//------------------------------// // Secrecy // Story: Statue Garden // by NodoubtbuodoN //------------------------------// Nothing could have prepared Shining Armor for the sight of Twilight as he rounded the corner. He hardly even recognized her. Her voice and especially her face were all wrong. And what was she doing toppled over like that? Shining stared, bemused. He couldn't for the life of him comprehend why Twilight was laughing, never mind so forcefully. His confusion gave way to fear, but his uncertainty with the situation and what to do about it held him back. He felt a flicker of shame. He was the captain of the Royal Guard, for Celestia's sake! Yet here he was suddenly terrified of his younger sister, and she didn't even know he was there! That needed to change, fast. He'd lose any nerve he had left entirely if he hesitated much longer. Twilight herself seemed to be degrading, her previous howling reduced to husky low notes from a lack of air intake. “Twilie?” he called out in concern. The change was immediate. Twilight's head snapped to face her big brother. She remained lying where she was, her mouth suddenly drawn into a sealed line, silent. Shining's sister didn't look abashed, though, and that only served to alarm him further. If anything she looked... suspicious. Her mute visage scrutinized his own, and only after a few very long moments did Twilight's face open back up, looking suitably bewildered. “Oh! H-Hi, B-B-B, uh, B-B-” Twilight stammered, as if remembering what she had just been doing in front of somepony else was generally cause for embarrassment. Whatever she was trying to say seemed caught in her mouth, and she continued to fumble with the single consonant. Her breath came in deep, forceful inhales. “B.B.B.F.F?” Shining picked up the phrasing of Twilight's endearing title to him, and it seemed to do the trick. Twilight's pupils seemed visible once more against their whites, and her breathing quieted. She started to right herself back onto her four hooves, shaking slightly. “Y-Yeah,” Twilight said. She hadn't lost her stutter. “Thanks.” “No problem, kid.” Shining smiled and trotted up to Twilight. They embraced, and despite the purple armor Shining wore when on duty, he could feel his little sister's warmth. She relished in his own, her cheek pressed up against his neck. It took her some seconds to pull back. “So,” Shining started over, eager to keep the more comfortable mood. “Finish putting Discord back?” Shining had been the first to know, after Twilight herself, about Celestia's favour concerning the draconequus. He'd strolled over to the garden in the hopes of getting a quick word with her. “Oh!” Twilight started slightly, and at first he thought she was going to revert back to her previous state. When she spoke next, however, all she had was a bit of an awkward tone to her speech. He put it down to her breathlessness. “Uh...yeah, ha ha. Right back where he belongs.” She glanced back to peer up at Discord, and Shining raised an eyebrow at Twilight. Her laughter was still fresh in his mind. “Did I miss something funny?” Shining asked, regretting it instantly. Wasn't he trying to keep Twilight calm? As she turned back to face him, Twilight's reaction was thankfully underwhelming. “Not really,” she said. “Well, yes. There was, but you kinda' had to be there. Well, I mean, you are here. But, not here now. I mean here then. I mean—” “Twilie, I knew what you meant,” Shining laughed. If Twilight's train of thought was going to derail, at least it was doing so humorously. It was hardly the worst embarrassment she could suffer. Twilight had really lucked out that he'd had been the only other pony in the garden; her earlier behaviour surely would have attracted a crowd. As Shining looked he did, at least, give a slight chuckle at Discord's face. It sure couldn't be comfortable to have your mouth frozen open like that. “I... I think I'm gonna head home now,” Twilight said, apparently still feeling a bit awkward. She embraced him once more, even more heartily than the first time, and began to trot off. Shining was about to ask if Twilight was sure about taking her leave, but she kept her head facing ramrod straight ahead of her, negating all possibility of further face-to-face discussion. “See ya', sis',” Shining called. Twilight didn't answer back. Shining could only stare after her, musing on the oddity of their encounter. It made no sense; she'd hugged him with enough force to bend his armour plating, and yet she was making swift tracks back to Ponyville? He tried to at least be content knowing Twilie still considered him good support whenever she was troubled. Troubled by what, though? Despite all that she had said, it was obvious to Shining that Twilight hadn't told him everything, and she'd never been the type to suddenly run off without a word. They were far too close for those kinds of secrets, damn the distance they lived nowadays. A minute or two alone was a must for her, certainly. No good could come of running her down. But Shining resolved to get some answers from her before she was gone. Caught in an awkward idle, Shining took a second glance at Discord's face, and followed the draconequus's frozen line of sight. It looked to his own back-left. The statue of Knowledge stood tall above the garden path, and the scene was a bit relaxing to Shining before he saw the mare's jarring face. What kind of carving job was that? Shining made a note to himself to ask Celestia who she had commissioned for the garden decor. Whomever this artist was, they had a grim idea of knowledge, that was for sure. Shining felt he could do with a bit of ignorance in the face of whatever that pony knew. He doubted any connoisseur of fine art would disagree. The thing seemed to be in a bad face contest with Discord. Shining briefly wondered if this is what Twilie had been laughing about, and then immediately afterwards dismissed the idea; it wasn't funny. Twilight's laughter followed after him, regardless. Despite its lauded reputation, the sculpture garden had never been Shining's favourite place in the palace. It seemed far too eerie, and the faces on these statues sealed off any chance it had at a calm atmosphere entirely. They took fillies and colts on field trips to this place? Perhaps that was the humorous part of this whole thing. Shining pictured a filly cowering in fear deep beneath her bed covers, tears swelling at the edges of her eyes. He frowned deeply. No, not funny at all. He turned on his heels, eager to leave the garden far behind. ~\\***\***/***//~ To avoid alerting Shining Armor again, Twilight trotted a significant distance away around the maze's corner. Once she was inside the main palace hall again, she broke into a full gallop. She shoved her way past some rather surprised ponies, but her vision was too fuzzy to make out who specifically they were. Their indignant voices following her down the halls had to be the ones to tell her, and even then she could barely identify them. Twilight's eyes blurred with tears; tears of panic, fear, and betrayal. She had barely scraped through her encounter with her brother sufficiently composed, and knew she couldn't hold together for a second talk with somepony else. So she just had to keep running. She had to get away from the castle. From her. “No, no, no, no,” Twilight frantically whispered her denial out loud. Even when spoken, the word was just as powerless against her peril as before. She sprinted on, the front gate coming blearily into view down the hall. “...and I just don't know what was wrong with her.” Twilight's hooves caught themselves mid-stride so as not to give her position away. She nearly did that herself anyway, her skidding halt muffled by a red and gold-trimmed carpet adorning the hallway. She leaned into the bottom-left corner of a four-way passage, and listened closely to a conversation which was coming from further down the left hallway. It couldn't be... “Ah, that's just the way mares are sometimes. She'll come around.” “You think so?” It wasn't, she realised. Twilight had worried that who she had heard around the corner had been Shining Armor, talking about her. Her mind was kicked into a brief explosion of morbid creativity, and ignored the obvious logic of the chat with her sibling in the garden a minute ago. When she heard the second voice, she knew the fear to be false, at least for the time being. To assure herself further, she peered around the corner. She saw two royal guards standing and conversing near the library entrance. The right one had always sounded a fair bit like Shining Armor, and under different circumstances, Twilight might have giggled at her self-deception. As it stood, she took it only as a brief respite. Her peek around the wall's edge made her visible, and the two spotted her. One seemed about to speak, but Twilight was immediately off on her run again. She left the two guard ponies behind, a fair bit more perplexed than they were earlier. No more stopping. No more stopping. I need to get out of here. Twilight bolted out the castle gates, and aimed to make the same trip she had made last night down to the train station. But this time the main street was a fair bit more crowded. She weaved her way past a multitude of ponies as she tried her best to keep a straight path. Her shaking limbs and woeful sensory capabilities, however, eventually sent her tumbling into the streets. She shook violently, her hooves clutched about her head. “Um... miss?” a male voice called down to her. Twilight looked up and around herself with wild eyes. She was holding up street traffic, and a few of the ponies present seemed to recognise her as the one who had carried Discord a short while ago. A unicorn stallion with a coal grey coat and white mane and tail had stopped in front of her. He was buttoned up in a jet black suit, obviously among the Canterlot's higher class. “Are you—” the unicorn tried. “NO!” Twilight shrieked, and got to her hooves to resume her sprint. The crowd, the second Twilight had gathered that day, reacted collectively to her outburst. A few shuffled uncomfortably away, with others still trying their best to move closer and calm the frantic pony down. Those still assembled pressed in on Twilight, and destroyed the last bits of her mental compass. She was making no more progress, forward or otherwise. Realisation rudely struck her, and she lit up her horn to teleport outside the circle of ponies. Upon the spell's conclusion, and the resistance from the other ponies lifting, Twilight calmed slightly. She stood and waited for her eyes to clear. She had materialized on a mostly empty street, and it took only the briefest look around for her to decide that she had completely lost her bearings and was obviously not on the main path anymore. After several seconds, Twilight pinpointed the castle, indicating north. It lay towards her far back-left, and she realised she must have teleported to Canterlot's west end in her panic. Twilight didn't think Canterlot had anything that would qualify as a slum. The mountain-nestled capital was too well-maintained for that. However, its west end was certainly not as lavish as the rest of the city. While many of the buildings still had the familiar white colouration of Canterlot brick, they were arranged in such a manner as to indicate a cramped quality. As a filly, Twilight recalled visiting this part of town as little as she could. The narrow spacing of the streets combined with the many back alleys dotting blocks reminded Twilight of an ant farm, dirty and claustrophobic. Twilight's sight of the castle urged her to keep going, but she didn't recognize the particular street she was standing on. She had never walked it before, and so all she could think to do was continue due south. It would at least give her a path that was directly away from the castle. She resumed her sprint down the narrow alleyways, deviating left every so often to try and regain the main road. Twilight ran into few ponies as she travelled. The narrow alcoves were not exactly the same as the bustling causeway the main street was. The lack of any crowds made things significantly quieter than before, and even Twilight's panic felt hushed. She kept her fast pace, but her thoughts slowed down to consider just why exactly she felt the need to run. On the one hoof, it felt ridiculous to wonder why. But on the other hoof, was she really in any danger herself? All she had done, as far as anypony else knew, was put Discord back. Just like Celestia had told her. They couldn't fault her presence in the garden when that was regarded. Twilight briefly pondered her run-in with her brother, but just as quickly discarded it. He couldn't have known a thing about what was going on. Twilight came to a full-stop just outside one last alleyway. The cliff-face Canterlot sat upon was visible in front of her, safeguarded by a three foot stone outcropping. Twilight closed her eyes and thought slowly. Nopony knew but her. And it could stay that way, couldn't it? Nopony else had to know. No need to run off, right? Nopony knew but her. As she faced the mountain edge, a chill breeze wafted up and around Twilight’s neck. It snaked up to her ears like a whisper. “...but you wouldn’t know that, would you?” “Shut up. I do know,” Twilight whispered back. Several ponies in the streets gave Twilight odd looks. Even with her eyes closed, Twilight felt the stares as she did before. They made her feel like she was right back in the garden again. Even the draconequus seemed present once more. All that was missing was— “HELP ME!” Twilight immediately snapped her eyes open and shrieked. The ponies who had stopped to stare at her started violently. Twilight didn't notice, her breath becoming laboured once again. She stared straight ahead, not affording to look at anything but the horizon. It didn't last with the noon day sun now directly in her face. Her eyes shut themselves instinctively against the glare, and two identical coloured circles were drawn across the black void from Twilight's eyelids. They stared like a set of rose pupils. Twilight's knees collapsed beneath her, and she began to weep again. She remained like that for a good few minutes before she heard the sound of approaching hoofsteps. A voice then cautiously asked: “Twilight?” Twilight violently started and looked up in terror, but the feeling quickly subsided. The voice that had said her name was familiar, but only vaguely. A golden and white blob above her slowly came into focus as her vision cleared. She now recognized the royal guard who stared down at her. He was the one Twilight had talked to a bit earlier as she had carried Discord. “Do you need some help?” the stallion asked, clearly concerned. Twilight nodded her head, and finally willed herself to speak. “J-Just get me to the train station, please,” she pleaded, getting to her hooves with the guard's aid. It was thankfully only a very short walk east to the station, Twilight having made good distance already with her earlier sprint. The guard helped her up the platform, a car just boarding its last few passengers upon it. The guard paid the trip for Twilight out of his own pocket, pulling a couple bits out of a pouch in his armour and giving them to the conductor. Twilight mumbled a thanks, feeling numb. “Will you be alright, Twilight... or err, Ms. Sparkle?” the guard asked again, hesitant to leave her. “J-J-Just a bad day,” Twilight fibbed, forcing a limp smile at him. “I'll be okay.” He looked unconvinced, but all the same nodded and started slowly back down the platform. Twilight left the door, the conductor shutting it behind the two of them, and entered the front-facing car. She slumped into an empty green plush seat, drawing her hind hooves up against her torso to assume a fetal position. Nopony knows. Nopony knows but me. The scream reverberated within her skull. And her. Twilight sobbed quietly into her front hooves. ~\\***\***/***//~ “You seem... troubled, sister.” Princess Celestia's eyelids shut tightly over her face and she brought a hoof up to her forehead as though she had a headache. The onset of one could certainly be felt amidst all her heavy thoughts. She lowered her golden shoe away from her face and smiled as reassuringly as she could at her younger sibling. Luna sat next to her at the end of the long dining hall table. “It's fine, Luna,” she said, but she could tell Luna wasn't buying her words. Celestia continued on before she could press on her own, silently encouraging the matter to be dropped entirely. “It's merely something that has been on my mind lately.” Instead of deterring her, Celestia seemed to have egged Luna on further. “It concerns Discord, doesn't it?” Luna didn't bother keeping her voice down, and spoke the insidious name as plainly as any mundane statement. It mattered not; the two of them were dining alone that afternoon anyway. In and of itself, it was an unusual occurrence. The two seats in the hall were present so that the princesses could dine together with their subjects, and even during Luna's long absence there had always been two seats at the end of the table rather than one. In the many centuries before Luna's return, Celestia had given many a sidelong glance at the smaller seat on her left; willing her younger sister to appear. Now Luna stared expectantly, and Celestia could sense her ingrained curiosity had fully bubbled to the surface. She decided any further attempts at downplay would be a losing proposition, and spoke up with the truth. “Not entirely, no.” Luna had remarked to her earlier both her own concerns about Discord's transportation, and the entrusting of it to Twilight Sparkle. She had gladly offered take care of it herself, but Celestia had gently refused, trusting Twilight to get the task done. Celestia now felt responsible for her own worries in hindsight, but continued speaking regardless. “Captain Shining Armor confided in me some concerns of his about Twilight when he saw her. I suppose those concerns have now become my own.” Luna sat unfazed, vaguely disappointed. “It is natural for the captain to worry about her, especially considering what errand she was running at the time they met. Is she not, after all, his sister?” Celestia turned to regard Luna fully. “As much as she is my student. But this wasn't just ordinary concerns one sibling shows to another.” The two shared a knowing look before Celestia moved on. “He felt that there was something genuinely wrong.” Another look was exchanged, its intensity matched only by its fleetingness, and Luna shook it off as she spoke up. “Wrong how?” “As he describes, everything. He said he later felt ashamed that he didn't question Twilight further, but regrettably, he couldn't leave his post. He could only hope that she would stay within the vicinity of his patrol.” Celestia looked away. “That was another thing. According to him, she left in quite a hurry. That isn't like Twilight at all.” Luna had finished clearing her plate by now, scraps of cress being the only remainders upon her dishes. Her curiosity was seemingly as satiated as her stomach, and her next words could have been surmised in an indifferent shrug. “Captain Armor is likely just upset that he couldn't tell Twilight Sparkle about his upcoming wedding. As I understand it, that was part of the reason he wanted to see her today?” It wasn't really a question, and Celestia barely felt her own nod. “I should have seen her today,” Celestia said quietly to herself. Luna had since stood up and was walking away from the table. She turned back and quirked an eyebrow at Celestia's odd remark. Celestia didn't notice. Her mute state persisted, and she stared blankly across the table at the closed wooden doors to the hall. She finally snapped out of her trance and regarded Luna, who looked a mere hair's length away from outright shock. She blushed as she realised how she had been acting moments before. “Perhaps I am a bit too upset about this whole thing myself.” Her attempted self-depreciation did not seem to dull Luna's worried stare, and she continued more firmly. “I am fine, Luna. Really.” This second assurance thankfully uncoiled Luna's tense body. She continued to stare, however. “Are you coming then, sister?” she asked Celestia, who looked back down at her plate. Her own food, a salad arrangement similar to what Luna had been having, was barely half gone, but she didn't really have her appetite anymore. She seemed to shrug as she stood up. “Yes, I suppose I am.” The two sisters walked around the table to the door and started down the hallway. After a short distance, Celestia made to excuse herself from Luna's company to handle the rest of the day's royal court. Luna still looked troubled, but conceded nonetheless. The two bid their short farewells, and Celestia promptly reached the throne room doors and opened them. She nodded at each of the two guards and climbed up to the dais. She was thankful that nopony was currently requesting an audience. As she sat upon her throne, Celestia gazed distractedly out the closest window in the chamber. The lack of light through the stained glass made the ponies depicted upon it look a dark grey, and the inside of Celestia's head rumbled like the many storm clouds now visible in the sky. ~\\***\***/***//~ “So... good trip?” Spike offered awkwardly. Twilight didn't even acknowledge him, her eyes locked onto her bedroom door on the library's second floor. She started up the stairs, silent and quivering. What had gotten into her? Spike swore to himself that he would never ask another question again if he could just get this one in particular answered. A surprised yelp sounded from the middle of the staircase down towards Spike. Quick breaths and a nervous laugh followed after. Twilight had tripped on a step and now continued on, ascending no less shakily than she had started. Preferably very soon, Spike added. He admitted to himself that he might not have helped matters. As he had set about cleaning the house as expected of him that morning, Spike ran into the difficulty that the decorative pony figurehead was just too heavy for him to lift back up onto the middle table on his own. He had ended up rolling it across the floor and leaning it against the front door. He then forgot about it and continued on with his work elsewhere. Spike had never imagined he had just set an accidental booby trap, and late that afternoon when he heard a shriek followed by the sounds of a struggle, he had run down the stairs to find Twilight caught underneath the wood carving. She was flailing her limbs uselessly, the muzzle of the woodwork pressed into her own. The unicorn had apparently completely forgotten about her magic amidst her hysteria, and for a moment, Spike had stared bewildered on the bottom step. Eventually, he, along with a very speedily present Pinkie Pie, helped Twilight. Pinkie credited her “Pinkie Sense” to her sudden arrival before bounding off again, apparently hunting for the source of a doozy. Twilight's bedroom door did a quick open-and-shut courtesy of her remembered magic, and the speed of the action created a loud enough slam to rattle Owlowiscious off of his perch. After his master’s rocky departure and homecoming waking him up twice before, this third rude awakening seemed to be the little owl’s breaking point. It was fast-approaching evening anyways, and a fourth attempt at slumber would be a pointless endeavour. He settled on the edge of the table, too sluggish to do much flying around. He was at eye level with Spike, and the two shared what could have counted as a sideways glance. Both Spike and Owlowiscious could hear Twilight frantically pacing in her room. Over the hoofsteps beating out a fast, four-note rhythm, Spike thought he could discern some kind of monologue. He couldn't distinct the words, though, and he made to start up the stairs to press one of his fin-like ears up to the door for a listen. The bottom stair, always a doozy itself, creaked beneath the miniscule weight of even the baby dragon. The faint voice instantly stopped, and in the ensuing silence, Spike heard the sound of hooves a second time. He swore, now feeling his own kind of paranoia, that Twilight was looking through the wooden door and down the steps straight at him. Unnerved, he quickly hopped off the rickety step and ran back to the figurehead. It was now lying on its side just within the library's threshold. Spike knew Twilight couldn't truly see him, but he tried to look and feel busy anyways. His head felt a more taxing exertion, racing on his singular thought. Spike could never have understood in that moment that he and Twilight were behaving in harmony. ~\\***\***/***//~ Only when Spike had shuffled his way into the bedroom and into his bed did Twilight realise how long she had been pacing. In those several spent hours, the evening had turned to night, and she crawled beneath her own bed covers to substitute her monologuing with exhausted delirium. The throb of her head ached in tandem with the rest of her body. The thoughtful hours saw fit to continue, regardless. Pale light shone through the window. The curtains were pulled back to make the moon visible beyond the pane. Staring at no single dot upon the lunar surface, Twilight let her thoughts pour out unabated. The day past quantified itself in the days ahead. The few quiet hours of Twilight's daily schedule discarded their relaxation time to make room for her to grieve. Her secret would need to become a part of her day. A pain she would only experience whenever she allowed herself to. It was a necessity if she was going to stay quiet and stay sane. You can't stay quiet, the voice chided again. Look what happened a mere few hours ago. What more proof do you need? This... thing is going to eat you apart. Twilight made to mentally protest herself, but a loud grumble followed by a muffled snore made her cover a hoof over her mouth. This position continued until she realised she had been thinking, not talking. She flushed in embarrassment before realising nobody could see her either, making her discomfiture equally pointless. Twilight saw the only possible witness to her plight, Spike, was completely submerged into his basket-like bed. His covers were pulled completely over his small frame with only the tip of his tail sticking out. A light, indistinct rumble could be heard, and Twilight imagined Spike must be dreaming. The fear of what her own dreams may bring was at least part of the reason why she herself was still awake. If Twilight told anypony that was the only reason, however, she would be lying through her teeth. What then? she posed. What then, what? the voice answered back with its own question. I have absolutely no clue what I am going to do now. What good will..., Twilight couldn't bring herself to even think it in full. What good will doing... that do me? None. I can only make things worse for myself. Twilight Sparkle. I never imagined you to be the selfish one. Twilight could feel tears brimming again. I'm not selfish! How am I— Remember how it felt? Twilight's senses betrayed her as she suddenly felt very cold. Her attempts to brace against the chill, wrapping her blankets around herself in a body cast, failed. The catalyst of the freeze was within her small body, in a duet with her self-hurled accusations. No. No, I don't remember. I've forgotten. Is that so? Maybe if you had a hundred years to remember instead— You don't know that! You don't know how long she's— Well she's there for a bit longer, thanks to you. Twilight's weeping became a full on sob. She tried to quiet down, but her unnatural chill took advantage of her nerves to put her in spasms. Her tears shook with her. You've forgotten, you said? The cold finally froze Twilight, and she nodded stiffly. She felt ridiculous. Childish. Maybe you need a reminder. Twilight remained stiff as she heard rustling. Her bedroom window's curtains were in an awkward dance as wind blew in from outside. Twilight didn't remember leaving the window open. Owlowiscious had seemed too sluggish for much want of outdoor activity. And yet there sat the window, unhinged from its lock. On any other night, this thought would have confused Twilight. On this night, it terrified her. For a reason inexplicable to even herself, she resolved to keep quiet in her steadily mounting dread. The one lucid sliver of her that was left seemed to be demanding her degradation be quiet out of courtesy for those who were still sleeping. The thought of Spike made her sit up instantly. She took a full five seconds to turn to face his bed. Dread settled itself over Twilight's judgement, she having since convinced herself of an intruder. But in the moonlight she discerned no silhouette other than the same basket, Spike curled up inside like an orphaned foal. Amazingly, considering Twilight's sobs and the not-so-gentle breeze blowing indoors, it was only now Spike was giving any hints of his slumber being disturbed. Twilight still couldn't see anything other than his tail, but the concealed frame was now writhing as though in discomfort, and louder muffles than the previous snores were leaking through his covers. Twilight tossed aside her sheets, ignoring her fatigue. She started towards Spike's covered form in pensive steps. She had clearly woken him up, and maybe a few reassuring words from herself could be enough to lull him back to sleep, this time in plain sight. She had a hopeful theory that seeing him so at peace would have a tranquil effect on herself as well. Directly before the bed now, the long tail revealed itself in a reflexive spasm and nearly whacked Twilight in the face. Twilight frowned. Maybe it was a strange trick of the light, but she could have sworn the sheen given off by the scales of Spike's tail was an unusual hue, sickly in its spectrum. She felt her heart quickening at the thought of something being wrong with Spike, and magically threw the covers off in a single sweep. At almost the same time Twilight released her grip upon the blanket, the previously covered figure rose from the bed. Its quick, lithe movement belied what should have been the slow awakening of a sluggish dragon. The shadow that bore down on Twilight was certainly larger than she remembered Spike being. As she looked up towards the head of the full risen figure, she first noticed the small, yet imposing wingspan. And then upon the craned head atop a skinny, feathered neck, she saw the eyes. Twilight was once again frozen against her own volition, and a terrifyingly familiar sensation began to play itself across her. Her neck could not turn her head away from the being she beheld, which regarded her maliciously with its tiny red eyes. The creeping feeling began to cross the boundary of her collarbone to lock the rest of her body in place. Twilight's scream came in at the same time as the cockatrice's bellow before her face was swept over by stone. ~\\***\***/***//~ Although only a mere silhouette amidst the darkness, the head spines gave the sleeping figure in the basket away as Spike. It was the first thing Twilight saw when she awoke, and she found herself immensely grateful. Seeing Spike snoozing soundly in his basket like he belonged had likely kept her from panicking so loudly. In her position on her side, Twilight's back was to the window, but the black cover of the room told her well enough that it was closed and the curtains drawn over it. As she breathed deeply, she began to remember locking her quarters up shortly before going to bed. The room's air tasted dusty, and she suppressed a cough in her blankets. When you said you didn't remember, you were lying, weren't you? Silence. ...Well? Twilight shifted her bed covers off, and gingerly crossed the wood floor. She opened her door and crossed beyond its threshold. She peeked back into her room as she shut it behind her, her eyes lingering on Spike for as long as they could. Twilight descended the steps and made a leap over the creaky final one to land knees bent upon the ground floor. She straightened herself out to walk over to the front door, and stopped only to sift through her saddlebags seated on the floor beside it. She contemplated their contents, but in the end decided only to take her coin purse filled with a hoof-full of bits. It wasn't like she needed much else besides train fare. When Twilight realised she was counting out enough bits for three trips total she shivered, the dream's cold briefly revisiting her. Before she could change her mind, Twilight hurried out the door. ~\\***\***/***//~ Only after he had heard the muffled close of the front door did Spike dare to leave his bed. He had slept only lightly that evening, his alertness coming back more rapidly than he was used to. He did, though, have a bit of additional aid for his wakeful state. It sat by his bedside in the form of a tiny ball of feathers. He stared back. “Hoo?” Twilight had apparently not taken Owlowiscious into account in her sneaking out, and the tiny owl's concern for his owner was apparently enough incentive for him to arouse Spike from sleep as well. Spike would later mark the event off as one of the few times he was ever grateful to be woken up early. Making his way over to the balcony doors, Spike couldn't help but open them tentatively. He knew Twilight would almost certainly not think to look in his direction, especially with all the library's lights still off, but he had been feeling uneasy enough in the past few hours to desire a bit of caution. Spike seemed to be in the night's favour at this particular time. The moon, partially concealed by a cloud, provided just enough light for him to see, but all the same kept it dark enough for his stealthy liking. Peering downwards over the balcony railing, Spike spotted Twilight making her way towards what he could only assume was the train station. A sudden gust of wind passed over Spike's head, and Owlowiscious was out into his element and headed straight in Twilight's direction. His beak was firmly clamped shut, not letting out a single one of his regular hoots. This, along with Owlowiscious's steady, high elevation, smoothed over Spike's reflexive worry that he was headed to speak to Twilight. He seemed directly above her now, and Spike only hoped that the little bird wasn't casting a shadow as he tailed her. Twilight was now out of sight around a building's edge, but her location was still visible due to Owlowiscious's own position high above her. Spike re-entered the library with a grim sense of determination. He walked over to his lectern and pulled up his stool to be seated. He lit a single candle and laid out a scrap of parchment. After Spike had finished writing he inhaled a deep breath, and the rolled scrap of paper disappeared in a plume of green flame. The only letter he had ever written to Princess Celestia without any dictation from Twilight was on its way to the princess's royal chambers.