//------------------------------//
// Chapter 3 
// Story: Darkest Before Dawn 
// by Sessalisk 
//------------------------------//

	
Darkest Before Dawn


by Sessalisk



Chapter Three


	










	(Okay, shut up. I drew that in five minutes.)
















Twilight glanced at the clock on her nightstand, 6:07 AM – two and a half hours to get clean and ready for school, more than enough. She hadn’t really taken a proper look around yesterday, but the second door in her room turned out to be a bathroom. 

The strangeness of everything took until that very moment to hit her. She wasn’t at home anymore. She’d never had her own bathroom before. For her whole life, Mom and Dad had been there, usually no more than a few rooms away. 

Not anymore. 

There was a knot in her stomach as she realised how alone she was.

Twilight bit back her anxiety and decided to take her problems one at a time. This was one of those issues that actually would go away if she didn’t think about it… Hopefully. First, though, she had to get clean. First… she had to get off her uniform.

There was absolutely no way, Twilight thought, she could undo those buttons with just her teeth or hooves. Just to see what would happen, she tried to reach out for them with her magic. There was an unpleasant sensation as her thoughts parted and refused to collect in the proper ways, splitting and reforming against some sort of mental wall. She could remember how to perform the spell in an intellectual sense, how she’d done it in the past, all the steps in the correct order… Still, it didn’t feel right, like the part of her brain that strung it all together was missing. 

She fumbled at the buttons of her uniform with her front hooves for a while before giving up. Twilight seriously considered chewing them off the vest, but even that wouldn’t work; she couldn’t bend her neck far enough to reach more the very lowest one. It took a while for an alternative solution to make itself clear.

She lay with her belly flat down on the carpet, held her front hooves straight forwards and wriggled while scooting backwards with her hind legs. 

Twilight was so glad that no one was watching her right now. 

The friction made the vest flip inside-out over her head. It slid further and further, until the bottom hem lifted right over her hooves. Suddenly, the neck hole caught on her horn and the fabric refused to budge any further. Her front hooves were cocooned in the reversed vest over her head.

She was stuck.

“…”

Either she could stay like this all day and skip her classes or lose a bit of dignity and ask for help. Twilight didn’t even need a second to consider her options.

She hop-squirmed her way over to the door of her room, unable to walk at all with both forelegs bound inside the vest.

“Open, door.” The door swung into the lounge. Twilight could see through the little hole at the top of her vest-tunnel that there were some ponies in the room. She flopped onto the stone floor. For a moment there was complete silence.

“Somepony please help me…”

She couldn’t see anything but she heard the clip-clop of hooves.

“What’s going on?” said a deep male voice.

“I tried to take off my vest,” Twilight told him, trying to be as patient as possible. “I got stuck and I need help getting it off.”

From the far corner of the room, Twilight heard a stifled giggle.

The stallion next to her had a coughing fit, one that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

“Ah.” He coughed again. “Sorry, bit of a dry throat.”

She felt the buttons of her vest coming undone one by one. The fabric was pulled over her head and her forelegs were free. She stood up, feeling mortified.

There were six adults around, all keeping very very straight faces and definitely not looking at her. There was a beige mare with an apple cutie mark standing near a sofa. Twilight recognized the mare from her exam. The mare’s face was in a grimace and a corner of her mouth kept twitching upwards.

Twilight forced a smile and grabbed her filthy vest with her mouth. “Um… Thankyousomuchforhelpingmewiththat. Bye!” She bolted back into her room. 

She buried her face in her hooves. This had to happen on the very first day.

Twilight took her sweet time washing up, wanting to be absolutely sure all the teachers were gone before she went back out into the lounge. Luckily the shower was similar to the one she had at home, x-shaped handles that could be easily turned with her hooves or muzzle. 	

Naked and dripping, Twilight looked into the drawer at her other six vests and ties. She didn’t dare try to slip one on over her head. 

If she ever got her uniform on, Twilight vowed, she would never take it off ever again. She would bathe in it, be smelly in it, itchy in it. 

Clothes just weren’t worth the trouble if you couldn’t use magic.

Her teeth were another problem. Not thinking she’d need it, Twilight had left her toothbrush-glove back at home. Without magic, the little toothbrush itself was going to be tricky to use. 

Pinning the toothbrush’s handle to the sink with a hoof, Twilight maneuvered her teeth to rub against the bristles. This felt incredibly silly and after a while her neck started to cramp. The toothbrush slipped a little under her hoof, dragging a line of toothpaste across her cheek. Gah!

After she was sure she had missed breakfast, Twilight gathered up all her books and made her way up the tower’s central staircase to grab something to munch on before class.

The kitchens were cozy looking, filled with ponies who, from the looks of it, were already preparing lunch. 

“Missed breakfast?” asked a cyan unicorn mare with a pie cutie mark. 

Twilight nodded. 

“Yup, gimme a sec.” The mare left for a moment, walking into another room and then coming back with an orange and a sealed thermos hovering above her head.

“Um, I don’t mean to be rude or anything,” Twilight said, “but I can’t actually eat or drink either of those.”

“Whatcha mean? You allergic to oranges and coffee?” 

Coffee? Dad had always said she was too young for coffee. “Oh no, it’s not that,” Twilight said with a shake of her head. “I just can’t use any magic. I can’t open the thermos or even peel the orange.” 

The mare gave her an odd look, but didn’t comment. “Be right back then.” The cyan unicorn returned with another lid and a knife. She replaced the old lid, and split the orange into four segments, putting them on a paper plate.

Twilight put the thermos in her saddlebags. “Thanks a lot!” She snatched up the plate in her teeth and quickly descended the five spiraling flights of stairs to her first class, History and Magical Theory.

The door was already open and looking inside, she saw five ponies dressed smartly in their uniforms, sitting up straight and looking nervous. Twilight kept her eyes peeled for a grey filly with glasses, but Echelle didn’t seem to be among her classmates. She glanced down at her nakedness with unease. 

Why do I never show up wearing the same thing as everypony else?

The clock on the wall said there were still five minutes until the start of class. She devoured her orange slices quickly and walked over to the garbage can with her peels and paper plate. Something hit the back of her head. 

Twilight whirled around and saw a crumpled up ball of paper. All the other ponies sat still, not saying anything. Maybe somepony had aimed for the garbage can and missed. 

She picked up the paper ball with her teeth and dropped it in the can. 

The front row desks were all occupied, so she took a seat behind a brown filly with a wild-looking beige mane. Twilight was surprised to see that the filly didn’t have a cutie mark. 

A couple of colts strode into the class together and sat on opposite sides of the room.

Two minutes till class starts. Where was the teacher? Twilight pulled the thermos out of her bag. The lid had special grooves for being held with teeth. She tilted her head back slightly and took a small sip of coffee.

“Ppplllbbbtthhh!!!” Boiling hot coffee spluttered all over her desk. Her tongue burned. The thermos clanked to the floor, brown liquid slowly dribbling on to the ground.

Twilight cursed under her breath. Snickering peppered the otherwise-silent classroom. At least she hadn’t gotten coffee on the filly in front of her.

She picked up her thermos and looked around for anything she could use to clean up the mess. One minute until class. The second hand of the clock crawled slowly towards the top.

Twilight gave up and mopped up the coffee with the fur of her left forearm.

She heard another snicker.

She sighed. Definitely not the best first day she’d ever had.

A blue stallion trotted into the classroom, horn glowing. His white mane was styled in a short bob, his cutie mark a golden laurel. A large cardboard box hovered in front of him and floated down onto his desk. With relief Twilight realised that he hadn’t been in the teacher’s lounge this morning. Still, he looked familiar. 

Then she remembered - he was one of her examiners.

A piece of chalk floated in the air and scratched “Mr. Yorsets” on the board.

“Everypony please come up to the front and collect your textbooks.” 

Twilight pushed herself out of her desk and followed the throng of students. Mr. Yorsets stopped her before she could get all the way to the front of the class.

“Goodness, why aren’t you wearing your uniform?”.

“Princess Celestia bound my magic,” explained Twilight. She knew she was going to have to explain this a lot and she was already sick of saying it. “I can’t put my uniform on without it.” 

Mr. Yorsets stared blankly at her for a moment. Slowly she saw recognition dawn in his eyes. “Oh yes, Twilight Sparkle,” he said finally.

When all the students had reseated themselves, Mr. Yorsets cleared his throat.

“Welcome, students,” he said, “to your first day at Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.”

Twilight reached down to pull a book from her bags and then a pen. She reeked of dried coffee.

“Many, if not all of you, have been told that it is impossible for a unicorn to learn magic outside of his or her special talent.” His head was raised in the air and he held a hoof to his chest. “Here at this school we will teach you how this so-called fact, is merely a myth.” He gazed across the classroom dramatically, making eye contact with all eight of the students.

What’s with all the pointless theatrics?

“Any magic can be performed by any unicorn,” said Mr. Yorsets, not breaking his stride. “Some of you will be better or worse than others, but all of you are capable of casting any spell. Once you understand the intricacies of magical theory, all magics will be open to you, whether or not they have to do with your special talent.

“With knowledge, hard work and practice, one can become competent in spells that would normally elude anypony without a natural proficiency in them. 

“Magic is not a mysterious force that can only be felt in the heart: knowledge too can set power free. Not every one of its aspects is entirely known or understood, but neither is this the case with any of the more mundane sciences. Magic follows certain inviolable rules and a logic of its own. It is an art. It is a science. Magic can be known and magic can be understood.

“Everypony open your textbooks to page thirty-four.”

Nopony was taking notes. Mr. Yorsets had given them very little actual information. Judging from the expressions of some of her classmates, most of them already knew this stuff too.

Still, not everypony was on the same page. One unicorn, a straw-coloured colt with a platinum blond mane, was sitting there with his jaw hanging slightly open, eating up every word. Twilight’s mind meandered, wondering how dry his mouth must be, and whether or not she’d trade a sandy, pasty mouth for one with a burned tongue that tasted of acrid coffee residue.

“… not only the four pillars of unicorn magic. Who can name them?”

Twilight raised a forehoof. Four other hooves darted into the air. Three of them belonged to a crimson filly with a gold five-pointed star on her flanks. Twilight saw, from the twitch in her remaining leg, that if she didn’t get picked soon she would try for all four – and then probably fall off her chair. Twilight lowered her forearm slightly. The other five students had their hooves half-raised, but glanced around the classroom before putting them up all the way.

Mr. Yorsets looked in the red filly’s direction and seemed to concentrate for a moment, “Yes, Ms. Gingersnap?”

Twilight hadn’t noticed till now, but Mr. Yorsets hadn’t taken any kind of attendance or even asked for their names. She counted all her classmates again, realising truly, that there were just eight students in this whole class. Gingersnap tossed her striking gold and black mane. “The four pillars of unicorn magic, also known as the four L’s, are the spells: Light, Levitation, Come to Life and Illusion."

“Correct. Well done.” 

The red filly puffed out her chest at the praise. 

“The four pillars are simply among some of the easiest spells to cast, usually not even needing to be taught. They are also quite useful or even necessary for day-to-day affairs, which makes it highly likely that ordinary ponies will become fluent in them. There is nothing special about the four pillars other than these two facts. Ponies become good at them because of practice. Every unicorn has his or her own interests and through basic exercise, spells become better, stronger.”

Most of this was already common sense.

They need boring first classes to get everyone up to speed

The lesson was two hours long and by the end of it, the only new information Twilight had taken away with her was that coffee was really gross. After the first half hour or so she had started to fall asleep. 

Although it always did the trick, she didn’t keep herself awake by flipping through the textbook while the teacher was talking because reading in class usually got her in trouble. 

In the end Twilight had done what she’d seen her parents do after a long night of paperwork, and gulped down all the now-drinkable liquid in her thermos. She made sure to do it as quickly as possible so that she wouldn’t have to taste it. No wonder Dad had never let her try any. It was awful. 

Now her heart was fluttering, she had a headache and there were fifteen minutes before she had to get outside to her next class.




“Here’s what’s gonna happen, maggots,” said Ms. Marie, trotting back and forth in front of several piles of rocks. 

Twilight remembered her from this morning as the grimacing beige mare. The sun shone brightly overhead. 

“I’ve got a bunch of different sizes of rock here, from little pebble all the way up to boulder. The weights are carved into the sides.” She picked up a cow-sized boulder with the number 800 engraved on it and held it in the air as if to demonstrate. “You runts are going to grab the heaviest thing you can pick up, and then move it across the field. 

“When you’re done, do it again, and then after that, again and again and again. Keep doing that until I tell you to stop. Is that clear?” 

There was a chorus of “yes” and “yes ma’ams”.

The stone flew towards them. Everypony scattered. The boulder hit the ground three feet from where a dark blue filly had been standing just a moment ago.

        “Don’t even think of picking up something smaller than you’re capable of!” The rock drifted back towards Ms. Marie, clumps of dirt and grass dripping off the bottom. She lowered her voice. “I will know.”
        
        Twilight swallowed nervously, wondering what would happen to her now that she couldn’t manipulate even a grain of sand with her magic. 

        She watched the brown filly she’d sat behind last class throw a dog-sized rock halfway across the field. The filly ran after it and then tossed the rock the rest of the way. So far it was the biggest thing Twilight had seen any of her classmates lift, but this apparently wasn’t good enough.
        
        “Why aren’t you taking this class seriously, Tambourine?” Ms. Marie asked her in a soft voice.

        The rock held steady in the air as the filly opened her mouth to reply.

        “KEEP MOVING THAT ROCK, WORM!” A boulder crashed down from the sky, missing the filly by inches. Dirt flew everywhere. Twilight hadn’t even seen the rock approach. “You don’t stop until I tell you to stop!”

        Twilight winced. The brown filly, Tambourine, obeyed and pushed her rock to the other side of the field with her magic, then started heading back with it the other way.

        Ms. Marie followed her, glaring. “If you can lift your rock that easily, you need a bigger one!”

        Tambourine looked like she wanted to respond, but every time she opened her mouth to say something her rock stopped moving. 

Ms. Marie continued to yell. “Go get a bigger rock! What are you, stupid?! The pile’s right over there!”

        Looking like she was about to cry, the brown filly carted her original stone back to the pile, but it wobbled in the air and kept falling back down to the ground. She’d been surefooted before, but now she kept tripping over her own feet. Tambourine grunted and groaned trying to pick up an even larger weight, one that sparkled briefly and rolled a few inches before coming to a stop. 

        Twilight flattened her ears in sympathy. It wasn’t fair. Tambourine had been doing better than anyone else in the class before Ms. Marie came along to shout at her. The teacher, though, looked satisfied and moved on to another student, a pastel yellow colt with an orange mane and crossed horn and book for a cutie mark.

        Twilight looked around at her classmates and saw that they were all now consciously making sure they looked like they were putting a lot of effort into their magic. Several screwed up their eyes in false concentration and one dark blue filly’s rock, along with its ordinary bobbing, now dropped purposefully in the air as well.

        Ms. Marie turned away from the colt she’d been shouting at. 

A look of relief briefly crossed his face.

        “I can tell you’re pretending,” she said to them all in her low, dangerous voice. Ms. Marie’s huge glimmering boulder floated down from high in the sky. 

Twilight and a few others backed away, spreading out, anticipating that at any moment, the rock would come careening towards her. 

“You brats think you’re tough? The best of the best?” 

The rock split down the middle into two equal halves. 

“So good that you don’t need to challenge yourselves? Improve?” 

In an impressive display of magic Ms. Marie whittled the rock down into two stone ponies - an earth pony filly and colt. 

        “You’re like rocks!” 

Spiderweb-thin lines of light crazed the head of the stone filly. 

“Rocks don’t change! Rocks don’t grow!” Ms. Marie gave a wordless bellow and the head exploded. 

Glowing red rubble flew everywhere, barely missing the students, grass sizzling and smoking as pieces skittered around on the field. 

“Rocks don’t care about anything! They lay about even when somepony comes along to push them around, smash them up!” 

The headless stone filly rose higher in the air. Its left hind leg tore off slowly with a sickening, gravelly grinding noise. 

“You can do what you please to rocks because rocks are dead!” 

The rest of the legs soon followed, ripping off and falling one-by-one to the ground. 

“DON’T BE A ROCK!” 

The filly’s legless barrel dropped back to the earth on top of its amputated legs and the pieces of its shattered skull. 

Ms. Marie glowered at all of the students. “Now get back to work before I decide to get angry!” 

Suddenly, the stone colt heaved into the air and came crashing down headfirst into the stone filly’s broken torso. The blank, emotionless expression cracking into the filly’s chest again and again and again, rocky muzzle fracturing into smaller and smaller pieces with each blow. 

Twilight heard whimpering. By the time the colt’s neck was nothing but gravel and sand, she realised that the sound was coming from her own throat. 

Panting, Ms. Marie turned back to the pastel yellow colt she’d been ordering about before the interruption. “Look at my face and tell me just how many craps I give about your lack of control! Now, get a bigger rock you little piss-stain!” 

Twilight listened in shock. Was it appropriate for a teacher of all ponies, to be using that kind of language?

The yellow colt scurried towards the rock pile, ears pinned to the very back of his skull.

Twilight tried to make herself look as inconspicuous as possible, which was hard because she was naked and purple. 

There was a filly with a coat of the brightest and most vivid orange Twilight had ever seen, and the filly seemed to have the same idea as her, with even less success. She looked clean and was in her uniform, but wasn’t using any magic either.

It was unclear whether the orange filly was one of her classmates. She was taller and ganglier than any of the other ponies and seemed older in some other way that Twilight just couldn’t put her hoof on. Still, it was half an hour into class and including the both of them, there were exactly eight students here, just like in the last class. Twilight wondered if she should go over and say something.

Either way, the orange filly paid Twilight no mind, looking at the grass, her own lumpy mushroom cutie mark, sometimes just staring blankly ahead. She never spared more than a passing glance at Twilight or any of the other students. 

Twilight watched Ms. Marie order about the rest of her classmates, criticising their technique and inefficiency, although every, “No, lift with your whole body, not just your head,” was accompanied with at least two epithets and a fit of shouting. The teacher didn’t seem to care about Twilight or the orange filly, ignoring them in favour of the other students. 

At first Twilight was too terrified of the teacher to start on her homework. After an hour, fear turned into impatience and she began to skim through her copy of Beginner’s Magical Theory. Ms. Marie still didn’t pay any attention to her, while the other students toted their rocks and shot her envious sidelong glances.

The teacher was absolutely silent while she scratched at her clipboard. After a few minutes she gave six of the students a slip of paper each. Twilight only knew from eavesdropping on the after-class discussions and by peeking at the other papers that they were the weights they were supposed to be able to lift by the next class. With her book out and magicless, Twilight took longer than anypony else to pack up. Ms. Marie said nothing to her until the students, even the orange filly, were all gone.

“Twilight Sparkle.” Ms. Marie’s voice was calm and even. 

Immediately Twilight’s muscles seized up; every hair stood on end. 

The beige mare looked directly at her for the first time. 

Is this about me doing homework in class? Twilight tilted her head up to show that she was listening, but didn’t quite meet the teacher in the eye, not wanting to say or do anything that might cause her to erupt in a fit of rage. 

“Until you’ve got your magic back, I expect you to sit quietly at the side and not cause any trouble. Understood?” 

Twilight’s mouth was dry. Her tongue was thick and disobedient, words curling up and dying in the back of her throat. She couldn’t remember how to make sounds.

Ms. Marie’s tail swished like an angry cat’s. 

Twilight gave a weak nod.

“Read or do your homework if you need to.” 

Twilight blinked at the teacher’s apparent mind-reading skills. 

“Now scram.”

Twilight bit down on her saddlebags and tossed them over her shoulder in one frenzied motion, then galloped away. 





Lunchtime was different. 

Twilight had walked past the twenty empty tables that lined the dining hall earlier that morning, paying little attention to them. Now a large chunk were occupied.

The teachers all sat in one area, but not all of them were present. Other than that there was no arranged seating as far as she could tell. All the students, anywhere between fifty and a hundred of them, clustered together to eat in a chaotic, organic way. Many of the older students had food already and took their meals away with them, out of the dining hall. 

The fillies and colts who were Twilight’s age flocked together from all directions into a shifting herd of about a dozen or so, slowly breaking off to mingle into smaller groups of twos or threes, then clustering back together again around a couple of tables. Twilight didn’t know where she fit in all of this. After she returned the empty tray and thermos, she sat at the far end of one of the dining tables, alone. 

Four adult unicorns placed covered trays in the middle of every occupied table. They lifted the lids with their magic, then trotted back into the kitchen. Glazed carrots floated in the air, everypony serving him or herself. 

Twilight stared at the food longingly. Her stomach growled. 

The ceramic plate was heavy and felt unpleasantly glassy against her teeth as she walked up towards the platter of carrots. Without warning, her right rear hoof planted itself to the ground and she stumbled forward, the smooth plate slipping to the floor. There was the tinkle of broken china. 

Somepony nearby sniggered. 

Twilight looked down and saw little shards of white porcelain scattered all over the tiles. She couldn’t see anything trapping her hoof. 

Come on! She thought at it in annoyance, tugging at her hoof with all her strength. Suddenly she couldn’t feel anything gluing her hoof to the floor anymore. Her leg lifted free. Unbalanced, she teetered, then tumbled head over heels. A sharp pain grazed her left shoulder. She lay there disoriented for a while, then shakily, got up.

A prim female voice came from behind her, “What in Equestria is going on here?”

“Muh?” Twilight turned her head and was face to face with a yellow unicorn mare. She had curly hair of the very lightest shade of purple and a pair of half-moon spectacles.

“What just happened?” repeated the teacher.

“Oh, I tripped… I’m sorry, it was an accident…”

“I hope this isn’t something of a regular occurrence.”

“Um…” 

“You need to tidy up the mess you made, young lady.”

“I –” There was a salty metallic smell in the air. The stern-looking mare wrinkled her nose and came far too close to Twilight for comfort, inspecting her shoulder. 

“Tsk. Looks like we’ll have to get that taken care of first.” 

Twilight peered around the mare and saw a red four-inch gash across her right side, just below her withers. It was bleeding a little and although it didn’t really hurt, her stomach turned a little at the sight. It was just a small cut, though. What did she mean by taken care of?

The yellow mare clip-clopped out of the dining hall and Twilight followed sheepishly behind her, consciously ignoring her shoulder.

“Do you know where the nurse’s office is, Ms. Sparkle?” 

Twilight shook her head. 

“This way, then.” 

Twilight trailed after the teacher, down staircase after staircase. Staring at the brilliant-cut diamonds on her flanks, Twilight wondered what the mare’s special talent was. Finally the two reached all the first floor, heading into an out-of-the-way room. 

Inside was a dark blue stallion with a bandage over his leg… no, Twilight squinted and saw that it was actually a cutie mark. Without a word, he moved over to Twilight, examining her cut. 

“Why are you wasting my time with this?” The nurse frowned, looking past Twilight and at the teacher.

“Her magic isn’t exactly functional at the moment.” 

Now he looked concerned. Sure, talk about me like I’m not here…

“Ah.” He cocked his head and walked a full circle around Twilight. A soft white light radiated from his horn, then traveled to Twilight’s body, starting down at her hooves and moving upwards. “Just a scan,” he said in what Twilight assumed was his this-won’t-hurt-a-bit voice. 

The spell tingled against Twilight’s skin, through her muscles and down to her bones, but she bore it as well as she could. She resisted the urge to shake herself off, to physically try to flick away the lingering spell-feeling. 

“Mmm-hmm…” His horn flashed and then so did hers. 

Twilight’s horn itched terribly and then was numb. 

“Was this the work of a student?” he asked. It sounded like he already knew the answer.

“If you consider Princess Celestia to be a student,” said the teacher, replying for her. 

“Oh!” He appraised Twilight’s horn with his magic one last time, then bent down to look at her with a serious look on his face. “Young lady, if another student had blocked your magic... 

“If any untrained pony ever tries to take away your magic, a student, or even one of your parents, I want you to come to me or another teacher straight away. 

“With an amateur spell, if you had injured yourself, it could take days, weeks or even months to heal.

“You might have gotten a scar or you could have even… gotten sick, from it.” 

Twilight blanched at that. She wasn’t fooled by his euphemism: he didn’t mean a cold or an upset stomach, gone after a day or two. She shuddered at the thought. Oozing pus-filled sores, deadly wasting sicknesses, weeks in a hospital bed and bumpy inflamed wounds - all stuff straight out of a horror novel. 

“No, no… No need to worry,” he said, trying to reassure her. The way he said it, it could be that maybe he was even trying to reassure himself a little. “This is professional spellcraft. All your circulation, magical or otherwise is in working order.” He pulled a bottle and some cotton balls out of a shelf. 

Twilight grit her teeth as he washed and daubed her shallow cut with the stinging liquid in the bottle.

“You should be fine by tomorrow. In the meantime, go get something to eat and if it doesn’t look fully healed by morning, check in with me just in case. Please see her out Mrs. Lonsdaleite.”

By the time all that was over, there were only ten minutes left for lunch. Twilight made her way up to the dining hall with haste, found an empty table and devoured carrots, alfalfa hay and dandelions right off the platters, paying no heed to the stares. 

She was starving and didn’t care.

Her eyes darted up to the clock on the wall - three minutes.

Still chewing on a dandelion stalk, she took off again, bolting off in the direction of her next class.



One of the teachers of Science and Mathematics was an earth pony.

“I call myself Benoit Misiurewics, but you may call me Misiurewics or just Benoit,” said the orange-brown stallion. He had a strange accent, sounding like a pony who had lived or even grown up in a country other than Equestria. He pronounced his vowels slightly differently and stressed different parts of the words than Twilight would herself. 

Twilight hadn’t spotted him this morning in the staff room, or at lunch in the cafeteria and he was the only earth pony teacher she had seen in the school so far. He had a fire-blue mane and bright red eyes, and while both were flashy and clashed violently with his coat, neither stood out more than his lack of a horn. It was a while before she even noticed his cutie mark, an extremely convoluted black, white, blue and red curling frond of some sort, spiraling out from the center in several different directions. It was the most complicated cutie mark she’d ever seen. Everything about this pony seemed flashy and outlandish.

The second teacher, on the other hoof, looked absolutely boring. He was an off-white unicorn with a greying mane and beady black eyes. Twilight pegged his cutie mark as a popular model of what a tiny, uncuttable theoretical particle might look like with some sort of base at the bottom. Twilight wasn’t nearly as interested in him as the earth pony until, in a watered-down version of the first teacher’s accent, he introduced himself as Peu de la Pouliche. 

Somepony gasped, a purple-maned filly with an orange coat. Twilight’s eyes widened in recognition of the name. Her parents, Mom especially, had spoken emphatically about him in a way that bordered between admiration and fearful disapproval. She saw his cutie mark for what it really was.

The second teacher was Few Colt the Blasphemer. 

A thousand questions ran through Twilight’s mind. … Why is he a teacher here at this school - the Princess’ own school?… How did he get a job here at all? What does the Princess think about this? Would she banish him if she knew? Is he going to try to proselytize us? If I pass this class am I going to be a blasphemer too? Worry ate at her with this last thought. Princess Celestia would renounce her as a student at the very least. Twilight vowed not to let him get to her. She wouldn’t be swayed by any of his heretical theories, no matter how convincing he made them sound. 

“I understand my name can be quite a mouthful to those born and raised in Equestria, so you may call me Mr. Few Colt if you wish,” he said in his dry, mild voice. 

There were more gasps. Twilight saw Echelle give a look of surprise from across the room. Twilight had wanted to sit near somepony familiar, but all the seats next to Echelle had been occupied at the start of class, and she’d settled for front row on the opposite side. 

Few Colt’s ears twitched a little. “This is a large class and Benoit and I will be teaching you basic math and science for the next few months. It will be easy at first. You may know everything we teach you, but I beg, do not take this class lightly. We will move quickly and it will get much more difficult as we go along. That is fair warning, no?”

The first teacher, the earth pony, took over then, going over addition, subtraction and multiplication tables, making sure everypony understood the simplest and most elementary arithmetic. Few Colt wrote on the large chalkboard for him as he spoke, the two almost seeming to have one mind. 

“Mr. Wicks?” asked the orange filly who’d recognized his birth name. She had a hoof in the air. 

The earth pony sighed. “Misiurewics, not Monsieurwics, especially not Misterwics. As in Mister Misiurewics,” he said, correcting her. “If you can not say it, please call me Benoit.”

“Okay Mister Benoit,” she said, undeterred. “Why do we have to learn this garbage, anyway? This isn’t sit-there-and-do-equations school.” 

Twilight stared at the filly in disbelief. How could the filly who’d first recognised him not know the answer to that question? How could she be so… so… disrespectful? 

Mr. Benoit looked like he was about to reply. 

Few Colt, however, did not give him the chance. “Math has to do with everything! It is the only purely objective field of study that exists. If you want to go into magical research you will need to know numbers as well as any mathematician.”

The filly crossed her forehooves, looking unimpressed.

“If you don’t want to learn math, leave this school, then! Go be some dockworker’s apprentice!” 

Misiurewics cleared his throat and flicked his tail. “Maths is on the… programme of all schools, no?” 

The orange filly cocked her head slightly.

“Whether you are at this school or not, you have to learn maths. It is a requirement. If you have more questions, see me after class if you please, mademoiselle Sky.” 

Twilight heard Few Colt mutter something under his breath, but couldn’t make out the words. 

She didn’t like him. He was too touchy and Twilight had a feeling that he didn’t like kids at all. She still didn’t know why he was here. She didn’t want him to be here.

Unfortunately, the class was a long one, a four-hour double block of math and science with only a fifteen-minute recess in-between. Four hours every other day for him to whisper his heresies to them, far too long, in Twilight’s opinion.

Twilight ached to leave after the first two hours when she was used to seeing the end of a school day. Over the course of the class her cut scabbed over, skin knitting together, becoming whole again, all the while feeling raw and itchy as healing wounds are wont to do. It was hard paying attention to Mr. Benoit’s lesson on long division when her shoulder prickled the way it did. The other students shifted impatiently in their chairs until the end-of-the-day bell rang, probably feeling the nine-hour school day just as keenly as she did herself. 

After rubbing off the scab, a thin red line underneath her fur was all that was left of her cut by class’ end, a thin red line that, in Twilight’s experience, would hopefully fade to nothing by breakfast. She was glad the Princess’ spell hadn’t made her sick or anything.

Twilight had learned from her previous dining attempts and just went straight to the kitchen an hour before dinner would be served. A different unicorn provided her with a flask of hot soup and some dinner rolls that she could take up to her room to eat while she chipped away at her already-sizable amount of homework. 

Later that night, while using her pinned-down toothbrush workaround, Twilight had smeared her face with toothpaste three times and poked herself in the nostril only once. She saw it as a great improvement over that morning’s attempt.

She meant to go back home that evening to grab her toothbrush hoof glove. She really did. 

By the time Twilight was finished with all the assigned reading and math problems, though, the sun had set long ago and she felt sleepy and lazy. Maybe tomorrow, she thought to herself with a yawn. 




The first class the next day was taught by a pinkish-brown mare named Mrs. Lida. Her mane was fiery red and her cutie mark was a scroll, which set in Twilight’s mind, the disquieting idea of burning books.

“Raise your hoof if you like reading!” the teacher said cheerily, in a voice more often reserved for much younger students. There were over a dozen hooves in the air. 

Sky, who Twilight remembered not entirely fondly from Science and Mathematics, was one of the few who had all four hooves planted firmly on the ground. She looked bored.

Textbooks floated in sixteen different directions, one to every student. Then, more books flew at them, novels, poetry compilations and short story anthologies. By the time the teacher was through, there were no fewer than a dozen books on each desk. 

Twilight wondered how she was supposed to fit all of them in her saddlebags. 

“Take good care of these. You’ll be needing them for the rest of the semester, but the sooner you get started on them the better.” She smiled brightly. “Now who knows what a gerund is?”

A crimson hoof waved eagerly in the air. “Ooo! Ooo! Me! I know!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight didn’t know what she expected from Practical Application, but it definitely wasn’t this. 

The teacher, the one who had taken her to the nurse the other day, offered no textbooks to them. Instead she had all the students write out a list of their skills, even the ones that had nothing to do with magic. She made them put down absolutely everything, even things that were stupid, like how Ace, the easily-awed colt from History and Magical Theory, could walk on his hind legs for three hours straight. 

Mrs. Lonsdaleite kept encouraging them with the words, “Always know your limits, but never forget what you’re capable of.”

After they were done with the lists, Mrs. Lonsdaleite made up scenarios and imaginary problems, getting the entire class to brainstorm the best ways to solve them. 

“Now if a horde of zombies was at your door, what would you do?” Mrs. Lonsdaleite asked one student, a black-furred colt with a mane of red, yellow and blue.

The two of them had a back and forth relay of questions and answers, determining that the building had windows on every floor, that the zombies could walk but not run and that it was indeterminate if they were intelligent. Strangely, the teacher did not lose patience with all the colt’s questions.

“Umm… Okay,” he said. “First I think I’d go up to a second floor window and ask them if they’re friendly or not. If they respond and it turns out they’re friendly, I invite them in for tea.

“If I don’t get an answer I’ll assume they’re stupid zombies that want to eat me. Then I’ll lure them into the house through the front door and lock them into a room without windows.

“If it turns out they’re smart and hostile, I’ll try to reason with them, and if that doesn’t work I can run out through the back door because even though they’re intelligent, they can only walk so they can’t catch me.”

The teacher looked pleased. “Well done, Nightbreaker!” She turned to the rest of the class. “That is an excellent use of problem-solving skills. Everypony else should be taking a leaf out of Mr. Nightbreaker’s book.” 

The black colt smiled shyly. 

“First find out the most important information relevant to your situation, then use your knowledge, terrain and skills to your own advantage.”

“It wasn’t that great,” said Gingersnap, sulkily. “What if the zombies are tireless and can chase him until he gets so pooped that he can’t run anymore? Or what if it turns out they were only pretending they were stupid or nice so that they could ambush him? I mean, if the zombies were smart at all then they would say they were friendly whether they were or not! Or what if -”

“That’s quite enough, Ms. Gingersnap,” the teacher said, cutting her off. “Those are good observations, but most of those consequences can only come into play after any given action. Like I said, Mr. Nightbreaker’s was an excellent example, not a perfect one.”

“What would be a perfect example then?” the filly asked.

Twilight heard Sky’s voice piping up from across the room, “Burn them all to the ground!”

“Call the royal guard!” Gingersnap added, not wanting to be out-done.

 Another colt decided to add in his two bits as well. “Explode them!” he yelled enthusiastically. 

There was an eruption of voices. Just about everypony in the class wanted to find the one perfect solution for what to do with the zombies. Colts and fillies shouted left and right, guessing at the single correct answer. Twilight tried to make herself heard over the other students, insisting that maggots, scarab beetles or some other carrion eaters should be released upon the zombies. Beside her, Echelle was saying something about a machete.

“Settle down, class,” ordered Ms. Lonsdaleite. “If you continue to make such a ruckus I will put you all in detention!” The class went quiet abruptly.

“Nearly all of your suggestions were absolutely useless. How are you supposed to call the royal guard if you don’t know if you have a radio and can’t leave your house? Useless! Where would you even find an ursa major to squash all of them? Useless! Do most ponies have scarab beetles or vultures tucked away in their homes somewhere? Worthless!

“Which of you has enough power or skill to ignite an entire horde of zombies? If you can’t do it with magic, where are you going to get the materials to start the fire and how would you get it on the zombies? It’s a stupid idea at best and a dangerous one at worst. Likewise, Demise, can you, you personally, set off an explosion large enough to destroy all of them?” 

Twilight saw a tall orange filly next to Echelle stare down at her hooves, looking utterly miserable. She was the same filly from Ms. Marie’s class, the one who wasn’t doing magic. Twilight tried to remember if the tall filly had suggested anything, but her mind drew a blank.

“You are all forgetting that whatever you may be facing, there is always a reason that it’s doing whatever it’s doing. By trying to destroy the first strange thing you see, without even an attempt to learn its motives, you behave as monsters.” 

The classroom settled into a shamed silence. Mrs. Lonsdaleite gave them all a stern look.  “There is no perfect solution. There is never a perfect solution to life’s problems.” 

Twilight sighed in disappointment. She wasn’t the only one.

“Still, one must always do one’s best.”

The class continued on - noticeably, with less enthusiasm.





After an abrupt lunch, which Twilight ate in her own room, she made the trek to Notation, Reading and Casting. She had been looking forward to this class since Marching Dawn had given her a class schedule. 

The teacher was a grey stallion with darker grey hair and purple eyes. There were a couple of music notes on his flanks. 

“I’m Jazz,” he said simply. His voice was very familiar. “Oh hey! Vest-girl!” 

Twilight’s cheeks reddened, hooves clacking together as she used them to cover her face. 

“Nah, it’s cool,” he said with a slight nod. “Could’ve happened to anypony. Reminds me of this one time I had waaay too much to drink and I woke up with my underwear on my head. I still don’t know how that happened.”

Twilight blinked. Is this appropriate?

“Oh yeah. Sorry. Class.” He turned around to face all the other students, who were staring at him with slightly confused looks. “Okay guys, I’m gonna teach you all to read spells and stuff. Look into your heart and know everything is real or something like that. Yadda yadda, so on and so forth. Anyone have any questions?”

“Uh,” said Twilight, “aren’t you supposed to be teaching us?”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?”

“Um… Not really,” a midnight blue filly added, looking more than a little perplexed.

“Well what do you want to know?”

The filly raised her eyebrows.  “How to read spellbooks I guess?”

“Oh yeah, that’s easy.” 

With a lazy flick of his horn, a desk drawer opened and a book flew out. The book hung in the air, flipping wildly before settling on a seemingly random page. 

“Each of the squiggly little symbol things is called a glyph and they all represent different things.”

Squiggly little symbol things, Twilight thought.

“It’s sorta how like the alphabet has different letters you can use to represent different sounds, except there’re more of them with magic... and instead of sounds the little marks represent spell formations and stuff” Jazz copied a huge symbol to the chalkboard. “See that swooshy line there?” 

The students watched as he traced a part of the glyph in the air using his magic, leaving a large glowing curve right beside him.

“That means to push your magic downwards to the pit of your stomach, or to wherever the heck you get your emotions from. Your liver? Brain maybe? Wait no… that would be up? Dunno. Then this pointy thing here –” 

Wherever the heck you get your emotions from, Twilight repeated flatly in her head. This pointy thing.

He moved his horn upwards, then downwards in a jerky motion, drawing out and adding a different section of the glyph to the first with another line of magic. “That’s to get send all the magic and junk out of your horn.” 

The magic and junk?

“The kinda dash, hyphen… thingy over there, that’s to tell you that you gotta keep going and do more magic after.” He went over the other three glyphs in the sequence in pretty much the same manner. “…and then you string them together to create a whole spell.”

Twilight gaped at the teacher in disbelief. With all the references to thingies, whatsits, doodads and whangdoodles, she wondered if he knew anything at all about what he was teaching.

One thing that could be said in Jazz’s credit, or perhaps to his demerit, was that he answered any question anypony asked him, no matter what it was. At one point a pale amber filly had asked a classmate, a little too loudly, if he was on drugs. Jazz overheard, shrugged and replied, “Not today.”

Later on, Tambourine asked what crawled up Ms. Marie’s butt and died. 

His response was just, “I dunno. She’s really not that bad if you get to know her. I think there might’ve been one of those little new potato things once, but I can’t remember if that was actually Ingrid or Cloudy Skies… Uh, don’t tell her I told you that.”

Twilight tried to steer the discussion back on track, asking him about the names of the different things that made up a glyph, and what certain ones did, but the other students kept firing their stupid queries at him, about other teachers and his past, all sorts of things like that. 

When class had ended, Twilight had learned far more about Jazz’s misspent youth than she ever cared to know, and far less about magical notation than she had ever hoped of learning.

She was exasperated and tired, more than ready to call it a day by then, but she had one more class left, Control and Practical Precision. It was a lot like Mental and Physical Education, all things considered. 

Twilight had to sit out the entire class, spending the whole time watching the teacher, a pinkish-purple mare named Ms. North Star, instruct her classmates on how to pull off delicate and finicky magical maneuvers. 

The tall, orange filly was in her class again. She still stood there, off to the side like Twilight, silent, not doing any magic. Without Ms. Marie there, Twilight felt like she should at least introduce herself, since it seemed like they were going to be partners in this game of standing there and not getting in the way of lessons. 

“Hi there,” Twilight said. She smiled in a way that she hoped looked friendly.

“Hi.” The tall filly’s voice sounded a little raspy. She looked at Twilight and then quickly looked away.

“I’m Twilight Sparkle.”

“Rune.” 

Twilight searched for something to say, “Uh… Nice to meet you.”

“Same here.”

Aha. Twilight recognized her own trick. 

She was about to call Rune out, but just then somepony nearby lost control of the potato he or she was supposed to be peeling. The spud sailed through the air, hitting Twilight in the rump. 

“Ow!” She could feel her leg starting to bruise.

“Careful there, Belaq,” said Ms. North Star, retrieving the fallen potato from under Twilight’s hooves. “Don’t apply more force than is necessary and always keep every object in your mind at any given moment. Don’t let your concentration flag for even a second.”

The filly she was talking to, the one who’d asked Jazz if he was on drugs, nodded and started on her potato again. Belaq saw Twilight watching her and gave her a toothy smile.

“If you ignore it, it’ll stop,” said Rune suddenly. Twilight was a little startled, having forgotten that Rune was even there.

“Be calm,” she said again. “Don’t get mad,” Rune closed her eyes for a moment, then looked away.

Twilight stood there, confused, but the tall filly didn’t say any more. All Twilight’s attempts to get Rune to clarify, or even talk about anything else were just met with silence. Eventually she gave up, opening one of her textbooks and starting on an assignment.





The rest of the week passed in a flurry of lessons. Between the long school days and the massive amounts of homework, Twilight didn’t have any time to go home at all. She had trouble just finding the time to write a letter to her parents about her first week, telling them all about Princess Celestia, not being able to use magic, her weird room, classes, the teachers, the nine-hour school days, and not being able to come home on weekends. She finished her letter with a plea for them to mail her the hoof-glove toothbrush she’d left behind.

Near the end of the week, Dad dropped in personally, bringing her the glove and all sorts of things she hadn’t thought of asking for, like her old hairbrush as well as several magnetic clip-on vests and ties that made things much easier. He also brought sweets and cookies, way more than she could ever finish herself.

“Share them with your classmates,” he said with a smile. “They put you up here all by yourself, but you should make some new friends too.”

Mom was at work, so when it was time for him to leave, Twilight gave him a hug, not wanting him to go. She told him to give Mom one for her too.





When Friday’s classes had finished, Twilight wasn’t sure she would have time to study with the Princess over the weekend. She wasn’t even sure she even wanted to go anymore. She missed Mom and Dad more than anything, last week’s lesson with Princess Celestia, now only a distant memory. 

Still, she felt like this was something she had to do and made her way to the castle in the light of the setting sun. 

She gave all the extra treats from Dad to the palace staff. Cupcakes to the guards, donuts to the cleaning staff, cookies to anypony that passed her by. She didn’t see Alpine Wind, but gave extra treats to a mare who claimed to know him, asking her to pass them on the next time they met. 

Twilight waited for the Princess in the room she’d been in the week before, having an impromptu dinner of her favourite leftover lemon cake.

“My, that looks delicious,” said Princess Celestia as she stepped into the room.

“Your Majesty!” Twilight stood up quickly, so she wouldn’t seem improper. “Uh, would you like some?” Twilight looked down at the half-eaten slice of cake that was all that remained of everything Dad had given her. “I can give you a piece I haven’t bitten from.”

“Oh no. I’m fine,” the Princess said quickly. “I’ve already eaten.”

“As long as you’re sure.” Twilight was relieved that she wouldn’t have to share this piece of cake. 

“Oh yes.” 

Twilight didn’t need any more confirmation and lowered her head, finishing off the rest of the lemon-flavoured pastry.

“How was your first week of school?” Princess Celestia asked once Twilight had finished cleaning the crumbs off her muzzle.

“I didn’t know that the classes would be so long… or that there’d be so much homework!” Twilight backpedaled quickly, “I’m not complaining, though. I like learning and studying… I just got taken kind of off-guard.”

“Ah, yes. The school is on a rather accelerated program if I recall.”

Twilight puzzled over the Princess’ words for a moment, “Don’t you make up the school’s lesson plan?” 

“Once I did, when Equestria was smaller. Now I leave that mostly up to the board of education and my assistant, Marching Dawn.” Princess Celestia turned and walked out of the room, motioning for Twilight to follow. 

“What happened?” The two of them carried on, up a flight of stairs.

“Nothing much,” said the Princess, slightly unfolding, then refolding her wings as she climbed up yet another staircase. “Or perhaps you could say that a little bit happened, and over time, a little became a lot.”

“Huh?”

“There are more ponies born every year than the year before. When Equestria was young, I knew every pony by name. With so few of us, it was such a simple thing.” the Princess looked wistful for a moment. “One pony could take care of everything, ruling, teaching, nurturing, providing, but as Equestria grew, I relegated many of my duties to other ponies.”

Twilight felt a little silly. She should’ve known that Princess Celestia had better things to do than teach foals how to do magic. The Princess walked out onto the rooftop, Twilight following closely behind her. The night air was crisp and cool. A crescent moon peeked out from behind a cloud and intermittently through the clouds and Twilight could see Cassiopeia shining brightly overhead.

“I’m sorry…” Twilight said finally.

“About what?”

“I guess… that things aren’t the way they used to be. I- I don’t want to have to waste your time when you’ve got bigger things to take care of.”

“Nonsense,” the Princess said, shaking her head. “I have more time than you would think. And no matter how much time you have, life is always too short for regrets.

“One day when ponykind can manage all its own affairs I will have more free time than I know what to do with. My master plan is to speed Equestria along to that point so I can spend all my time getting good at hoofball.”

Twilight faltered in her step as she digested that. “I, uh, didn’t know you played.”

“It’s harder than it looks!” the Princess said with a wink.

Finally, once they’d reached the deserted place on the roof, Princess Celestia turned to Twilight. 

“I’m going to remove the binding I placed upon your magic, now. This might feel a little strange.”

All the shingles and tiles of the rooftop were illuminated with a warm, yellowish light. Twilight watched her horn glimmer as all the old spells undid themselves. White bangles of energy unraveled from the tip of her horn to about half an inch from where it connected to her skull. The air felt a little colder and after the last bit of light left her, she struggled to stand up, her legs feeling weak and shaky. She was surprisingly okay with this, or rather - she didn’t care at all.

There was a final ring of something or perhaps, nothing around the very base of her horn. She felt it first, and then started to see wisps of it dissipating, oddly enough, seeing it better, seeing more of it, as there was less. The air started to take on a strange energy, feeling charged and alive. A strange pressure was gone from her, one that she didn’t even know was there, one that didn’t fit in with any of her perceptions of her own body, of touch, sight, taste, smell or sound. 

It was warm again and she felt strength seeping back into her legs. Twilight filled her lungs with the chilly night air, feeling electric and like every part of her body was filled with light and some unnamed emotion.

“You’re right. That does feel weird.”

The Princess smiled softly. “So I’ve been told.”

Tentatively, Twilight probed a roof shingle with her senses. All the little pockmarked holes and nicks sent intangible alien sensations through her horn. She lifted a nub of broken tile into the air, feeling a kind of wonder at her ability to use magic at all. She laughed and made the little piece of earthenware dance overhead, a tail of glittering sparks shooting out from behind it.

Princess Celestia sent a second piece of tile into the heavens after it, faster and steadier, leaving long, glowing blue trails. It whizzed around Twilight’s tile forming swirling patterns in the darkness. Twilight didn’t know how long the two stood there drawing shapes in the night sky.

When at last, Twilight put the little bit of shingle down, the Princess gave her a grin. “Ready to carry on with lessons now, Twilight?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

With that, the two of them continued at the same punishing pace they’d started the week before. 

“Be single-minded, Twilight Sparkle. Don’t think of anything else but focusing your magic through your horn.”

It was easier said than done. Discharging that much magic was painful, although it didn’t hurt as much as she remembered. Princess Celestia assured her that she was doing better than last time, but Twilight wasn’t sure if the Princess was just saying that to be nice. 

One thing that she could be objectively proud of, though, was during one attempt when she’d caught her concentration slipping, the magic pushing beyond the pathway she’d laid out for it. She hadn’t known it could be done, but she refocused the spell into a slightly different form. 
Her light spell changed colours from white to green. 

The small escaped bits of magic turned into droplets of applesauce that came splashing back down to the ground, raining on both Twilight and the Princess. She caught herself losing focus again, and the light spell shifted from green to red, more magic coming loose this time, white daffodils sprouting out of the ground. 

Finally, she lost complete control and Princess Celestia had stopped her before anything worse could happen.

It wasn’t a success, but it was a breakthrough.

“Princess Celestia?” Twilight asked, later on that night.

The Princess looked like she was just about to send another spell at Twilight, but the light died down to nothing on her horn. “Hm?”

“Why haven’t I run out of magic?”

“You had a lot of magic to start out with.” 

Something still didn’t quite add up.

“At the start of the summer I had trouble moving a piece of paper. During my exam I ran out of magic just from failing to do a spell. How come I have so much now?”

“You’ve always had the same amount of magic. It’s just that with time and practice it gets easier for you to access.”

“But isn’t there a limit to how much magic a pony can have? I mean… if I could just send it out endlessly, or even just as much as I’ve been doing during practice, why do we need other kinds of power at all? Wouldn’t everything just be powered with magic?”

“Well, not everypony can use that much magic. It’s a rare gift.”

Twilight’s eyes widened as she thought of all the ways that she could personally provide vital services to all of Equestria. “I should- I should plug myself into some sort of generator so that we’ll have enough energy stored up in case we ever run out of coal or wood or something. Everypony with a lot of magic should!”

“I’m not sure that would be the best course of action…”

“Why not? If I’m the only pony for the job then I should do it, right?”

The Princess looked uncomfortable for a moment. “You only have enough energy for two or three outbursts like that.” She sighed. “I’ve been feeding power back to you so that you can last through these practice sessions.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Twilight wasn’t angry, not really, but still she didn’t understand why the Princess felt the need to hide something like that.

“I’ve never enjoyed touting strength over my subjects, Twilight Sparkle. Perhaps you have already gotten a taste of it yourself, but when other ponies discover that you are capable of using an excessive amount of force… their minds easily turn to fear.”

Twilight chose her next words carefully, gathering her courage. “Princess, forgive me if I’m rude in saying this, but I don’t care that you have way more magic than me or anypony I know. I’m just a little filly and you’re ruler of our whole country. You move the sun.” Twilight looked at her earnestly. “I already know that if you ever decided to, that you could destroy me.”

The Princess cringed. 

“But I also know that you wouldn’t do that to anypony.”

The two stood there in silence for a long time. 

“You are braver than I gave you credit for, Twilight Sparkle.” The Princess looked sad for a moment. “I apologise for not being more upfront.” 

“That still brings up another question, though.” Twilight tilted her head quizzically. “How much power do you have?”

“That, my faithful student,” said Princess Celestia with an unreadable expression, “is an answer that would be best saved for another night.”





Twilight was more tired than she would admit. The Princess must have seen it too, since she ended the lessons early, only an hour and a half past midnight. A servant showed her to a guest room, one that was normally reserved for visiting dignitaries. She noted the lavish surroundings, groggily. 

The bed was luxuriously soft as she curled up into it and she fell asleep almost immediately. 

The next morning she delighted in the ordinarily unpleasant task of brushing her teeth. The toothbrush floated into the air on its own, without the aid of her hooves. Not once did she get frothy toothpaste all over her face. The bathroom, too, was very fancy, with everything made of white or black marble, even the toilet. Twilight pretended she was an officer from a foreign country, holding her head high and arching her neck regally. She used her toothpaste to draw downturned eyebrows on her forehead and a large moustache above her mouth. She made a serious face in the mirror.

 
“Admiral Blackmane, today we march to war!” Twilight raised a hoof in the air. “All hooves to the cannons!”

She giggled and washed the toothpaste off her face. It felt a little wrong to leave such a nice room in a mess, so she cleaned the sink and made the bed before she left.

Twilight tried to find her way to the palace’s large dining hall for breakfast. She got lost several times and had to ask for directions, but eventually made it into the huge hall in one piece. 

The Princess and a number of other ponies were already seated. Twilight pulled out an empty chair with her magic and sat down. 

Several of the grownups glared at her. 

Am I at the wrong table? she thought nervously, worried that she had already made some sort of faux pas.

“Young lady, this isn’t some sort of cafeteria where common fillies can just plant their filthy hooves anywhere,” a nearby mare hissed at her. 

Twilight glanced at her hooves. They were a little dirty, but she’d cleaned them this morning… and then she had to walk all the way to the dining hall. Maybe she was supposed to put on a pair of the elegant white gloves most of these ponies were wearing?

“What nerve,” said a younger mare beside her.

A white stallion made a tutting sound. “Not even properly dressed either.”

Twilight’s cheeks flushed and she got up from her chair, leaving the table. I’ll just… eat my meals in the kitchen from now on, Twilight thought to herself. She turned to leave the room, hearing more sounds of disapproval from behind her. 

Suddenly there was silence and then the scuffling sounds of hundreds of chairs sliding backwards. All noises, of eating and talking, stopped. Twilight turned around to see what was happening, and saw that Princess Celestia was standing. The other court ponies were following suit.

“Twilight Sparkle,” she said gently, although her voice carried across the huge room. “Such a hasty exit is unnecessary. You may seat yourself next to me.”

The word may implied that she had the right to refuse. Twilight wasn’t sure she wanted to be so close to the center of attention in this room - to be under the scrutiny of all these dignified, courtly ponies, stares piercing her from every corner. She’d read somewhere, though, that refusing such an offer from royalty would be a breach of etiquette all on its own. 

Twilight trotted nervously to the Princess’ side at the end of a long, rectangular table. Several ponies scurried in from everywhere, bringing cutlery and a chair. A server brought her a small glass bowl with fruit, granola and yogurt, all arranged in several layers to make a colourful parfait. It looked almost too pretty to eat.

She looked down at the two spoons and three forks on the table, not sure which one to use. “Small one on the left,” whispered Princess Celestia.

Twilight levitated the small spoon carefully, keeping it as steady as she could, lest she appear like an amateur magic user in front of these ponies. She felt their eyes on her still. Twilight didn’t have much of an appetite anymore, but ate mechanically because she felt she should.

Beside her, the Princess went very slowly, barely touching her food. She ate a spoon of her fruit salad occasionally, almost as if to let the attentive servers know that she wasn’t quite finished yet. When the eating of all the ponies in the room had slowed down considerably, Princess Celestia finished off the rest of her fruit and stood quickly before a server could bring her another portion. Twilight saw the rest of the court get up off their chairs as well. Not wanting to seem even more out of place, she did the same. 

All at once, everypony knelt, which Twilight hastily mimicked. The Princess returned the gesture with grace and then turned to exit the room. 

Twilight stood there for a moment, unsure whether she was supposed to follow or go off on her own. All the gentry were already leaving. 

“Aren’t you coming, Twilight Sparkle?” The Princess walked quickly without turning around and Twilight’s hooves made muffled clop sounds on the carpet as she cantered to catch up.

“The first time few times dining at the royal table are always intimidating, but you get used to it eventually,” said Princess Celestia. 

“Tell me about it. Those ponies were kind of mean…”

“The nobility are all old families. They do their best to be courteous in their own way, but many of them pride themselves on knowing everypony worth knowing.” The Princess, walking slower now, turned left and headed down a corridor. “They’re not used to seeing new faces join them for breakfast, especially when those new faces start violating the little rules and protocols that they make for themselves. Try not to judge them too harshly.”

“Oh,” Twilight said, trying to remember what she’d done earlier. “What did I do wrong?”

“Mmm… well, among other things, the court ponies have seating arrangements for themselves. The chair you took earlier belongs to Duke Solar Wind, and the mare who scolded you earlier was his wife, Duchess Prominence. She probably wasn’t too keen on you taking her husband’s place.”

“I had no idea,” said Twilight, feeling disgraceful. “I didn’t mean to be rude like that.”

“Nothing of great importance,” Princess Celestia said. “The thing about etiquette and politeness is that although they can add ease to a social situation, they are essentially meaningless.”

“But you’re always so polite!”

“Only because it’s expected of me,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. She stopped in front of a door. “There is going to be a meeting with the Board of Meteorology in this room in about ten minutes. You are welcome to explore the palace in the meantime, or you could even accompany me if you wish. If you do decide to come, though, I would suggest you grab something to read.” Princess Celestia turned the handle with her magic and stepped in. “You will likely find the meeting to be quite tedious.”

 Twilight had always wanted to see what weatherponies did and how they made the weather, but decided to heed the Princess’ warning anyway. An hour into the meeting she was glad she did. All the cool stuff, like statistics and weather trends, weren’t a part of the meeting at all. The only thing they talked about was budget!

Twilight followed Princess Celestia from meeting to meeting that day, finding out just how busy the Princess’ day-to-day affairs were, and boring. 

The councils didn’t even stop for lunch. At noon servants brought dainty little watercress sandwiches, which Princess Celestia nibbled at politely, but didn’t really eat, and a flagon of clear white grape juice, which Princess Celestia sipped at, but didn’t really drink. Twilight was more than happy to have the Princess’ share, not really having anything else to do. She’d taken three naps and finished almost the entire weekend’s worth of homework by sunset. 

Some time after dinner, the two of them found themselves back on the dim rooftop. The Princess stood casually on the tiles, horn aglow.

“So, what did you think of today?” 

Twilight watched in awed silence as the sun set behind her, feeling very privileged. 

She remembered the Summer Sun celebration, the keen yearning for knowledge, the first strange stirrings of power. She remembered how, not long after… 

The thing she’d tried to do. 

The months-old memory was still fresh like a wound. 

She didn’t expect, or even want to move it. She only wanted to see if she could feel it in some way other than just the warmth of its light on her coat. It would be like scrying, she’d thought. 

She had stood outside where she could see, could remember how she’d gone against all common sense, the pain of staring right into its light. She had sent her magic up, high in the sky, stretched it and stretched until its glow was invisible, too thin to see or feel. Her touch had gone farther than she’d hoped, past the rooftops of Canterlot, higher even than the clouds. She could remember what it was like to have the whole mountain, above her, beneath her and inside her.  There were phantom pains in Twilight’s eyes as she remembered how her two perspectives had become one. 

Eventually, this part was hazy and hard to recall, she’d gone to some vast empty place, cold and black, even in the light of day. It swallowed warmth, thought and light like the ocean swallows tears. There was nothing she could anchor herself to here, and her magic was already pushed too hard, pulled too far…

Dad had found her on the porch, had brought her back inside where she’d slept for a whole day. It was another day before she could see with her eyes again. She’d never told him or Mom what she’d tried to do, and they hadn’t asked her, but they’d almost certainly guessed...

“How do you do it?” Twilight said after a long pause.

“Do what?” 

“Sit there all day, every day, in boring meetings, I suppose,” Twilight said, not entirely sure what the Princess would think of her if she admitted what she’d done.

“They may not seem that interesting or relevant to anyone not well-versed in the bureaucracy, but I assure you that it’s not as dull as it appears to be on the surface.”

“But you’re the princess, shouldn’t you be more than just a bureaucrat?”

“What I am is just a reflection of what ponies require of me.” Almost as if to emphasize what she’d said, her horn flashed and the sun finally sank below the horizon. Immediately, her horn blazed a second time and the moon began its glacial arc across the sky.

“Could… you teach me how to understand what they’re talking about?”

“Tomorrow, if you choose to attend the meetings again, I will do my best.”

This night’s lessons weren’t much better than the night before. Twilight didn’t make any new breakthroughs and she was just as bad at the end as she was at the start. She’d managed to stay awake until dawn, though, which was a marked improvement over last night. Maybe it was all the naps. 

Princess Celestia stood where she’d stood the whole night, doing whatever arcane magics she used to raise the sun. 

“You don’t need to fly for that?”

“Not at all. What I do at the Summer Sun Celebration is mostly just for show.” 

Twilight had expected this answer, and it didn’t change how impressive the feat was… but it was still a little disappointing somehow. “Ah,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

Princess Celestia started heading down the stairs, which Twilight suspected the Princess used only because Twilight didn’t have a pair of wings herself. 

“You should get some sleep, some breakfast, or perhaps both.”

“Aren’t you tired?” Twilight asked, genuinely curious.

        “From the looks of it, not nearly as tired as you must be.”

        Twilight supposed that was a correct assessment. 

Breakfast passed by in a sleepy fog. Occasionally Princess Celestia would whisper suggestions to Twilight, which she would then follow mindlessly. To be frank, she was too tired to really care what the aristocrats thought, too tired to even notice them. She fell asleep with a spoonful of porridge halfway to her mouth and woke up seconds later with a sticky muzzle covered in oatmeal. 

Twilight couldn’t remember what happened next, only that she somehow wound up in a meeting with the Princess and she had all her homework with her. She found herself slowly gaining consciousness in a place full of voices, and raised a hoof to wipe away the crusted drool from the side of her mouth. Unwittingly, Twilight had fallen asleep sitting next to Princess Celestia, who apparently, hadn’t decided to wake her. 

 Oh jeeze... I hope I wasn’t snoring too.

Princess Celestia was true to her word and for the remainder of the meeting, whispered to Twilight, explaining the meaning of some of the jargon in laypony’s terms, the ideas behind everything that was happening. 

Sleep-deprived as she was, Twilight could absorb very little. The Princess’ lessons oozed their way through her head like a river of mud, slowly, and leaving behind an incomprehensible sludge of concept and vocabulary. 

Twilight did her best, but so little made sense to her the way she was. This stuff probably had the potential of being interesting... if only she could clear the gunk out of her mind that was making her so sluggish and stupid. 

Freedom came at last when the meeting came to a close. 

I’m useless like this. Being here is the same as not being here. “Sorry Princess Celestia,” she said, “but I think I really need to sleep.” 

“I would say so! Pushing yourself so hard is unhealthy.” Princess Celestia trotted down the corridor to what Twilight assumed was yet another meeting. “We will meet again at the usual time, in the usual place. Get a good rest, my faithful student.” 

When Twilight woke up she couldn’t recall much that had happened before her nap other than that there had been a meeting and she’d ended up back in bed. 

It looked like late afternoon outside. Twilight went through the ritual that she did every morning, washing, brushing and the like. It was a little odd, though, that it was already four o’clock. She packed up her things and finished off the last bit of homework she had left before dinner. The Princess was already there by the time she got down. Twilight knew now that if she started with the cutlery on the inside and worked her way towards her plate, she’d usually be okay. It paid to copy whatever Princess Celestia was doing, since everypony else seemed to be as well.

Twilight waited on the rooftop for the Princess to arrive. Princess Celestia had taken off after dinner to an emergency consultation. It wasn’t an ordinary meeting, private or something, and far away. Twilight couldn’t attend. It was dark by the time she spotted a white speck over the horizon. 

Four golden-shod hooves touched down on the tiles. “I am sorry for the wait, but I was needed urgently.”

“It’s alright. The view up here’s amazing!” She used a hoof to point at the sky, “Draco, Perseus, Auriga... I can even see Camelopardalis over there.” Twilight squinted at a fixed point above them. “I need a telescope to see it at home, in November!”

Princess Celestia looked distant and Twilight worried she was boring her. “It’s refreshing to see young ponies taking a proper interest in the night sky,” she said after a while.
“Only rarely do you see a non-pegasus so enamoured with constellations.”

“Pegasus ponies are big on stargazing too?” Twilight mentally revised her opinion of pegasi, putting them into much higher esteem. 

“Above the glow of the city, the light of the stars is more robust. When travelling far over land or sea, over long distances and changing landmarks - they can be used to find where you’re going,” the Princess said. “Or they can be used to find your way home.”

“You can see them better when you’re flying?” Twilight, filled with envy, could hardly believe it. She’d sent herself into the sky and hadn’t seen them at all. It was months before she had enough saved up to buy her first telescope... all the lawn mowing and lemonade stands... 

The Princess looked amused. “Yes, the higher you are, the easier it is to see stars.” She gestured at the mountaintop with one wing. “You are quite lucky to to be living in Canterlot, in that sense.”

“What’s it like to fly?”

There was a funny look in the Princess’ eye as she said, “I thought you would never ask.”

Twilight felt gravity change directions. She tried to dig her hooves into the ground, but the slickness and hardness of the roof tiles made it all but impossible. She flailed wildly as she was pulled to the edge of the rooftop, looking for something, anything to grab on to. 

There was nothing. 

Twilight’s mouth went dry. Out of sheer desperation, she wrapped herself in a cocoon of her own magic. It was useless, like trying to pick yourself up by your own saddle. She went straight over the side of the roof. 

Twilight fell.


Windows and stone blurred past. There was no screaming and her life definitely didn’t flash before her eyes. Still, in the back of her head she thought, as you can only think when you’re falling off the top of a tall building, how funny... and disappointing it was, that she’d be in magic kindergarten for the rest of her life.




White forearms locked around Twilight’s midsection. 

“Gotcha.” 

It had been only three seconds before Princess Celestia caught her, but it was forever.

The Princess, wings outstretched, dipped in her flight. There was a rush of air and a couple of powerful downstrokes and they started on an upwards ascent.

“Why’d you do that for?” Twilight said, once she’d recovered enough to speak. Twilight, now seated on the Princess’ back, was shivering, only partially from the cold. Her fur would be standing on end if it wasn’t being blown back. 

“You asked.” Mighty wingbeats on both sides pushed them higher and higher in the sky. 

The Princess’ mane glowed faintly and surged violently on a gale of its own. Occasionally a wisp of it would break against Twilight’s body, transforming into long, colourful, but ordinary hairs. The hairs would move with the actual wind until they stopped touching her. Free of Twilight’s influence, they reformed back into light, moving once again, of their own accord. 

If Twilight wasn’t so angry, she would have found it fascinating.

“You could’ve just, you know, described it to me.” Twilight’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “At the very least you could’ve said, ‘How about we go for a nice ride over Canterlot then, Twilight?’” She knew how unwise it was to antagonize the only thing that was keeping her from splattering messily against the ground five hundred feet below, but she persisted anyway. “You didn’t-” Twilight had to catch her breath, the wind stealing it away from her. “You didn’t have to throw me off the castle!”

“I could have done those things, yes,” admitted Princess Celestia, her voice remarkably clear despite the continuous drone of the breeze. “But then where would the fun be in that?”

Twilight let out a sigh that was immediately blown away. She felt a bit of a shift as the Princess stopped ascending. Princess Celestia spread her wings wide and they broke into an even glide. 

As far as Twilight could tell, the Princess was flying slowly, but the wind was constantly growling, lashing at Twilight’s face, making it difficult to breathe and hear. Cold air blasted cruelly into her eyes, drying them out and forcing her to blink over and over again. She lay flat and pressed her limbs close to her body in a vain attempt keep the wind from snatching away any lingering warmth.

She looked up above them, eyes stinging. This was what it was all about, wasn’t it? But the stars didn’t seem any closer or brighter this close to the ground. 

She peeked over the Princess’ wings and risked a downwards glance. 

It was a little like what she’d seen when she’d sent her magic up into the sky. Before it had been like being everywhere at once; her house had been below her, but it had also been above her, beside her and inside her - big, small, medium-sized all at once. 

Now she was standing on the highest tower in the world, looking down. The lights of Canterlot glimmered below, tiny and distant. The lights bled and weren’t as clean, but they looked a little, she thought, like stars. Twilight shivered. Not the just the highest tower, she thought, the highest moving tower.

“Are you cold?” asked the Princess.

Twilight’s teeth chattered and she fought to be heard over the wind. “Aren’t you?”

From her back, Twilight saw Princess Celestia’s horn flare briefly. 

Suddenly, although Twilight didn’t feel any warmer, the cold didn’t bother her anymore. The wind was still pounding against her face and body, but with much less discomfort, feeling more like a breeze during a hard gallop. Inhaling was no longer like trying to drink straight out of a hose and it took a few blinks, but her eyeballs no longer felt raw and abraded either.

Twilight touched a forearm to her face, experimentally. Her nose was still cold but was warming up. “If pegasi can’t cast that spell...” Twilight said, not bothering to finish the thought. She marveled at how well her voice carried now.

“They don’t need to.” Still gliding, Princess Celestia beat her wings once, sending them a little higher in the air. “It is, as you would say, ‘part of the package’.”

“Oh.” Twilight’s curiosity overcame her anger. “What happens if I fall?”

Princess Celestia sounded almost offended when she spoke. “You won’t fall.”

“Not even if I jump off?”

“Twilight Sparkle,” said the Princess. “I can use magic.”

Oh yeah. Obviously. Twilight was silent for only a moment. “Let’s say hypothetically that you decided to let me hit the ground -”

The Princess’ wings fluttered. “A hypothesis, perhaps worth some consideration.”

“If I hit the ground with this spell on me, what would happen?”

“Take care in how you phrase your questions and to whom you ask, Twilight Sparkle. There are beings who will respond demonstratively.”

It took Twilight a moment to realise what the Princess was trying to say. “Ah...” she trailed off nervously.

“There would be pain, but not nearly as much as if you weren’t spelled. This high up, about a thousand feet or so, you would probably break every bone in your body. You would almost certainly die.” After a moment of gut-wrenching silence, Princess Celestia spoke again. “You might bounce too.”

“I’m sorry.” Twilight said, fearing that any moment the Princess might drop her again. “I shouldn’t have kept asking.”

“No matter. You might find that some things, though, are better left unsaid.” Princess Celestia spilled air from her wings, pitching forward and skimming low over Canterlot. “I didn’t want to frighten you any more than I already have.”

They veered next to a large tower and Twilight felt like she could almost reach out and skim one hoof against the stone. Although it was dark, she could see ponies below, going about in their affairs. Princess Celestia and Twilight flew overhead, unnoticed.

“Why don’t they see us? Are you using magic?”

“Not at all. Unless they know something is already there, unicorns and earth ponies rarely look up.” The Princess pulled her wings a little closer and stooped through the arch of a bridge, wingtips grazing both sides. 

Twilight anticipated a crash. Time seemed to slow and her heart jackhammered in her chest. 

They rose unscathed from under the bridge, climbing again to Canterlot’s skyline. The flashy demonstration made sure that ponies in the street noticed them now. Unicorns scurried to and fro, perhaps fearing another similar stunt.

“They’re just like ants,” Twilight remarked, looking down at them.

Princess Celestia flared her wings, braking midair. Twilight vaulted forward. She struggled to stay on the Princess’ back, wrapping her forehooves around her neck to keep from falling.

“Twilight,” the Princess said, an edge in her voice. She was flapping constantly now, fighting to maintain a hover. “What did you just say?”

“That...” said Twilight, her mouth going dry in fear. She had never seen Princess Celestia like this before.“The ponies down there... they-” She saw herself in her mind, falling to the ground, breaking every bone in her body. “They look like ants...?”

“Don’t,” said the Princess, sounding full of some unnameable emotion. “Don’t say things like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Twilight said, the words becoming a squeak. She managed to rasp out, “ I won’t do it again,” before her voice failed completely. 

Twilight felt the Princess’ sides heaving gently, breathing deeply. “I apologise,” Princess Celestia said, after a pause. “I realise that what you said was out of innocence rather than malice. I didn’t mean to dredge up old memories and lose myself like that.” 

As scary as the Princess had been, she was downright restrained compared to Ms. Marie, and Twilight thought as much.

“In the past I have known ponies, great ponies, who let their hubris get the best of them.” The Princess sounded sad now. “When you hold yourself high above the world, it’s easy to lose sight of those beneath you... You can’t help but look down at those below.”

Twilight wondered what had happened, but it seemed like a touchy subject. It wouldn’t be like inquiring about magic or math... asking about this seemed wrong somehow.

“I-”

“You don’t need to express either sympathy or remorse, Twilight Sparkle. This was something that happened long ago. I should be over it.”

Twilight didn’t know what to say. She held on tighter, though, as the Princess tilted her body upwards, ascending more quickly and aerodynamically. Twilight peered over her wings and watched as Canterlot shrank underneath them, as they flew higher than the mountaintop. 

In the darkness Twilight could make out a patchwork of farmland, towns and suburbs below. It was so even and organized. Far in the distance there was a dark tangle of forest that spread chaotically on the edges of a large orchard.

Twilight felt the air grew colder and thinner, but the chill didn’t faze her anymore and every breath came easily. Deep down she knew she should feel lightheaded and dizzy. 

For a long time the only sounds were the muffled wind, the steady beat of wings and the soft sigh of breathing. 

Twilight braced herself for an impact with the clouds as they approached, but they broke against her like fog. The Princess kept flying, higher and higher until even the clouds were far below them. Eventually it was cold enough to be uncomfortable and even the thinness of the air made Twilight gasp occasionally. 

Princess Celestia stopped beating her wings, stretching them out to catch the air, straightening out and soaring miles above the ground.

Twilight looked up.



Falling off the roof had been worth it.

Twilight glimpsed a smile on the Princess’ face. “Ready to head back now, Twilight?”

Twilight nodded once before remembering that the Princess couldn’t see her, “Yeah,” she said weakly, still in awe.

Princess Celestia made an uncharacteristic whoop as she folded her wings and spun straight into a nosedive. The world smeared past in streaks of colour. 

Twilight held on for dear life, not caring that she was screaming right into the Princess’ ear. Canterlot loomed closer and closer, blotches of purple and grey becoming buildings and streets.

Suddenly the Princess opened her wings. Momentum kept Twilight going, pressing her into Princess Celestia’s back. It should have given her whiplash, but something held her in place and she felt strong, sturdy.

She looked down and saw her school. From above, the roof was shaped in a perfect replica of Princess Celestia’s cutie mark.

“Our excursion took most of the night,” said the Princess. “Safe to say, our lessons for tonight will be postponed till next week.”

The castle grew nearer. Princess Celestia landed on the rooftop where they had started that night and she lowered herself to let Twilight jump off.

Twilight waited patiently as the Princess bound her magic again. Even though the other spell probably hadn’t worn off yet, she still felt deathly cold when that first ring of negativity touched her horn. She was already growing to hate it.

“Please forgive me for throwing you off the castle earlier,” the Princess said once she was done. “Young ponies usually enjoy that kind of excitement, but it was folly for me to assume it of you without asking, especially for the sake of my own amusement.” 

“I understand,” Twilight said. She really didn’t, but she felt like she should say it anyway. What kind of crazy pony would you have to be to find it fun getting tossed off a building?

“I trust you can make your way back to the school on your own.”

Twilight nodded.

The Princess smiled mischievously. “Unless you would like a ride...”

“Oh, thank you, but I should be fine!” Twilight said, as politely as she could, but perhaps a little too quickly.

“Very well.”






(Once again, a big thank you goes to feotakahari, plen-omie, and Mystic, who have been helping me edit.)



This document was initially posted on Google Docs. There are likely some formatting issues with this chapter due to the conversion from Google Docs. The original story can be viewed here: 

http://www.equestriadaily.com/2011/11/story-darkest-before-dawn.html