"Well well well, look what the cat dragged in! Twilight Sparkle, you old so and so! It's been too long!"
Twilight smiled at Minuette's infectious energy. "Good to see you too. Sorry it's been... such a long time."
"Pssht! What's a few months of unexpected silence between friends? Come in, come in, before Miss Petunia next door starts to get nosy about who's standing on my front stoop."
Twilight crossed the threshold of the cozy little house in the "well-off but not old money" part of Canterlot. The interior was a reflection of its owner: mostly blue, but cheery.
Minuette was a pony that Twilight had once thought of as "competent, but annoyingly hyper". Seeing her now, Twilight realized she'd misjudged the mare. She was just energetically extroverted. A social butterfly with the personality of a runaway train. A city-born Applejack with a side dish of a more mature Pinkie.
For a moment she mused on the oddity of considering a pony she'd objectively known for much longer in terms of her more recent friends.
She soon found herself seated at a small breakfast nook sized for two, snacking on store-bought cookies paired with a brand of tea that had been her favorite a year ago until Rarity had introduced her to a custom Lapsang Souchong blend.
"So whatever happened to you?" Minuette finally said after the smalltalk had run dry. "You don't write, you don't visit. One day you just disappear outta nowhere and then suddenly I'm seeing your name in the papers every other month."
With her new perspective on life, the memory of her hasty exit from Canterlot nearly a year before now rankled in Twilight's mind. "It was supposed to be a short visit to Ponyville. No more than three days to help set up the Summer Sun Celebration. Then Princess Luna happened and that led to Princess Celestia suggesting I stay there to better learn about friendship."
Minuette nearly snorted her tea. "Wow. Lot of confidence she had in us, didn't she?"
"To be honest, I'm not sure she even knew about you and the others. We didn't exactly do much outside of classes and I didn't bring you up in conversation. I realize now that I wasn't exactly a good friend.” She took a sip of tea to wet her drying tongue. “And I only compounded that failing by never once coming to visit after I moved even though Canterlot was only a quick train ride away." Twilight took a deep breath and sighed. "But that's why I'm here now. To apologize and ask for your help."
"Just me?" Minuette smirked. "You sure know how to make a mare feel special. Should I swap out this tea for some wine glasses?"
"You and the other girls," Twilight clarified. Stars, how had all of Minuette's innuendos gone completely over her head before? They weren't even subtle either like she remembered. "Once I figure out where they live. The only house I ever visited was yours."
"Well, you're in luck cause I can help you there! I'm having lunch with the old gang this afternoon. Come along, it'll be a great surprise and you won't have to do your painfully rehearsed apology speech twice."
"Am I that obvious?"
"No, but you are Twilight."
The "old gang" (as Minuette insisted on calling them) had, much to Twilight's relief, welcomed her back with open hooves. They'd hardly changed at all in the year she'd been gone, and yet they almost seemed like entirely new ponies to Twilight's newfound social skills.
Twinkleshine presented herself as the epitome of the Canterlot nouveau-riche. Elegant, but not haughty. Trendy, but not a fad-chaser. Articulate, refined, and deferent to social status. Or at least until she relaxed or got excited enough to let the façade crack, revealing her hot Manehattanite blood still pumping strong just beneath the surface with all its grit and gravel. Twilight could scarcely believe she'd only ever remembered her as "the prissy one with a short temper".
Lemon Hearts, Twilight was aghast to find, she'd had almost no opinion on whatsoever. In most of her memories of the mare she'd been labeled merely as “Twinkleshine's friend” or "the sometimes lab partner who excels with potioneering but struggles with runes". A filler character in Twilight's school days. Painfully forgettable. In reality, she wasn't so much quiet as she was taciturn, speaking only when she had something worthwhile to say. Jumping in and out of conversation with a poignant remark or cutting insight.
Greetings were had and fond memories revisited amid laughter and light snacks (though Twilight had needed some prompting to actually remember most of the events).
An hour (and two platters of fancy cookie assortments) later, the conversation meandered its way back to Twilight and the prickly issue of her sudden exodus and prodigal return.
"So what was the deal with all that anyway?" Twinkleshine asked through a mouthful of macron. "I read the papers. I visit Ponyville now and again. You went and left us behind for a new group of mares, huh? Got yourself some fancy new friends to share adventures with?"
Despite the teasing lilt to her words, Twilight couldn't help but wince at the accusation. "I wouldn't put it like that. But in a way you're right. I made friends in a new city, got caught up in a whirlwind of new experiences, and forgot about my old friends. I didn't understand friendship enough to appreciate what I had with you all before I left. And for that I'm sorry."
Twilight bowed her head as she awaited the coming recriminations. Instead she got snickers and a playful shove from Minuette.
"Wow. You got real sappy too, dincha? Here I was expecting a five-point presentation on why you never reached out, and instead I get an actual heartfelt apology."
"Maybe you weren't the best friend," Twinkleshine agreed, "but you pulled through in a pinch. I'd have failed Professor Infinite Intrgration's Mathemagics course without your tutoring."
"You helped me get over my bad breakup with Malachite," Lemon Hearts added.
Twilight blinked. "I did?" She didn't remember that and didn't sound like her either. Past her, that is.
She nodded. "You broke into my room and told me it was illogical to spend all my time cooped up crying when it was a statistical unlikelihood we'd have lasted more than four months even if he hadn't cheated. Then you brought me to the girls and we got ice cream."
Twilight's eyes widened in recognition. "Right. Now I remember." Though her recollection of the event was tinted somewhat differently. Namely, that she'd been frustrated at Lemon Hearts for missing a planned study session and turned to Cadance to get mathematical evidence that she was in the right.
The ice cream after had been Cadance's idea, as well as her bits.
"Well I'm glad there's no hard feelings," Twilight said as she vowed to be a better, more genuine friend in the future. But there was still a dangling thread in her memories of pre-Ponyville friendship that needed addressing. "While it's great to finally reconnect, aren't we missing a few faces?"
Minuette speared a cookie with her knife and dropped the whole thing into her teacup, letting it melt away as she stirred. "Well, Lyra, obviously, since she moved down to Ponyville too."
"Lyra moved to Ponyville? When?"
"Not long after you did, actually." Twinkleshine gave a disturbed glance to Minuette's rapidly congealing cookie-tea mass. "Maybe a month or two?"
"She caught the eye of a pretty mare and followed her off into the hills," Lemon Hearts added sagely. "Some up and coming chocolatier."
"Bon Bon?" Twilight ventured and received a shrug in response. She knew of the mare through Pinkie, though they'd never really interacted much. There had been a green unicorn with her from time to time, but she'd never made the connection to an old classmate.
"And of course there's Moon Dancer but, well..." Minuette shrugged and spooned out a glob of cookie-tea goo, much to Twinkleshine's horror. "You know how she is."
Twilight thought she did, but her mental snapshot of Moon Dancer didn't provide any clarity to Minuette's dangling statement. "What happened to her?"
Minuette stopped with the spoon an inch from her mouth. "You know? I don't actually know. We kinda fell outta touch after a while."
"I tried inviting her to a few events." Twinkleshine shrugged. "She always said she had studying to do, so eventually I stopped asking."
"She took it pretty hard when you left. She wasn't very social to begin with, and even we were mostly friends by association with you."
Twilight sighed, the sound heavy with regret. "I guess I have another apology ahead of me. If one of you can tell me where she lives?"
"You can always ask Dusty Pages at Canterlot Public Library. If anyone knows where she is now, it'll be the librarians. But first," a wide grin split Twinkleshine’s features as she leaned forward and glanced around conspiratorially, "I got a funny feeling you're here for something more than just making up for lost time. So come on girl, spill. Give us the deets on what's got you so twitchy."
The other two leaned in as well, intrigued.
Twilight looked between the faces of her friends as she realized just how much they really were. "You're right. There is something else. I'd like to extend the offer of a research opportunity on the cutting edge of magic advancement."
"This is where she lives?"
It was a house in only the strictest sense. The lawn was overgrown, the paint faded and peeling, and one of the stairs leading up to the door was so visibly rotten that she imagined a stiff breeze would make it collapse completely. It was like someone had never taken down their Nightmare Night haunted house attraction.
If she didn’t know better, Twilight would have assumed it was abandoned. And yet, it was the address on Moon Dancer's library file and the record showed her checking out books as recently as last week.
Steeling her purpose in her mind, Twilight braced herself for the worst and knocked on the door.
It opened only after considerable delay, hinges that were more rust than not squealing out in protest as Twilight locked eyes with an unflappable disinterested stare.
"Oh. It's you."
"Yes. Me." All of Twilight's prepared apologies died in her throat. Moon Dancer looked terrible. The mare that ponies had once claimed looked like her long-lost sister was practically unrecognizable. Her mane was dull and oily, too-long bangs held out of her eyes by a cheap hair tie. Her coat looked like it hadn’t seen a brush in a month, and her eyes like they hadn’t seen a non-caffeinated drink in longer. Her thick-lensed glasses were held together by tape and her sweater was fraying at the hems.
“What do you want?” she demanded with the kind of tone usually reserved for pushy survey-takers and door-to-door salesmen. “I’m trying to study.”
Twilight tried for a smile, though it didn’t quite fit right. “Hi Moon Dancer. I haven’t seen you in a while and I thought it might be nice to catch up.”
Her face remained impassive. “For what purpose?”
“Because we’re friends?” Twilight offered hopefully.
Moon Dancer frowned, grunted, and moved to close the door.
“Wait!” Twilight flung her hoof out and the door crumpled around it like a wet cracker. She cringed at the damage. “Sorry…”
Though the door was closed, Twilight could easily see through the new hole that Moon Dancer had yet to actually walk away. She took a deep breath and tried again. “Moon Dancer. I’ve come to apologize… and to ask for your help.”
After a moment the door reopened and Moon Dancer re-emerged. She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Apology not accepted. Will that be all?”
Twilight felt her spirits sink. She’d assumed Moon Dancer might hold a grudge, but the reality was worse than she’d imagined. “I was hoping we could… reconnect a little. Can I come in?”
“No. I have studying to do. There's a new treatise on nonegocentric spellwork I'm confirming the calculations on.”
A small surge of hope ran through Twilight’s falling spirits. “Oh! A Study of Novel Runes Structure and their Application in Nontraditional Casting?”
“You're aware of it. Then you understand how important—”
“Not just aware, I wrote it!”
Finally something shifted in her expression. One bushy eyebrow rose in skeptical interest. “You what.”
“That's partly why I'm here. Due to... the effects of a currently-unexplained magical event, new magic is being discovered so quickly that I literally do not have enough time to catalogue and study it all. So I need help. I need your help.
“I know I was a terrible excuse for a friend, and I'll do whatever it takes to try and make things right, but I'd like to try and make amends. Start over. Can we move forward, together, as friends?”
For a long and painful moment, Moon Dancer said nothing. Both she and Twilight just remained there, frozen, the latter’s hoof extended forward in a gesture of reconciliation. Just as Twilight was beginning to sweat and her smile starting to hurt, she signed and finally spoke.
“Twilight, when you left it hurt me in a way I'd never felt before. You abandoned me. Humiliated me. On the one day I asked something of you, the one day I decided to risk it and put myself out there... you disappeared. I gave friendship a chance and all it got me was heartbreak.”
She took her glasses off, cleaned one lens with the hem of her sweater, and put them back on with a grunt.
“But, that being said, I'd be shooting myself in the hoof if I turned down an opportunity to research such groundbreaking magic. So I will be the bigger mare and put aside my personal feelings.”
She shut down Twilight's brightening expression with a stern glare. "Let me be clear. We are not friends. I don't know if we can ever regain what we used to have. But we can be colleagues. Co-workers. Researchers sharing nothing more than a professional working relationship. Will that be acceptable, or is accepting your ‘friendship’ a prerequisite to this offer?”
Twilight’s smile no longer felt nearly as strained. “I think I can agree to your terms.”
Moon Dancer nodded. “Then it’s agreed. I suppose I should invite you in. I have a number of general questions regarding the nature of this proposed research as well as several specific technical questions regarding your nonegocentric casting system. Watch your step; there are several books in the hallway and the windows are blocked.”
Twilight made her way inside with a lighter heart than she’d arrived with. It wasn't what she'd hoped for, but it was a start.