Wits sat down at the workbench, steepling his forehooves in front of him. “Alright, where do we start? How does one build a spell from scratch? Are we gonna be working with some transmutation circles? Rewriting the source code of the universe? Or just speaking the name of the wind?”
“First of all, get out of my seat.” Twilight lifted Wits with her magic, setting him on a stool nearby that was usually reserved for Spike. “Secondly, we’re not building this spell from scratch. I already built one version that Moondancer tried on Light Patch, so we’re just going to adjust that based on what we find from studying your respective magics.”
Wits seemed to deflate slightly. “Oh. I was kinda excited to get a spell named after me.”
“It’s my spell. If anything, this spell will be named after me.”
“Oh, like Twilight Sparkle’s Universal Disenchantment?”
It was difficult to choke on empty air, but Twilight made an admirable effort at it. “Where did you hear about that one?”
“Trixie,” Wits said with a shrug. “She used it to dispel my version of Guiding Sunlight I put on her.”
“She dispelled it?” Twilight paused. “By casting my universal counterspell on herself?”
“That’s what she told me. Why? Isn’t that what counterspell is supposed to do?”
“Yes, but… How do I explain this…” It took Twilight a little time to find the right words. “That counterspell was designed to deal with the types of magic that young unicorns use by accident. Those spells are only dangerous because they have no control over how much power they put into them, so the counterspell breaks through them by harnessing the amount of magical energy already in the spell. It’s like… using a sledgehammer on a finishing nail.”
Wits’ eyebrows raised. “So it turns the force of the spell back on itself to break it? That’s kinda ingenious.”
“It only works on brute force spells,” Twilight said quickly. “Any unicorn worth their salt puts the least amount of magical energy into their spells as possible, so they can keep casting without wearing themselves out.” She paused, a thought clearly occurring to her. “Wits, how have you been casting spells so far?”
Wits blinked. “With my horn?”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “I mean, what is the process like for you right now?”
“Uh…” Wits shrugged. “I’ve just been doing it the way Sweetie Belle explained it. Imagine what it is I want to happen, and then focus on the intent and feeling of that thing happening.”
Now it was Twilight’s turn to blink. “Seriously?”
“What?”
“You’ve been brute forcing your magic this entire time?”
“I thought that’s how magic worked in this world! You know, what with the friendship and the magic and the what-not?”
“Well, yes, but that’s the very basic level of magic. That’s not even spellcasting, really! It’s like…” She trailed off, a strange expression crossing her face.
Wits shifted on the stool. “Like what?”
“Like using a sledgehammer on a finishing nail.” Twilight hopped out of her seat, throwing open a chest and sorting through it. “Wits, can I run a quick test on you?”
“Is it a written test? ‘Cause I’m terrible at those.”
“Hardly.” The alicorn returned with what appeared to be a lightbulb. “Hold this with your magic.”
Wits shrugged and focused, conjuring a hand to pluck the bulb from Twilight’s hoof. “Now what?”
“Focus as much of your magical energy into that as possible.” Twilight held up a hoof. “Give me a head start first.” She took a few steps back and conjured a magical bubble around herself. “Okay,” she said, her voice faintly muffled, “go ahead.”
“I’m scared,” Wits deadpanned, then turned his focus on the bulb. Slowly, the bulb began to glow; first with a ruddy red light, then moving to pleasing cherry red color. “Okay, this isn’t so-” The light quickly shifted from red to orange, growing in intensity as it turned to a pure white light. Wits’ magical hand moved further away from him as the light began to turn a silvery blue. “Uh, Twilight? Is it supposed to do that?”
Any response Twilight could give was cut off by a sharp pop, as the bulb shattered into a cloud of glass. Her bubble shield shifted to encompass Wits as well, protecting him from the spray of shards. “Well then,” Twilight said, dismissing the shield, “that explains some things.”
“What was that?” Wits asked, doing his best not to panic and failing.
“A magical aptitude test. You succeeded so hard that you failed.”
“...Meaning?”
“Meaning that you’ve been brute forcing your spells by putting so much energy into them that they have no choice but to work.” Twilight grinned. “You might have the most raw magical energy to pull from out of any unicorn I’ve met!”
Wits grinned back. “Great! What does that mean in the context of devillainizing the four of us?”
Twilight paused. After a few seconds, she put a forehoof on Wits’ shoulder. “Have you ever considered a career as a battery?”
Wits stared at Twilight for a full beat. “What.”
* * *
“Wait, I was the alpha test? Not even a beta test?” Light Patch asked, looking up from the spell notes he was paging through.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Twilight dismisses with a wave of her hoof.
“And if the spell caused me to explode like an overripe melon dropped offa Canterlot?” Light asked.
“Two out of three isn’t too bad?” she replied, giving the pegasus a halfhearted smile. The pegasus eyed her for a moment before laughing.
“What am I even doing here anyway? It’s not like I can cast like Wits or something,” Light grumbled, laying back down on the pile of pillows he’d claimed.
“I actually need your help while casting the spell. Granted, it’s more of a passive roll, but still.”
“Helping by not doing anything sounds good to me. What will my inactivity be accomplishing?” He paused before another thought occurred to him. “And can I eat a sandwich during it?”
“Your heart is all gold. To really make sure I get this spell correct, it’s going to need a focus, and you're it. And I’d recommend against eating during the spell.”
“And what makes me such a good focus colt?”
“Two things. The first is you have one more magical presence than your friends but fewer than me. Secondly, your magic is...” Twilight paused for a moment as she thought about how to explain succinctly. “In essence the magic you three have has changed to become your’s. But it was all Discord’s magic at the start. Your abilities have remained or developed to be the most similar to Discord’s.”
“It takes one’s magic to know one’s magic, huh?” Light asked.
“That makes no sense at all, but sure.”
“I'm already an improbability engine. Might as well at least have a go at some sayings that don’t make sense either.” A small memory sparks through Light Patch.“The mixing of pony magic and chaos magic isn’t gonna do anything too weird to me is it? I’d very much like to not become a sofa or worse,” Light Patch said, giving voice to the tiny smoldering concern.
“You should be fine... Probably. I doubt you’d turn into a sofa,” Twilight replied after a few moments of hesitation and unintentionally fanning that smoldering concern and causing it to grow into a tiny flare of worry.
“You sure I’d be a good spell focus? Maybe you should go for one of the simpler puzzles for the focus,” the pegasus said, sitting up a little straighter on his pile of pillows. “I’m sure I could help with the spell casting in some other way. I could be the master sandwich crafter for the group.”
“Relax, Light. Even if it turns you into some kind of potted plant, I can change you back once the spell has finished.”
“Even if it turns me into petunias?”
Twilight squinted at the stalling pegasus. “Okay, that was a bit too specific. Have you just been using this as some kind of excuse to make references to something?” Twilight asked with consternation on her face.
“Only partially. In all seriousness though, this won’t blow me up with two tokens of appreciation from Magrathea will it?”
Twilight sighed and looked Light Patch in the eye. “You’ll be fine, Light. I’m being extra careful this time.
Light Patch sighed with relief and went back to reading over the notes he’d gathered before the last bit of Twilight’s assurance registered.
“Wait, this time?! What are you not telling me about last time?! Hey, come back here! Don’t make me find some kind of point of view spell! I’m in your spell library! If it exists, I will find it! I will get Wits End to cast it on you for me!” Light Patch shouted at the retreating alicorn.
* * *
Twilight ground her teeth in frustration as she glared at the table covered with sheets of paper filled with equations, scribbled theories, and struck through half-thoughts. She lifted her gaze from the table and glared at Purple Heart. The purple earth pony was lounging comfortably beside the table, eyes closed as he rocked gently to a melody only he could hear.
Her frustration promptly boiled over.
“Could you possibly provide anything other than your irritable silence to this project?!”
Cobalt blue eyes slowly opened and looked dimly at her as Purple Heart’s rocking ceased.
“I figure I’m playing the roll of the dumb one that makes the obvious realizations.”
The alicorn princess blinked. “...Excuse me?”
“Have you ever come across a problem that you spend hours agonizing over only to inevitably come to the conclusion that the simplest course of action was staring in your face since last week?”
“...”
“From your silence, I’ll take that as a yes. Well, to save such a waste of time, I have volunteered myself-”
“I volunTOLD you,” muttered the mare darkly.
“-to be the idiot that points out the simplest solution.”
“And that solution would be?”
Purple Heart blinked at her, then looked down at the sprawl of papers on the table.
“Uhhhh...” He looked back up at Twilight. “What was the problem?”
The mare’s head thumped on the table.
“I should’ve dealt with you first,” she grumbled. “Less of a headache that way.” She rolled her head to the side to look at the purple earth pony. “The spell I’m trying to craft has a number of moving parts that must work perfectly in concert to attain the proper result. The only issue is these three spots that need filling.” She lifted three separate sheets of paper with her magic and held them aloft before Purple Heart’s face.
“Power, Focus, Targeting,” read Purple. His brow furrowed, his gaze flitting from the floating papers to Twilight's face.
“Yes,” she confirmed, lifting her head. “I’ve already got Wits and Light tasked on Power and Focus respectively. As it falls, you are supposed to be Targeting.”
Purple Heart arched an eyebrow. “You don’t sound enthused about that prospect.”
“It’s because I’m not,” grouched Twilight.
“Aha. Why?”
“Because of your strings. I’m apprehensive about trusting you to use them without screwing everything up.”
“Huh… You need all three of us to participate in the spell’s casting, right?”
Twilight frowned. “Unfortunately, yes. Just having you three in the vicinity won’t work. You need to be an active participant for it to work properly.”
“And you’re paranoid that me using my strings will present an unknown factor to the equation that will most likely have an adverse effect on the spell’s outcome?”
“That’s exact-” Twilight stared at the colt. “How’d you know that?!”
“You wrote it down.”
“...I did?”
Purple Heart tapped one of the sheets of paper still floating before him, batting it over to where Twilight could read it. She perused the scribbling, glancing over the sheet with practiced ease. “Huh. So I did.”
“You really have a bad case of tunnel vision,” Purple Heart commented.
Twilight scowled at the purple earth pony. “Gee, thanks.”
He shrugged, waving a hoof idly in the air. “Just trying to help,” he said, still waving his hoof. The motion caught Twilight’s attention after a few seconds.
“Why are you waving your hoof like that?” she asked.
“Huh? Oh, there’s something on it I’m trying to get off.”
“I can see that. I made sure that that cuff wouldn’t come off without my magical signature,” Twilight said drolly.
“Hmm...” Purple Heart looked at his waving foreleg, watching as light reflected off the steel gray cuff. “Aaaanytime now...”
“Anytime what now?” prompted Twilight. Purple Heart looked at her, his jaw actually hanging open.
“You can’t be serious,” he gaped. With a twist of his foreleg, his cuffed hoof crashed into the table. “What does this thing do again?!”
Twilight recoiled at the violent action. “It prevents hostile use of your powers!”
“I know that! Do you?”
“Of course I do! I designed it!”
“Then why are we still sitting here while you WASTE TIME?!”
Twilight blinked several times in rapid succession as she tried to follow the purple earth pony’s logic. Then it hit her.
“Oh.”
Purple Heart threw his hooves into the air and leaned back in his seat. “NOW she remembers!”
* * *
Wits blinked once as the three colts walked into the room Twilight had prepared for the spell. “If I wake up inside of a small red gem, you are gonna have some explaining to do,” he commented, eyeing the chalk circles warily.
“Could be worse, we could end up Fran’ed and just be disembodied hooves.” Light Patch, replied, “There is a bit of a lack of zombponies for us to possess though.”
“You guys aren’t lying about there being no magic in your world, are you?” Twilight asked.
“No, just some very creative minds,” Purple Heart replied resolutely.
“Do you guys want me to go over how this will work again?” Twilight asked, looking at the three colts.
“No, I think we’ve covered this enou-” Purple Heart started to say before he was interrupted by Light Patch.
“Oops. I pressed ‘A’.”
“What do you-” Twilight started to ask before an angry yell from Wits End cut her off.
“No, you did not press ‘A’! We are not listening to this dialogue prompt again!” Wits End declared.
“It’s too late. I pressed ‘A’. Now we gotta listen to the whole thing again,” Light Patch replied.
“Oh, come on! You didn't even get half of it, did you?” the mint unicorn cried.
“Maybe three eighths and I might also be a little nervous and trying to stall,” Light Patch admitted.
There was a loud slam as Twilight pounded a hoof against the wall. “For the love of Celestia, would you two shut up? I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks now, and you two going on is either giving me a migraine or a hole in my brain! Shut up! Just! Shut up!”
The colts stared at Twilight for a few seconds. Wits was the first to recover. “She gets that from you,” he said, looking pointedly at Purple Heart.
A magical aura surrounded Wits’s muzzle. “SHUT.” Twilight took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “This is how it’s gonna go: Wits will be providing the power for the spell. Light, you’ll be focusing that magical energy. Wits has got plenty to spare, so go nuts. If your magic really does work like Discord’s, then it’ll make our 5% chance a guarantee.”
Light Patch blanched. “Did you say 5%?”
“Shush.” Twilight’s magic snapped the pegasus’ mouth shut as well. She turned to the last remaining colt. “Do you have anything funny to say?”
Purple Heart weighed his options. “...There’s something in your teeth, Francis.”
The colt’s lips vanished.
“ANYWAY. Purple, you’ll be taking that energy and giving it targets. Don’t worry about casting a spell or anything. Just think of it as using your strings to seek out anything in our souls that isn’t ours. I’d ask if you’ve got it but at this point, I really don’t care. Any questions? No? Good.”
Wits politely tapped the table. With a sigh, Twilight released her magical hold on the colts’ mouths. “Thanks,” Wits huffed. “And what will you be doing exactly?”
“Directing this crashing dragon down to a landing we can all walk away from,” Twilight deadpanned. “None of you will actually be casting the spell. Once Purple Heart has a handle on all of the soul junk, I’ll use that to target the spell and separate everything out.”
“It’s just that easy?”
“Did it sound easy?”
“...Good point.” Wits rolled his shoulders, eliciting a pop from his neck. “Alright, how do I pass off my magical energy to Patchy?”
Twilight thought for a moment. “Focus on casting a spell on him, but don’t actually cast it.”
“That sounds uncomfortable.”
“It will be. But it’s also the easiest way for you to open up an arcane conduit without casting some sort of dark magic.”
“...What if I want to-”
“WITS.”
“I was joking!” Wits closed his eyes, his horn gathering motes of magical energy. What started as a simple aura of light soon developed into arcs of magic, jumping from the unicorn’s horn to nearby furniture. “Generator’s online,” he bit through his teeth. “Tag.”
“Magikite refinery commencing operations. Keep that pipeline open, roughneck,” Light Patch murmured aloud as he focused on the feeling of magic flowing into him. After a moment, he began surrounding the pooling magic with his own, building it a little maze that changed it as it progressed through. “Power resupply inbound, try to not stand directly under it.” The pegasus grunted, feeling the first of the magic exit the maze.
Purple Heart grunted under the brunt of a focused, consistent stream of magic and grinned tightly. “Let’s get these villagers to work, then,” he said, directing the oncoming magic into a series of strings branching off of one thick thread connecting the purple earth pony and Twilight. “1000 food and 800 gold stockpiled. Age up is ready on your mark.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Let’s get this over with. I almost understood those references.” She closed her eyes, and began focusing her magic into her horn. She felt the magical energy from the three colts flowing through the connection, picking up the slack when her own power wasn’t enough, and leaving her more than enough to weave it into a spell. “All systems? Full power!”
A pulse of energy washed over and through the four ponies, rippling between them like the water of a recently kicked rain barrel. The feeling was a bit like being an ancient magical orb that was in the process of being split in two.
With a wordless noise of exertion, Twilight forced more power into the spell. She focused on the seven magical signatures: the three Colts, their three villainous counterparts, and herself. She could feel them more than anything else, and the way they naturally tried to gather into distinct groups.
With a noise halfway between an explosion and something squishing, the spell blew apart. Ponies were flung from their hooves to all corners of the room, and a darkness fell over them. Silence rang like something that didn’t make any noise.
Twilight groaned, blinking in the pitch darkness. It took a great deal of effort to gather enough magic to cast a simple light spell. “Did it work?”