The night was calm. The cool mist of the infant dew started to settle on the grass and empty streets of ponyville. The sky usually lit by the presence of Lina’s moon and stars was cloaked in the approaching rampant clouds from the everfree.
Every window was dark except one. The light was faint and only barely floated out of the intricate stained glass windows.
The source was of a single lit candle, despite its lack of luminosity it was able to reflect off of the crystalline walls of the castle library and illuminate just enough for Twilight to cast a fire spell onto the fire pit and brighten up the room.
She rubbed at her temple as the bright light seemed to awaken the headache caused by her grotesque sleep schedule.
Sleep has always been Twilight's worst enemy. She has been defying her body's natural circadian rhythm ever since her parents stopped making her have a bedtime. Why would she sleep when she could spend time studying for another exam? Why sleep when she’s this close to a major breakthrough in magical physics?
Every time the headaches and eyebags tell her why.
She suppressed an offending yawn and plopped down on the pillow next to her many towers of books. It’s a wonder why they even have shelves in the library when Twilight is usually using half of them anyway. Without a word her horn lit up and pulled the next of many books in front of her.
The sound of scribbles on parchment was endless as Twilight studied for hours farther into the night. The clouds had overtaken the sky, the dew started to frost, yet the light in the library remained.
Her research was on a topic that was by no means new. It was in one of Starswirl’s final manuscripts “Magimanus Mundi” and in it lies a dilemma that has stood for hundreds of years. He had it organized as any other self respecting physicist at the time.
You first had your established facts. These were called axioms and otherwise known as postulates. Statements that were considered to be fundamental truths the rest of the manuscript can build off of.
After establishing these truths you can start developing your proofs. These are the bulk of the manuscript, yet these were mostly sound, sans some discrepancies found years later. The thing that has perturbed magical physicists for years is at the end.
The final parts of the manuscript were unusual. They were not a summary as is customary, but multiple stipulations proposed by starswirl over many seemingly outlandish ideas. At the time, many thought that his final stipulations were just the ramblings of an old stallion, yet later as Starswirl's legacy grew, physicists started to look into them. They were surprised to find that all of these stipulations were proved to be true. Except one.
Magical Resonance Synchronization or MRS.
Given how much of a Starswirl fangirl Twilight was, it’s no surprise that she would be transfixed on trying to find the proof for this. Nor would it be surprising that this would be the seventh time she’s tried to prove it. Yet still, it eludes her.
Her eyes burned and her resolve for fighting her need for sleep started dwindling. The candle had been burned down nearly to the base.
“Just one more book, please?” Twilight said as if she was pleading to sleep itself.
She tried to pick up the next book in her horn but the headache made her attempt only reward a groan. It took everything in her to not just face-desk and pass out. She reached over to her book pile and was surprised that there were only a few left.
She looked at her discard pile but saw past the books. All she could see were dead ends and loose trails that just led off the inevitable cliff of another failed attempt at proving the final ideas of a silly old man.
It doesn’t make any sense. Every other final idea was correct and if she of all ponies couldn’t figure out whether this one was then what kind of princess of magic even is she?
Wait, she’s not the princess of magic, she’s the princess of friendship.
At this thought, Twilight sighed and could feel her wings ruffle as she became conscious of their existence. Conscious of her position. Her obligation to be the knowing and deciding factor for something that she herself hardly knew anything about just two years ago.
And yet, this is who she is. The princess of friendship.
“Whole lotta good I am at it, s’not like I can prove friendship like a buckin physics paper.” She grumbles before pulling the next book off of her pile and starts reading.
It’s “Diacanterus’ Mathematica” a legendary manuscript over the founding ideas of mathematics. It was a translated version to modern equish that Twilight had ordered more recently since her old copy was destroyed along with the golden oak library. It would be a great read for an aspiring mathematician, yet Twilights aching eyes stay transfixed on the postulates.
What if there are proofs of friendship?
This thought rang in her head and the more she thought about it, the more sure she became, and the less tired she felt. Her headache replaced with determination and her horn sprung to life.
A new candle with a fresh wick, a new pile of books, fresh ink and parchment, the chirping of birds outside, clouds pushed away, frost melts into dew.