Golden Oaks Library, Ponyville.
The evening of February 1, of the Year 2 PRE. December had “Hearth’s Warming Eve”. January had nothing. This is now the evening after “Winter Wrap-Up”. And it’s Tuesday.
After a long day of work, Twilight Sparkle finally returned to the Golden Oaks Library, with a shivering Spike upon her back. She carried the dragon upstairs, started a fire in the fireplace, and got him a robe and fuzzy slippers. Spike insisted on staying up to write the Friendship Report.
“Dear Princess Celesta,
“Winter Wrap Up was one of the most special things I’ve ever been a part of here in Ponyville. It helped me to learn we all have hidden talents, and if we’re patient and diligent, we’re sure to find them, and as always, with good friendship and teamwork, ponies can accomplish anything.”
As she dictated, Twilight removed the All-Team Organizer vest that she had been wearing for the past few hours and hung it up in her wardrobe with pride. “How’s that, Spike?” she asked, turning to find that Spike had fallen asleep halfway through. With a laugh she put him to bed and finished the letter, using her magic to teleport it to Celestia’s bedroom—she may no longer be obsessed with weekly deadlines, but it still felt good to get a report in on time.
Quietly, Twilight walked downstairs, to check on the mail that had been delivered to the library while she was out wrapping up winter. On the top of the pile was a magic-written note.
“Came to visit Sonata,” the note read. “Forgot all about the holiday, so had to return to Canterlot post haste. (Is that bit of Romaine still used nowadays—‘post haste’?) Sorry I couldn’t see you. Luna.”
Twilight sighed. She would have liked some more time with Luna. She had been having dreams lately that included memories from Luna, memories of being incredibly alone in her newly-cutied years, when a pony needs friends more than ever. Luna wasn’t even visiting Twilight’s dreams anymore, having taken up the soothing of the nightmares of colts and fillies in Canterlot.
Twilight prepared to return to bed when she saw what was under the note: the latest issue of the Equestrian Journal of Archaeology. The main article, written by A.K. Yearling, summarized the recent excavation at Hayseed Swamp.
~ ~ ~
“Wow!” Twilight exclaimed, her snout buried in the magazine. “This says that the remains found in the basement of the Old Tree have been positively identified as Mage Meadowbrook and her mother, and that Meadowbrook was definitely a pegasus! This could spark a complete re-evaluation of her life and work! What do you think, Spike?” She looked up, to note the lack of Spike. “Oh,” she said in a quieter voice. “Right.”
After staring intently at the fold-out floor plans of what must have been Meadowbrook’s legendary laboratory, Twilight caught herself yawning and reluctantly put the journal down, with a promise to finish it the next morning.
Twilight went back upstairs to get ready to go to bed. While walking past the bathroom mirror, she caught the hint of a prideful smirk in the corner of her own eye, which reminded her of some unfinished business. She turned, and calmly looked into her reflection. “Alright, Siren Me,” she said quietly. “I challenge you to explain what that stunt earlier today was all about.”
‘I helped you!’ Siren Twilight mentally answered Pony Twilight. ‘You wanted ponies to listen, I made them listen.’
“You made them listen?” Pony Twilight said threateningly. “You forced them?”
‘…Not force,’ Siren Twilight protested. “Um…con…vince. Yes. Convince. Not force.’
“But you did use your Siren powers.”
‘…A little. Those ponies don’t like being told what to do.’
Pony Twilight sighed. “It’s true. They really needed my help, and I still had to fight to get them to listen to reason. But I want to be sure of one thing—you’re not controlling their minds? I know that Sirens can do that. I mean, you already did it once.”
‘I know, I know!’ Siren Twilight thought with a groan. ‘I want help you. The right way. You think good things, but ponies don’t listen. I make them more able to listen. But I don’t make them decide to do.’
“I don’t know,” Pony Twilight said, as she thoughtfully stroked her chin with a hoof. “Something like that could be very easy to abuse. I…I approve of it this time, but don’t do it again unless I tell you.”
‘Or an emergency?’
Pony Twilight thought for a few moments. “Alright,” she said at last. “But you’ll have to have a very compelling argument after the crisis is over.”
‘OK.’