//------------------------------// // Chapter 54 - Contrasting Elements // Story: The Stereotypical Necromancer // by JinxTJL //------------------------------// Fear Twilight Sparkle. Remove Her. Light sucked in a cold, disorienting breath as the memory blinked away- and Her voice was gone. Take a deep breath; the air lacked Her scent. Take a glance: the room was empty- full of shadows- but none of them whispering. Looking inward, he found nothing besides his own whirling thoughts. Comforting paranoia; blissfully crowded. Thank goodness. He blew out another breath, so relieved that it had just been a memory that his hooves began to wobble. A precarious lean that ended in a stumble as his head rushed with sheer, dizzying thankfulness- and then there was a steadying weight against his shoulder. Light gasped: his heart leaping into his throat- what if it was Her- as he jerked his head around to see- but the eyes staring back at him were sapphire. Blue, but the wrong shade. They were round. They were calming. "It's alright darling. You're okay." And as her- not Her- voice spoke to him, he found it a soothing tone. Not at all like it was in his memories. Not grating, or loud, but closer to musical than he'd ever heard from her. Not purring. Not plotting. It was welcome. The tension that'd risen all at once at the touch began to gradually flee, as he shakily smiled back at Rarity. The pristinely white fur of her smiling face seeming to shine in the low-reaching rays of light from the door, like a halo around an angel. It couldn't be more dissimilar to what he'd been expecting to see. He'd switched back and forth a couple times on whether he'd have a difficult time recovering or not, but now he was pretty sure a therapist would be in his future. Or, maybe he could just become one, and declare himself as totally rehabilitated! That way, he wouldn't have to bother with the whole, boring process. That sounded good. Maybe he'd work on that. He averted his gaze away from Rarity with a sigh- then he was drawn back as a shift in the light caught his eye. Rarity tilted her head: her long mane falling and flashing in the sunbeams as it dipped across her face. She cut quite the demure profile with half her face drawn by a curtain of curled, purple silk; her long, gleaming lashes fluttering: glimpses of her eye in-between twinkling with knowing mischief. Her voice sounded into the quiet room: humming; teasing. "Drift off, Light?" There was nothing like it. Nothing he'd ever felt like the feeling of safe, swaddled comfort at her voice. Not since... Not after... It'd become so unfamiliar. When was the last time somepony had genuinely smiled at him? His own smile rose again, and he found himself chuckling, however shakily. "Only because... you just bore me so much." The joke nearly came out too harsh; not teasing enough, and his smile came a second away from extinguishing in a dousing wave of anxiety. But Rarity only gave a soft, affronted huff: pushing him gently forward onto his rapidly steadying hooves. Her smile never once left her face. A moment after, as his eyes flicked back out to the room, something soft met his cheek. A glance found her rubbing her hoof across his dirty fur: humming softly to herself as something flaky crumbled against his skin. He knew, then, that it was alright. Of course it was alright. It was him and Rarity; this was what they did. They sniped. They jabbed each other. They poked fun, and pretended to get angry, and then Rarity did something to invade his personal space. Just like always. Nothing had changed. His gaze slid down, to see Rarity's soul: purple and richly colored. Flashing and twirling on its little stage just for him. Nothing to hide. Nothing to gain. He was so glad. "You are seeming much more like yourself since I saw you last, dear- but oh," Rarity clicked her tongue disapprovingly as she returned her hoof to herself. "You're positively filthy." She shook her head: clear, mock reproach in her narrowed eyes. "Don't expect any more mares to come breaking down your door looking as you do." He'd missed this. No hidden meanings; no underlying traps: just a simple back-and-forth between two normal, well-adjusted ponies. Decently-adjusted ponies. No point in fooling himself; who was there to pretend for? He kept his small smile as he let loose a quiet snicker- because he'd missed having a friend- and cast his gaze out toward the room once more. And once more, he was met with an empty space. His furniture still in disarray; a thoroughly-smashed 'arcanic crystagram' laying on the floor, and not another pony in sight. Either they'd all spontaneously developed invisibility, or they'd walked out while he was having his trance. One was more likely, and his routine answer would be indicative of his mental state. "Um... Rarity?" he turned and uttered after another moment spent staring, to which Rarity hummed questioningly: having returned to brushing her hoof through the clumps of his dirty fur. "Where did Applejack and... everypony else go?" Rarity, seemed preoccupied with smudging the grime off his cheek, responded noncommittedly. "I think you mean everyone, darling. It wouldn't do to alienate dear Spike after he was so worried about you." Light sucked in a heavy breath at the name, then let it out in a slump as Rarity's hoof hovered away. Spike... Oh, what was he going to do about Spike? The first and only friend he'd made as an amnesiac, whom he'd so cruelly lead on with his constant assurances of his wellbeing. He'd lied and lied through every crack he'd shown, and Spike had just gone along with it all. Stayed with him, even as he was sure he'd known he was lying to him. He'd even tried to get him help. A total stranger, and he'd stayed with him. Spike was a good friend, and he knew that by comparing himself. The little drake with the ever-present grin was kind, thoughtful, and evidently endlessly loyal; not to mention he was a dragon. That ticked off every box on the checklist, as well as another he hadn't realized was necessary! Dragon friends were definitely much cooler than pony friends. Sorry, Applejack. Rarity. He hoped Spike would still want to be friends, after everything that'd happened. Last he'd seen him, it'd been... just before yesterday's party. The dragon had gone in first after something he couldn't quite recall, and that'd been it. Light had spent the rest of the party in extreme emotional duress, then he'd toddled off with Nightmare Moon's whispers guiding him to the castle. He hadn't seen him since. How had he looked a few minutes ago? Shocked, of course- they'd all been- but otherwise? He... didn't really know. Whether Spike wanted anything to do with him or not, Light didn't have a clue. That scared him a little. ...He had to make this right. Light shook the memories of dejected scaly frowns away: turning to Rarity with growing resolve steadying his step. "Where did everyone go, Rarity?" He lowered his gaze to the floor, away from Rarity's curious stare: frowning slightly. "There's something... I really need to say to you- and to everyone who knows about... how I was yesterday." There was no use in being coy, he knew, and so he allowed himself a pitying little sigh: his head sinking lower. "...About my amnesia, and where I went... after the party." It was harder to admit than he'd thought it would be, especially to the mare who... in retrospect, had probably been the first to actually notice. With her discerning eye and boundless busybody attitude, he'd really have to be an amnesiac to think he could pull one over on Rarity. If it'd been so hard to say to her, with that look that he could feel was so understanding, how could he ever admit it to Applejack? She knew, he remembered. When they'd spoken over the table... it was difficult to remember anything that was said over the whispering in his ears, but he held faint recollections of Applejack screaming about it... She'd accused him of having amnesia, and he'd admitted it. He'd told her more than he ever thought he should've: mindlessly parroting out every word fed to him, and waiting in numb terror after every period for the punishing static. Applejack was never any the wiser that she may as well've been speaking to Nightmare Moon. So few of those words had been his. He had a lot to apologize for to many ponies, but to Applejack? His best friend? He wasn't sure if the rest of his life could cover his amends. He raised his gaze: meeting Rarity's shimmering eyes with candid openness, but none the less was his regret, and he was sure she saw it. With the way her own stare narrowed- pitying, and compassionate- he didn't think there was any way she didn't. But what Rarity made up for in furtive ability, she made up for in modesty. The extremely obvious glimmer in her eye faded in a second: the emotion smothered by a sunny little smile, and an airy tone. "They're only outside, darling. That mare you were with-" Her gaze hardened in disapproval as her tone dropped. "-whom I can only hope you properly romanced-" Then, she breezily smiled again. "-had something to discuss with Twilight, so Spike and Applejack went out with them." He tried not to take too much offence at the barb- Rarity must not have liked his evident willingness for debauchery- but he still affected a small wince, just to appease her. If they'd all gone outside, though, then could he..? He perked his ear: trying to focus beyond Rarity's quiet, ever-present hum. Just barely... he could hear the murmurs of voices echoing in through his now-permanently open door. What sounded like two someponies were standing... probably just outside it, and whispering in quiet tones to each other. Even further beyond: was that a resounding shout? It didn't sound like his best friend but it was vaguely familiar. He spent so little time with other ponies, and so little of that time was taken up by paying attention to them; he really didn't have a hope for recognizing it at this distance. He turned his attention back to the fashionista: frowning slightly for his lacking memory. "Then... why didn't you go with them?" His curious question was met with a hefty, theatric sigh; Light blinked bemusedly as her hoof rose, again, to wipe at his cheek. "We're all very familiar with your ability to fall into a trance, Light..." she murmured distractedly as she dabbed at his face, while the urge to smack her hoof away rose in him by the second. Gods, he hated how she mothered him. Rarity'd been doing it since he lost his mother, but then there was the whole debacle with Nightmare Moon. Did he just give off a helpless child vibe that he was apparently completely unaware of?! He didn't need taking care of! Somehow, he managed to rein in the desire to do something crass, though he mollified the feeling by screwing his eye shut and lolling his tongue out with an annoyed groan. Rarity drew back a moment after with a pleased smile: his cheek feeling slightly damp. "I could hardly leave you alone without somepony to catch you." The terrible play at words elicited a second tiresome groan from him, and he turned his brooding attention to the door. He set a trot to the smashed-open portal as a second set of hoofsteps began just behind him: stopping after a moment as something belatedly occurred to him, and he faltered in his gait. A question he'd nearly forgotten to ask. Probably unimportant; it was just an idle curiosity of his. "Rarity?" His brow furrowed with questioning intent as he turned to the mare who stilled from following him out. His eye fell to the objectionable eyesore around her neck: seeming to shine all the brighter from the pure light of her soul behind it. "What are those necklaces you and Applejack are wearing? I don't think I've ever seen them before." Rarity perked at that- and too late did he realize he'd just asked Rarity about fashion. She hummed in delighted approval as her hoof rose to rest on her assumedly new piece of glamour, while Light preemptively readied his eyes to roll and his jaw for sickened gagging. "Darling, you are only too right to notice- this is the rather stunning Element of Generosity!" Light froze. Before he'd even made it to the halfway point of rolling his eyes, everything- every single thought he'd had in queue shuttered to a screeching, burning halt. His veins ran cold in a freezing instant. His breath stilled in a choking, half-gasp as Rarity continued: her eyes all on her necklace. Totally oblivious to his wide, unblinking stare; her breezy voice sounding nearly mocking to his ears. "It's all a rather long story that I'm sure you'd prefer to hear from Applejack, but needless to say it has been quite the night for us all." She hummed as her hoof swept over the glimmering, diamond-shaped gem in its crest- exactly like her cutie mark. It was no coincidence: the jewel was cut in the perfect shape of the diamonds on her flank. "It really is just the most marvelous accoutrement you've ever seen, isn't-" Her eye flicked up in a glance- then caught on his still face. His pale, deathly expression. "Light? What's wrong?" Her pleased leer dropped into a concerned frown. Her soul stilled in surprise as she stepped toward him: hoof outstretched to take him by the horn and twist until he saw red- no! He really didn't mean to jerk away as her hoof crept toward him- and then her face twisted in hurt confusion- but in the split second that she'd drawn close, with his eyes fixed on that gleaming, golden weapon, all he could think about was a Goddess with a trembling voice. Harmony is the force that suffuses the very earth we walk upon, and to align yourself to it is to be granted tremendous power. The mighty trees, the swift rivers and the vast fields: the monumental strength of Equus itself. It affords portions of that strength to those who righteously carry its Elements. He turned away from Rarity and her laughing- smiling- cruel- stop! His hoof flew to his suddenly hot head as his next breath came in a full-body shudder: the motion nearly causing him to stumble as his eyes squeezed shut- but he was too late. Even in the darkness of the backs of his eyes, he still saw it. He couldn't remember what Rarity looked like by herself, anymore. Every thought- every memory of her was tainted. All he could see- all he'd ever be able to see was the most dangerous weapon on Equus. An Element of Harmony. One of the touted weapons that had felled Nightmare Moon. Felled tyrants and gods alike. The sibling Goddess to rival Sol Invictus, and She had feared them. Did Rarity even know what she was wearing? Applejack had one too- and that must've been what Twilight was wearing. Did they have any idea of what they'd been gifted with? Did any of them have the tiniest inkling of the power they were just- that they could just wear around their weak, vulnerable necks?! So commonplace that a stupid donkey could just mistake them for any old jewelry?! "I'm- I'm sorry, Rarity, I'm-" He cut himself off in a seethe of a breath as a nameless feeling- too manic to be grief; too melancholic to be fear- rose up: the feeling burning like anger in his nose. He was spiraling. He didn't know what to feel. How did he react? What did he say? Nothing. He didn't say anything, because Rarity had no idea there was anything wrong. He needed to calm down before he gave himself away. Just... listen to the mare's weight shift on the floor behind him; remind himself that it was only Rarity. Her greatest weapon was and always would be her high-pitched screech. It didn't matter whether she had the fear of Goddesses around her neck, it was just Rarity. Rationalize it. The Elements of Harmony were dangerous- but not to him. He hadn't done anything to earn Harmony's ire- he'd even helped it by denying Nightmare Moon. He'd perpetuated Harmony; there was nothing to fear from its Bearers. They were his friends. They wouldn't hurt him. He'd be- he was fine. It was slow, and gradual, yet all the same did he turn to face Rarity. Only barely meeting her searching sapphire eyes with a sickly, wan half-grin that he didn't even begin to feel. "Sorry, I- I guess I'm just still recovering from- um- from my amnesia." He forced his jaw to unclench as he spoke thickly: feeling as though he was miming a puppet as he jerkily shook a hoof towards the weapon. "You... said it was called the Element of Generosity? Is that- is it some kind of award because you're so..." He swallowed heavily. "-generous?" Light wasn't a good actor, and he knew that, as did Rarity. No matter how sincerely he tried to smile, and seem intrigued, and totally not freaked out, there was still a glint of worry in her silent gaze. Even as she lowered it to her Element and spoke in a slow, uncertain tone, he could hear the tiniest note of unease. "I... suppose that's... more or less correct- but Light," Her eyes rose to his as the concern peaked, and something in his brittle heart just broke at her glimmering stare. "-are you certain you're alright? I... I hadn't wanted to bring it up since you seemed so much more lively than you were yesterday, but..." She trailed off on a half-formed word, then shut her mouth with a quiet sigh. Her head tilted minutely as her eyes narrowed, and her hoof reached out towards him again. He sucked in a quick breath and held it for dear life as the warm weight of her frog rested against his forehead, hoping that she'd just find what she was looking for and leave him alone. Her eyes... so full of unease. Flicking all around his trembling, sweaty face: searching relentlessly for something he didn't know how to give her. He just couldn't fake wellness- not when his eyes were still fixed intently on that weapon. He couldn't even avert them at her voice. So soft, and full of genuine concern. That weapon, gleaming with malice. "...You've had us all worried about you, dear." So he shut them, instead. Every second of feeling the soft skin of her frog upon his fur and not flinching back was a trial. No matter how much he wanted to give in; let the panic wash over him; run screaming from his own home- he knew he needed to calm down. Rarity was only concerned for him; she didn't want to yell at him or smack him or push him out a window. But how did he know she wouldn't betray him? She wouldn't. There was nothing to betray him for- the crisis had passed! He'd fallen for too many lies to count for years before the crisis. When would the next come? When would his friends come for him, then? That was stupid. It was stupid to invent something happening in the future just so he could panic about it. His friends were here. They'd come for him now: that was what mattered. Where had they been at the window? Where were they, then? They were saving the world. A world without you in it. Light's eyes snapped open, and there was Rarity. Eyes full of compassion: focused entirely on him. The shell of her soul brightening in concern- it nearly seemed to glimmer next to her Element. His next breath hitched- and he could no longer deny the lump in his throat. His jaw shuddered in weighty need as he lurched forward: his hooves rising up and leaving him falling forward as Rarity's face morphed from care to surprise. He felt the mare lurch slightly as his full weight crashed into her, but otherwise- even as his hooves came up around her back- she took his sudden hug like a champ. His face found a nest in the crook of her neck; it was the perfect place, incidentally, to muffle his quiet whines. He was here; he was in the world. He'd saved it just as much as they had, and he deserved to have friends. His fight against the urge to bawl began in earnest as something shuffled against his tightly hugging arms, and two soft weights wrapped around his back. Immediate comfort. Everything was better. "Oh... Light..." came Rarity's silken whisper: muffled by the sound of her breathing in his ear. Her hoof on his back slid up to the tail of his mane: squeamish shivers breaking out over his haunches at the motion. "Perhaps you don't quite seem yourself, after all." The tone was light. Teasing. A joke at his expense. So why didn't he find it funny? He shook his head as slightly as he could against the soft, groomed fur between bones: just enough to free his mouth, and to raise his voice thinly. "Please... don't tell anyone, but something... really bad happened last night," It was stupid to be so vague, and he sounded like a child. He'd barely kept his voice from shattering into a pathetic whimper, and it was only barely. He had to bite his lip to muffle the sound: raise his head back into the white expanse of her fur, and hope she couldn't feel how he was shaking. Maybe she could. Maybe that was why she was pressing her hooves in: two soothing points of pressure pushing into his back; her voice lowering into mellow, whispered shushing. Over and over it played in warm breaths over his ear; Light holding on for dear life as though any less of the embrace would kill him. "It's okay, darling. It's all alright; I won't make you tell me if you don't want to." There was nothing glib; nothing flippant or coy. Sweet assurances spoken softly and given simply for his benefit. Offered without a thought; nothing expected in return. Light sucked in a heavy, shuddering breath as he raised his head over her shoulder: blurrily focusing on the far end of the room. "I'm sorry I worried you, Rarity," he whispered, and the turbulent miasma of emotion inside him roiled as his voice came out thick and warbly. Still, though he cringed, he raised his voice again, and spoke. "I'm... I'm really glad you're here." His eyes fluttered closed in his lame attempt to halt the rising tears, as Rarity gave a soft hum of a chuckle: the sound reverberating loudly in his ears through their contact. And for once, her voice was the only one in mind. "It's no trouble at all, Light." --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- They hadn't remained in their embrace too much longer. Only long enough for Light to internalize the feeling of comfort. The safety. He'd think of those feelings, instead. When he began to focus too hard- too much on those glimmering, golden necklaces, he'd think of the good. He'd extracted himself from Rarity's damp coat with a pathetic sniffle: a sound wimpy enough to have come from a bunny, and embarrassing enough to be written about in his suicide letter. She didn't judge him for it, though, and he cherished that gift to him. And though there was a little quirk in her smile- her eyes flicking restlessly to the part of her coat he'd almost cried on- she truly hadn't seemed to mind. He'd apologized all the same, of course. Having friends was about humility and respect, right? And, being possessed of great amounts of humility, Rarity just waved him off. "Darling, I have an absolutely rambunctious filly sister. Do you really think I've not had to suffer through a messy hug before?" They'd both laughed at that, somehow. Rarity, sure- she'd break out that tinkling giggle when the wind blew right- but his own receptiveness had been downright shocking. Even that light feeling in his chest- he'd expected to feel so much more burdened. When he smiled back at Rarity, he felt the gratitude shining in his own eyes. However could a mare with such a giving heart befriend somepony such as him? It was like a Hearth's Warming carol, or something. The kind he'd always hated for historical inaccuracies and naïve lessons. It felt just like one of those. He would've been content to sit and stare at Rarity forever- none the less because he was dreading explaining himself to Applejack- but nothing good ever lasted. The fashionista had bigger and better priorities than indulging him, and so it was that she nonchalantly swept a hoof over her shoulder as she stood. They'd headed for the door, Light idling behind as she passed through. The sun caught on her glimmering eyes in such a way that it seemed as though she were literally glowing as she turned back to address him. "I really must be going, now. As I've said, I do have a little sister who's just coming home from school by now, and mountains of orders to fulfill, on top of it all." She'd stepped back in: her hoof resting on his shoulder as they came eye-to-eye. "But please, don't ever be a stranger, darling." Her smile curled: sharpening to a prickling point. "If I don't see you soon, I will just have to come back here to make sure you're staying in fashion." He matched her smile, and his voice had filled with graciousness: something that would normally disgust him. "I can't imagine a worse day, Rarity." She had laughed, and he'd hidden a chuckle behind a hoof. He'd have normally gone for his cloak to hide his expressions, but... he wasn't really sure where that thing had gotten to. He really might've had to visit Rarity for a new one, soon. If... he wasn't in jail, that is. Thankfully, by the time he'd thought of the depressing possibility in his future, Rarity had already gone out the door. He was glad; he'd have hated to bring their moment down with the truth. Her lacking insistence on his answering any question had given him a moment of peace he'd not had since... ...sometime two years ago. He shook off the creeping melancholy: forcing himself to take a few steps outside. Shielding his eyes with a hoof from the merciless sun battering down on him. Ugh. The outside was quantifiably inferior to the inside in every way. He stumbled out a few more steps until the protective arch of his doorway was behind him, and all four of his hooves touched grass. Poking up at his frogs where it was short; brushing his legs where it was long. The outside was all around him, and he hated it. He blew out a tired breath as he dropped his hoof, and took in the scene before him. The first, most interesting thing was the group of silhouettes crowded around the mangled tree a short distance away. Not too far away; close enough to all be immediately recognizable. A sky-blue pest hovering in the air around its bare branches with lazy beats of her wings: a mop of multicolored mane falling around her lazily drifting head. Rainbow Dash, flying around his tree without his permission. Maybe he could give her a fine. There was- oh no. The pink menace was in the tree: easily visible as there were no leaves blocking her. Hanging upside-down by her back hooves- how was she even doing that?- and visibly laughing at something so uproariously he could see her teeth. And... that eyesore of a soul. If he went back inside, could he skip having to interact with her? Standing side by side were yellow and orange: Fluttershy and Applejack. Both of their heads were tilted up at the tree- probably concerned about Pinkie Pie- with Fluttershy's wings nervously pitching off her back. If he knew anything about Fluttershy- and he didn't- if Pinkie fell, then it'd be Dash or Applejack who'd catch her. Spike was there, too: standing off to the side. Sort of... far off to the side, actually. Had he not made friends with the rest of them, yet? He'd probably perk up soon, since it looked as though Rarity was on her way to say goodbye. By then, a frown had come to Light's face for more reasons than one. He felt- he knew he should go over to help introduce Spike. While he was there, he could say something derogatory to Rainbow Dash, something dismissive to Pinkie, something clueless to Fluttershy, and try to ingratiate himself to Applejack. That sounded like quite the plan, and there was a chance he wouldn't have to use more than ten words to do it all. It would've been quite the plan, indeed, had he not been stopped by a call from his right. "Hey, Light. Over here." His shoulders immediately sagged at the sound of the voice, and he turned, pre-wearied, to Twilight Sparkle and Bon Bon: standing next to his window in the shade of his house. It'd been Twilight who'd called to him, surprisingly. Even more surprising: Bon Bon seemed... a little admonished. Her head was down, her eyes were sullen, and even her typical stern frown was a little more sulky. Twilight, standing much taller than the mare next to her, softly jerked her crown-adorned head towards herself. Clearly, she wanted him to come over. Judging by the serious frown she wore, Light was sure that he didn't want to. He sent another look towards his friend group around the tree, then returned to Twilight. Couldn't he just..? No, said Twilight's furrowed brow. That killed his good mood. With a sigh and a prayer that Twilight would spontaneously combust and die, he trotted over to the pair of mares. Sending Bon Bon a quick glance, sharing a moment in which something conveyed from her stare, then fixing his tired eyes on Twilight as he stopped in front of them. He tried not to look too hard at the crown she wore, or think about it. "What?" His reply came out short, because he was short- of temper. He was a perfectly average height for a unicorn, thank you very much. If Twilight observed his internal frustration at wordplay, then it was hard to tell through her already harsh tone. Her eyes narrowing; her tone: knowing. "Bon Bon told me about what happened to you." His heart stilled; he sucked in a breath fast enough to barely avoid choking on it. What? What had she done? Why had she told her?! Why would she compromise his privacy like that?! He turned, horrified, to the abashed expression of the somewhat-plussed mare, who softly shrugged her shoulders: seeming sorry through her tone of voice, at least. "She... sort of knew I worked for the government, and I couldn't exactly lie to her." Light stammered affronted gibberish: shaking his head in shock for as long as it took him to stomp his hoof, and belt an objection. "Why- Why not? You've told me dozens of lies! You've lied every time we've met!" His incredulous stare swapped to the observant Twilight, watching the exchange with a jaded interest, then back to Bon Bon. "Why're you giving her special treatment?! I saved you in the forest!" Bon Bon sighed, and averted her eyes sideways. Her voice came out in an ashamed mumble. "It's... written in the EIA charter that we're to obey Princess Celestia and Her family before any other authority." He gaped widely as her gaze crept up, then fell back down. "She sort of... superseded my standing orders." ...Family? "Be that as it may-" Twilight's interjection into the conversation came quickly enough to halt his spiraling thoughts before they'd begun to spin. It came a little too quickly, actually. Twilight nearly looked slightly sheepish as she spoke: a faint flush on her face that faded in a stern word. "-I know you were aiding Nightmare Moon." One punch, then the other. Light felt dizzy. Was everything really spinning like it looked? Where was his chair..? He needed something to dramatically collapse into... "But-" came Twilight's voice again, and suddenly, her hoof was on his shoulder. He blinked the flashing stars out of his eyes: glancing out of the corner of his eye at the offending limb disgustingly touching him, then to the mare from where the growth sprouted. Her- Oh. She... didn't look entirely mad, for once. In fact, she seemed sort of... restrained. Her face was uncharacteristically soft, and... almost... no- there was no way that emotion was gratitude... Light found himself unable to move, except to stare: feeling too completely shocked to say anything as Twilight softly nodded her head to him. For once, her voice was quiet, and tinged with feeling. "I also know that you disobeyed Her... and that if you hadn't done that, none of us might be here right now." Her gaze firmed just so as their eyes met, and as their gaze met so directly, he could see... respect. "Thank you, for what you did." Her soul was slow, and calm. She meant it. "Twilight- I don't- I'm not sure what to say, I-" His gradual journey to some kind of appropriate acceptance of the magnanimous humbling was broken, entirely, as Twilight shook her head. "Please, Light. You deserve it. You did an incredible thing last night. I can't imagine the willpower it must have taken for you to break free of Her control." His cheeks were warming- what did he begin to say to all this flattery- as Twilight nodded assuredly. She still wasn't smiling, but she was being nice to him! He still didn't like her, but he'd take every praise he could get! He had saved their lives! He deserved thanks! Oh, yes- thank you for these accolades, Twilight! Why yes, he would accept a full pardon from all his crimes! What was that? She was going to the Princess to discuss a reclassification on Black magic and its legality? Why, that's almost too kind! Light had long since lost himself in a warm, bubbling sea of self-praise and warm thoughts, so he nearly missed as Twilight addressed him again. "Now, before I go, there's one more thing I need to tell you." He blinked lethargically as he refocused on Twilight's blank, apathetic-bordered face. He hummed curiously with a smile and a perked ear: leaning slightly closer to her as her gaze slid down to the ground. Was she going to say more nice things? He didn't know if it would help his feelings, but it wouldn't hurt to try! Her eye crept back up, and met his again. "I don't want Spike hanging out around you, anymore." Her firm voice. Her unwavering tone. He wished he could say that it was a gradual thing. That Twilight had deliberated long enough in a heavy silence to make him first feel the tension, instead of all at once. A single instant in which her face hardened, and it was broken. His joy had drained away. His head had emptied: his dreams of thanks and praise dropped and shattered on the floor. A black stain left behind; shards of regret scattered amidst his broken thoughts. Light's mouth hung barely open: something like a gasp but probably not quite as emphatic stalled on his lips. Muted. Barely felt. He felt cold. And Twilight felt angry. So clear was the glimmer of thin discontent in her narrowed eye, even to his blurring gaze. The wide line of her stern frown. The frightening black streak of her tight brow. And her voice: slow, and steady, and clear. "Spike means more to me than anything in the world, and when he disappeared with you yesterday, I didn't know where he was. As far as I'm concerned, that means he was in danger." Immediately, Light wanted to rebuke. He wanted to swallow down his reticence, and say she was wrong- that she was crazy. He could so clearly picture the moment of victorious discourse; he'd prove Twilight wrong and foolish with a loud, verbal denial. His imagination had always outrun him. Light did not deny her. He did not rebuke her; he found he only had the strength to close his mouth. To press it into a firm line, and to drop his eyes down to the grass. It'd been a long time since he'd counted blades of grass, he realized. He used to love doing that. Why'd it been so long? Maybe he could start while Twilight's unfocused voice went on. "I'm sure you don't consciously mean Spike any harm, and when Applejack and Rarity told me that you have a good heart, I didn't argue with them. If they think you're trustworthy, then I'm sure you are. "But I can't trust you after what happened. Not with Spike." He lost count, then; his vision just blurred strangely, and he couldn't remember which had been forty-seventh. And then, for some reason, the thought of starting over made him very sad. That was it. That was the only reason. Light slowly closed his eyes, and... again, for some inscrutable reason... something warm slid down his cheek. Then he smiled, and coughed out a shallow chuckle. Because who was he trying to kid? He wasn't a clueless amnesiac kid wandering around without an idea of his own name, anymore. He wasn't stupid. He was pretty childish, though, which was why his first resort had been denial. He was sad because Twilight was forbidding him to see Spike, and he liked Spike. There was no harm in admitting it. If he wasn't pretending the problem wasn't real, anymore, then he'd at least pretend he hadn't immediately begun crying. Pretending was great. It was basically the sole thing helping him to meet Twilight's eyes, however watery. Yeah, it was her lidded, pitying eyes that were wet. What a baby. "If you don't mind my asking- why are you... You're really forbidding me to see Spike?" His voice was thick- but he didn't blubber. It was hard, but his tone was even, and clear. He even managed a little bit of a sarcastic smile and a shrug... as his eyes continued to leak freely. He was a crier. So what? It was just his physiological reaction to strife; it'd really be more concerning if he didn't cry. When he was upset and not crying, then that meant he was edging into apathy. Apathy meant he was becoming jaded. It was fine that he'd cried twice in the past twenty minutes. That just meant he cared. It meant he was normal. ...Probably, though there was a fair chance in a hundred that Twilight didn't think so. Maybe pitiable, judging by how she looked at him. By her tone, too- though he felt sort of indignant at her quiet, consoling voice. "Light... I don't want you to take this personally, okay? I'm not saying this because I don't like you," she stated lowly, with a quick glance to the side. Her soul seemed to waver slightly in its persistent spin. He glanced, too, then frowned. He didn't know what she was looking at: it was just Bon Bon. Standing still as a stone to their side with her stony stare set forward. That was just what she did. She was a secret agent. So he set his teary sights back on Twilight. "But you don't, right?" His insistent, weepy pursuit drew Twilight's attention back to him long enough for him to catch her uneasy frown- but then her eye darted back to Bon Bon. Annoyingly. He had to admit, that stupid, immensely powerful crown she wore didn't look so bad when she wore it with her full, inherent confidence. It was only then, as she was beginning to look small and uncomfortable that it looked truly stupid. The incongruence made him a little angry. "You can ignore Bon Bon, alright?!" he cried exasperatedly, and jerked his hoof impatiently out towards the unmoving mare. She didn't budge an inch at his motion, and Twilight slowly returned her gaze to him. "She's a surveillance agent- the most nondescript pony you could think of! She's practically a background object!" He caught the slightest twitch in the mare's jaw out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't really care. All that mattered was appeasing Twilight enough to get her to talk, which, thankfully, seemed to work. Though gradually, she did return to staring at him. A reluctant stare, but eye contact was eye contact. Having an audience seemed to make her nervous, impossibly. It was odd: she'd honestly struck him as the sort of mare who loved to lecture, so much so that he had no trouble picturing her at the head of a stuffy room of enlightened, spectacle-adorned intellectuals. Jawing for hours about semantics and denotation and exposition about explication. She was gradually hiding her anxiety under her normal, irate expression, but her soul, at least, still seemed troubled. Tinging barely darker; spinning just faster than it was before. Was Twilight Sparkle afraid of crowds? Or attention, perhaps? It was a question for another day; another, less frantic moment. Twilight had returned to her equilibrium by then: closing her eyes and sighing heftily. A motion which, if she was anything like him, exited a certain weight. And when she opened her eyes again, there was a shadow of something grim within. "...I'm not going to lie to you, Light." Her eye rose directly to his, and he met it sternly: hoping his cheeks had dried by then. "I don't like you." Shocking! Not. He let her admission roll off his back, because it was already very obvious: instead tilting his head and raising his brow pertinently. "So you're saying that you don't want Spike to see me because you don't like me?" Twilight's muzzle twisted sourly- but he continued anyway: hoping to push her further. "Isn't that really shallow of you?" The buzz word worked. Twilight stepped forward: one hoof over the line. Her expression a scrunching bunch of exhilarating indignation. "I did not-" Her rash yell was cut off- and Light's attention was drawn very away by the quietest sound of a sizzle. Twilight's tongue caught between her lips as she gasped lightly, and all at once took a quick step backwards. Two sets of wide eyes- and a third, surreptitious glance- met at once in the same place. That small, trampled patch of grass revealed by her retreat was ever so slightly blackened. The broken fronds seeming crisp amongst the patches around it; a thin trail of black smoke rising from the crushed greenery. Light coughed out an incredulous chuckle, staring down at the impossible, kindled grass. A sure and confusing impossibility- not even an implausibility, it was just impossible. But this wasn't the first time. A purple hoof smacked angrily against a table, and neatly trimmed bangs scattering loose, smoking embers. It was no fluke. Twilight was burning things. Without even using magic. A million questions sprung to mind- only so many could fit on his tongue- but unfortunately, vocalizing them wasn't as easy as just asking. In the seconds he'd taken to stare in wonder at the miracle on the char-stained grass, Twilight had literally stepped back. Her head lowered to rest upon her chest: supporting alongside it her trembling hoof. It rose in time to a deep, rhythmic breath, and Twilight's head came up with it. The tension bleeding away under focus. One, two- breathing impossibly in time with the pulse of her soul- then three. Her eyes opened, and Light was left lost for words. Because somehow, she was not. "I'm worried you're a danger to Spike." Calm, and steady. Like a pond. Light once again felt as though he was losing to Twilight- but how did he possibly win?! Nothing he'd tried so far had shaken her- nothing except Bon Bon just standing there had any effect on her! Was she impregnable to everything except social anxiety?! Light licked the backs of his teeth anxiously- ironically- as his eye darted to the side- no! Don't show weakness! He'd have to drop the burning thing for now- go on the offensive. If he didn't make a stand, then he'd lose! If he lost, then she'd know he was weak. And- uh- he'd also lose Spike as a friend. That was just as important, of course. He could be worried about two things at once. He met her steady gaze- forced himself to- and pressed himself to speak.. "I'm not a danger to Spike!" Even the idea seemed incredulous, especially as he vocalized it. He shook his head shortly as he pushed his head antagonistically forwards. "He's my friend! I wouldn't ever hurt him!" How could she even say such a thing? She didn't trust him, he knew, but all their friends did! Well- he didn't think Rainbow Dash did, but she also thought he was 'about as dangerous as a snowball.' Did she really believe he was a danger? To Spike, of all pon- creatures? Maybe she did. Maybe that was why, in the moments after, her gaze dropped from his. Wavered, then blinked, then fell to the grass. A shadow of heavy indecision written clearly across her face- and she didn't even try to hide it. Light blinked bemusedly in response to her non-response. "What? What is it?" His confusion rose all the more as, at his question, Twilight turned slightly away. As though she were... what was it..? ...hesitant. Afraid. And then, Light began to feel it, too. He'd barely begun to attempt to quell the rising tide of anxiety before Twilight once again placed a hoof to her chest. Closed her eyes and took a breath, then let it out all at once. Only this time, her hoof stayed as she opened her eyes. Hugging it to her breast as her gaze rounded with certain accusation. Outward confidence, as her soul still tinged yellow. "You nearly hurt me, didn't you? When we first met?" His next breath stalled in a gasp- that he just as soon muffled with his hoof as he turned quickly away. Keeping his eyes low to the ground, wondering if she'd seen. She must've. He would've. When somepony had as obvious a tell as he did, keeping mum became altogether impossible. He could hardly help it as much as he could instinctively breathing. When she addressed their first meeting out loud, as their eyes were so intimately locked- the memory just came. And even then, he could still hear it. Before he'd even known- before he'd even been cognizant of it. He could still hear Her. 'He should attack her. Deal with the consequences later. Raise your hoof and take it. Just take it. Just take it!' 'KILL HER NOW LIGHT FLOW I COMMAND IT!' If he'd been able to truly hear Her back then, would he have done it? ...After everything Twilight had said to him, the thought wasn't as sickening as he'd imagined. He was off-balance, he knew, and he should've taken a moment to recover his posture. It was no race: if Twilight could take the time to calm herself, then he should've as well. If he spoke then, when he was so freaked out, he'd undoubtedly do something he regretted. But he didn't, because that wasn't the first thought he'd had. Far from the first: coming so much later than the fear. He had to defend himself. That was the only thought on his mind. "I-I don't know what you're talking about." The words came instinctually, like old friends. Instinct driving him to deny. Play dumb. As long as he pretended not to know, then maybe Twilight would drop it. She'd just assume he was an idiot- everypony else did, didn't they? It wasn't working; Twilight only pressed, and Light began to feel as though his throat was closing up. "You went still for a very long time after we bumped into each other, didn't you?" No, he wanted to say. She was imagining things. She was crazy. Instead, Light only bit his lip and flicked his eye out- look for an escape route- while Twilight continued: her tone deepening with every persecuting word. "I left you behind, assuming that you were just some kind of simpleton and that Spike would catch up soon- but now..." Her brow tightened; Twilight's lip curled back in a soft snarl. "...now that I'm sure of that look in your eye... I'm lucky She didn't take the chance to hurt Spike." His nerves jumped- he barely stopped himself from falling back with a scream as Twilight took a sudden, enormous step forward. Her purple eyes glowing with confidence; every dark, condemning line in her frown shading yet darker. Even the dorky crown atop her head seemed... nearly regal. Authoritative. Intimidating. Light never changed, no matter how many times he thought he'd proven himself better. Every time, he was left cowering. Speechless. Unable to stand up for himself as somepony with a bigger voice put him in his place. In that single moment, Light sat, hunched over in fear in front of Twilight Sparkle. The mare who'd saved the world; who could burn the grass with nothing but her hoof; who wavered before his unblinking eyes until her coat was so much darker. Standing heads taller than him. Eyes sharpening into slits. Voice booming with power. "She possessed you. Nightmare Moon. She wanted you to hurt me, didn't She?" Light broke. He turned away- his trembling hooves, too unsteady to control- desperately biting his shaking lip in an attempt to regain control through the pain. Welcomed the shock of it- the taste of iron- as he focused his blurring gaze into the forest. His quivering shoulders were beginning to burn from Twilight's continued stare at him, but he just- he couldn't..! He didn't want to look at Her. At- at her. He didn't want to turn, to see nothing but his own stupid imagination making a fool out of him. It hadn't been Her. It was just Twilight. It was only Twilight... But Twilight was right. He'd lost. ...And she knew. When he didn't respond, it was as good as confirmation. When she spoke from behind him, her voice- not gloating, nor happy- sounded full of tired resignation. "I thought as much..." As though she hadn't wanted to be right, either. His legs gave way; his butt hit the soft grass. His head fell to his chest and he shut his eyes as tight as he could, hoping that, maybe, if he pretended she wasn't there, she'd just... go away? If he shut them hard enough- hard enough that his splayed ears began to ring- he wouldn't be able to hear her anymore. Then, it'd be like she wasn't talking at all. Like she wasn't right. But he could. She was. A breath; a sigh. "If you weren't yourself at any time yesterday, then Spike wasn't safe." Her voice started quiet- a regretful waver- then strengthened. Firmed, with prompt purpose. "Whether or not you would ever hurt him is negligible; all that matters to me is that you could've." A silent moment as Light held his breath, then her voice. "...Do you understand? Why I don't trust you around him?" He did. And for as long as he lived, he would never concede that to Twilight Sparkle. The mare who wouldn't falter. The mare who stood taller. Why did she make him so afraid? He didn't speak; didn't move, except to swallow: his dry throat aching at the assault. Whether Twilight took his silence as acceptance or denial or apathy, that was the seeming end of what she cared to discern. Why would she? She didn't care if he was alright. There was a shuffle against the soft grass, and his ears uselessly strained as he imagined her turning away. "Thank you for your diligence, Bon Bon, and for your discretion. I've passed on the Princess' message as She asked, so now you're free to... um..." She faltered, then spoke with a hint of an unsteady waver in her voice. "...resume your post." Bon Bon's voice sounded: respectful and steady. "Thank you for the chance to serve, Lady Sparkle. Please, let the Princess know I'm glad to hear of Her Sister's recovery, and eager to pay my respects." Light jerked up: the muscles in his back tightening until it was ramrod-straight. He was suddenly very aware that he was breathing- and that it was getting faster. His heart was beginning to hammer against his ribs: the heavy thumping far past painful. A high-pitched ringing was beginning to echo through his ears- but it'd begun after. After the words. After what she'd said. The terrible truth. The cruel lie. Her Sister's recovery.