lessons from Rarity, haven’t you?” Sunburst barely managed.
“Guilty.” Dusk broke away again. “But I didn’t hear you complain.”
“N-nor will you.” They shared a heated look, and Dusk felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the fireplace blazing away against the laboratory wall. “B-but you’d better stop distracting me if you want me to do any sort of spellwork.”
“Oh very well.” Dusk took a step back with a theatrical sigh; one that Rarity had most definitely taught him, and even Sunburst arched an eyebrow at his acting. “Husband.”
The word, spoken in a low, husky tone, sent another shiver down Sunburst’s spine and Dusk nearly giggled. The flirting lessons from Rarity had been worth their weight in gold. Especially since Rarity hadn’t charged a bit.
“Dusk Shine.”
Dusk dipped his head with a chastised sort of laugh. It was the dreaded double name; the old signal his mother had used when he and Gleaming Shield had been small foals. If he’d been taking lessons from Rarity, maybe Sunburst had been taking lessons in authority from Twilight Velvet.
Sunburst could certainly do a lot worse.
“Okay, I’ll be good,” Dusk said. “Lemme get this scarf off, and I’ll show you the ore.” He paused, suddenly fearful as the drips of melting slush fell onto the discarded drawings on the floor. “Am I…”
“You know the rule,” Sunburst said casually, as he trod on several of the crumpled, ink-stained paper. “If it’s on the floor it doesn’t matter.”
“We’ve really got to change the rule.” Dusk floated the scarf off his neck. “Our bad habits are feeding off of each other.”
“Spike getting to you?” Sunburst helped by levitating Dusk’s saddlebags off his back, grunting with the magical effort, and onto the floor next to one of the only clean spots in the chaos: a thaumic circle made of precise and intricate chalk marks.
“Among others.” Starlight had mentioned something, too. And Rarity. And Mayor Mare, for some reason. “How dare they interfere with our creative genius!” Both stallions laughed.
“We’ll clean up tonight, okay?” Sunburst offered, and Dusk nodded. Both of them had made that sort of promise before. “But for now, let’s take a look at the prize!”
He opened Dusk’s saddlebags and pulled out the heavy wrapped brown sack inside. Dusk watched as Sunburst flinched in the strain of the telekinesis. Dusk said nothing as he watched his husband struggle at the weight.
Sunburst pulled the brown craft paper wrapping back, tearing it in his haste to reveal the slightly glowing golden metal inside. His mouth open in awe, he gently floated the three ingots down onto the floor, reverently laying them next to the magic circle.
“This is probably worth more than my house, growing up. Probably worth more than all the houses on my street, Dusk.” He laughed nervously. “I shouldn’t be allowed to handle this much orichalchum. Or any expensive reagent, really.”
“Nonsense.” Dusk projected as much confidence as he could into his voice. “I have complete and utter faith in both your spellcraft and your theory. Your finesse is beyond reproach. And we can work on your…” He paused, grasping for the right word. “...heft.”
“Right.” Sunburst was staring at the glowing metal. Dusk smiled affectionately; it would be on him to keep things on track.
“Okay. So we’ve got a limited amount of time, and we need to get started. We need to test the circle.”
Sunburst stared at him, and Dusk stared back. He kept his gaze steady, despite every instinct in his body screaming that he should just give in, and skip to the part with the cuddles. But Sunburst needed this.
“You need to test it, Sunburst.” He didn’t use what Starlight called his ‘prince’ voice, but it was a close thing.
“Okay,” Sunburst whispered. “Okay.”
It was something Dusk admired about Sunburst; he might have been indecisive at times, but once he made a decision he was committed. He lowered his horn, touching the tip against the white lines of chalk on the bare floor.
The entire circle lit with the sunny yellow of Sunburst’s magic, the lines, curves, and angles glowing with golden light. It bathed the whole room in light, showering the books, the walls, even the discarded diagrams on the floor in its aura.
Sunburst stepped back, breathing hard. Dusk waited a few breaths, ostensibly to ensure that the circle was self-replicating, but really he wanted to watch Sunburst, and make sure he was okay.
“Is there any residual thaumic draw?” he asked finally.
Sunburst shook his head. “No. The circle is drawing on ambient aether.”
Dusk stared at the light, carefully watching for any sort of flicker, any wavering or pulsing. There was none. He smiled at Sunburst. “You were worried for nothing.”
“We still have to test it,” Sunburst said. His hooves were shaking. He stepped back from the glowing circle and picked up an object off of a nearby cluttered table; a cylindrical crystal, perfectly clear with diamond facets. He awkwardly took it over to the circle with his hooves rather than his horn and clenched his eyes shut. “Here goes nothing.” Reaching out, Sunburst placed the cylinder directly into the center of the glowing chalk circle.
At first, it looked like nothing was happening. After a few nervous seconds, where Dusk held his breath, the crystal began to glow with the same golden light as the circle. A few more heartbeats, and the circle began to fade, while the crystal grew brighter. Ten seconds in, the chalk outline was no longer glowing, and the crystal’s yellow light filled the entire room. Dusk finally let out the breath he was holding in a relieved sigh.
“It worked! Congratulations, Sunburst. Your theory is now reality.” Dusk hugged him with a wing. “See? I told you that you could do it.”
“Yay, I invented a lightbulb.” Sunburst twirled a hoof with uncharacteristic sarcasm.
Dusk laughed. “A quantum lightbulb, powered by the energy of the unmet potential of a hundred billion alternate realities.”
“So a really bright lightbulb,” Sunburst teased.
“Hush, you,” Dusk kissed him on the cheek. “Now, take it out with your magic, and I’ll get to work on the fractal segments.”
They both watched a little nervously as Sunburst lifted the enchanted crystal out of the circle, then set it on the table. It continued to glow brightly, with no adverse effects. “Shouldn’t we wait a bit, to be sure?”
“Of course we will,” Dusk said. “But it won’t hurt to start preparations for the next step while we’re watching.”
Dusk picked up a nearby piece of chalk and began his own circle, about a third the size of Sunburst’s, though mirrored in every way. Then he drew a second, and a third, each one filling the space inside Sunburst’s own spellwork.
“Would you look this over for me?” He couldn’t help the note of insecurity. Sunburst eyed him askance. “No, really. I know you struggle with spellwork, even though you’re getting better. But your knowledge of enchantment theory is without peer.”
Sunburst nodded, carefully walking around the circle to inspect the smaller three. Meanwhile, Dusk moved over to the glowing cylinder.
“I’m going to do a thaumo-molecular analysis on this while you check my work, okay?”
“Yes, Dusk,” Sunburst said, distracted, as he peered through his glasses at the smaller circles. Dusk nodded and lowered his horn to the glowing cylinder. He lit his horn, the glow barely registering in the strong yellow light of Sunburst’s magic. Reaching out with his mind and his magic, Dusk Shine touched the crystal, prodding at the enchantment that kept it glowing. From the corner of his eye, Dusk saw Sunburst sit up and blink. “Wait, did you say thaumo-molecular? Dusk, don’t you know that will…”
“This is incredible!” Dusk shouted, practically singing his enthusiasm at the simple artifact they’d created. “The matrix is fully formed, and as solid as a rock. There’s no decay at all that I can tell! This will—”
“Dusk, wait! You can’t—!”
A crack appeared in the surface of the crystal, and Dusk backed away, his horn flickering off. A sound like the tinkling of breaking ice filled the room, only to be eclipsed by Sunburst’s moan of fear. A spiderweb of breaks crept over the crystal, with light leaking out. Dusk nervously lit his horn, forming a shield spell around the two of them just in time for the explosion to pick them, and the shield, up like a foal’s ball and toss them against the opposite wall. Dusk barely had enough time to wrap his hooves and wings protectively around his husband as they were rag-dolled about the lab.
The room filled with blinding golden light as razor-sharp shards of crystal rained into the walls of the laboratory, embedding into walls, floors, furniture, and the ceiling.
The first thing Dusk could hear as the ringing in his ears subsided was Sunburst’s moans and whimpers of dismay. He was curled up in a fetal position, with Dusk curled around him.
There was a sudden knock on the door.
“Everything okay in there?” Starlight’s voice was muffled by the lab’s wood door.
“Yes, don’t come in!” they shouted in unison, before Sunburst spun in Dusk’s hooves so they could share a look. They burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation.
“Well, this was a disaster. I guess we’re back to the drawing board.”
“What?” Dusk blinked a few times in confusion. “What are you talking about? Disaster? This was an unmitigated success!” He carefully reached out and fixed Sunburst’s glasses, knocked askew in the explosion.
“You and I have very different definitions of unmitigated. And success.” He picked a shard of crystal out of the floor, staring at the deep gouge in the wood.
“No, don’t you get it?” Dusk didn’t see detritus as he looked around the room; he saw potential. “The circle worked perfectly. The fractal divisions would have worked, too. The enchantment was self-sustaining! It was only because I decided to mess with it’s aether on a molecular level that it exploded!”
“It was stable until you tried to pick it apart…” Sunburst said, wonderingly. “You might be on to something.”
“Yes! Now we just have to re-draw the circle. We already know it works, so we can just skip right to the third and fourth iterations of fractal circles!”
“Dusk! We need more testing!”