//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: Darkest Before Dawn // by Sessalisk //------------------------------// Darkest Before Dawn by Sessalisk Chapter Four Magic Kindergarten Class Photo All ponies in the picture are listed are from left to right. Back row: Enigma, Demise, Ace, Rune and (the dorm parent) Ms. Teaks Warmaid. Middle Row: Twilight Sparkle, Tsunami, Nightbreaker, Gingersnap, Malachite Front Row: Pebbly Crunch, Tambourine, Somepony Else (AKA Elsie), Echelle, Belaq, Lexicus, Azure Sky (Sky) The mid-morning air was brisk as Twilight walked to class. Her winter coat was starting to grow in shaggy clumps and she felt lumpy and misshapen in her uniform. Frosty grass crunched under her hooves. The little magnetic clips made it possible to wear clothes at all, but lately, buttons would slide out of place where particularly dense clumps of fur tried to shove their way through. She had missed her parents at first, even missed her stupid old classmates, but Twilight found that the best cure for homesickness was to throw herself into her studying. The books were always willing to give any knowledge they might have as quickly or slowly as she required them to, and it was safe to say, they never judged her for it. Twilight’s lessons with the Princess had progressed very slowly over the last two and a half months. After the first month, her classmates had said things like, “hasn’t she gotten over that yet?”, or “do you think she’s just pretending?”, and then eventually they had stopped talking about it altogether. It was true, though, that she and the Princess would occasionally have nights off to stargaze, take walks, or talk about other academic subject matter ranging from physics to monsters to ancient history. Although Princess Celestia was often cryptic, she never replied to questions with anything along the lines of “I don’t know,” and at the very least, would work with Twilight to find the most plausible answer; Twilight looked forward to these nights the most. Suddenly, Twilight was forced to dodge out of the path of one of the blind, half-deaf second year students, on his way back from the field. Bumping into some of the more reckless ones (or the slower learners) was a fairly-frequent occurrence. Magic was still her favourite subject, but her lessons on control were always the same frustrating slog night in and night out: the Princess would cast that spell at her and Twilight would try to concentrate while not freaking out, and at the end she would go to bed tired and feeling helpless. She could hold on to herself for nearly ten minutes before the magic would start slipping away from her again, and then another two to three minutes of changing spells before she’d completely lose her focus. Princess Celestia told her that this was to be expected, since Twilight’s body and mind were still catching up to her abilities, but it didn’t keep the slow progress from being disappointing. Her control wasn’t nearly good enough to consider removing the binding spell, and she’d spent most of the school year magic-free. Back at her old school, she had taken it for granted that everything was tailored for young ponies of all sorts. They were never asked to use scissors and they never had to take notes for longer than maybe ten or twenty minutes. Clearly the expectations here were that everypony would use their magic to write, rather than their mouths. After most of her classes, she wasn’t able to talk or eat for hours because her teeth and jaw ached too much, and as gentle as she was with them, she’d destroyed countless quills by biting down on them just a little too hard. Sports like tag and hoofball weren’t too popular at Princess Celestia’s school, either. The other students were fond of games like bird-in-the-cage, dog’s dinner, or jackstones - unicorn games. This was something that Twilight approved of and would have gladly taken part in, had she been able to use magic herself. It was getting to be irritating how everypony around her made such a point of using spells for everything. Since the beginning of the school year, she’d never been asked to do a single thing in Magical and Physical Education. She figured she could either view it as a colossal waste of time or as a handy free study block. It always paid to look on the bright side. Anyway, Twilight thought, with more than a little bitterness, if my magic worked I could pick everypony else up and throw them off the mountain. Probably. By the time she’d gotten to class, Rune was already there waiting for her. Twilight and Rune went through the same sort of ritual day in and day out. They wouldn’t exactly greet each other, not even with a nod, but Twilight would stare at Rune, and maybe if she was lucky, Rune might look up. Twilight liked to think that she and orange filly were sort of friends. Sure they never went out of their ways to talk or hang out or be nice to each other, but Rune was never mean. A few weeks ago after a long and frustrating math class, Belaq had poured glue on Twilight and stuck a pair of paper wings on her back. “Look, Little Miss Suckup’s pretending to be the Princess!” All the other ponies had laughed, even Echelle - who was still nice to her, but in a very polite kind of way. Only Rune had stayed silent. She’d looked at Twilight with her sad green eyes and walked away. Once class was in session, Twilight realised that she shouldn’t have wished so hard to be able to do stuff. Today they were running laps. Twilight had seen the track before, but she didn’t think that anypony used it outside of sports clubs. The other students used their magic to carry weights as they galloped. Twilight ran unencumbered, but every breath she drew was like needles in her chest. Ms. Marie cantered after them with a boulder in the air. “Keep running or Boo’s gonna find out how your blood tastes!” Twilight shuddered, remembering what Ms. Marie had done with the enormous rock the day before Nightmare Night. She still had bad dreams about wickedly sharp stone spires dripping crimson. It would come down from the air and she would die again and again and again. All the while, there would be that horrible guttural laughter... She clenched her teeth and pushed herself to gallop a little faster. At the very least, Twilight was glad she wasn’t the slowest runner in the class anymore. Lexicus and Rune competed for last place. Lexicus, a light yellow colt with a book and horn for a cutie mark, was wheezing and shaking by the time he’d gotten halfway around the track. He, however, was also carrying a rock slightly bigger than himself. From the looks of it, the rock might even be the heaviest one in the class. Rune trotted slowly, only looking up occasionally. The orange filly was inexplicably deaf to Ms. Marie’s shouted threats and ran only when Lexicus had gotten ahead of her. Far ahead were Pebbly Crunch, Tsunami and Elsie. None of them were particularly good runners (compared to some of the fillies and colts at Twilight’s old school), but were the best among everypony present. Next to Twilight was a green colt named Malachite, and just a few lengths in front, Tambourine. The brown filly carried a stone that rivalled Lexicus’ in size, an impressive feat for somepony of her tiny stature. Twilight just wished that Tambourine would drop the rock on herself and break all her legs. Suddenly the ground behind Rune erupted in a shower of gravel. “Move it, Rune!” yelled the teacher, as the boulder sailed back towards her. The floor glowed for a moment and the gravel crater mended itself. “Elsewise I’m gonna make you wish you were never born!” From the other side of the track Twilight saw the orange filly actually stop running. For the first time Twilight had ever seen, Rune smiled. The long-legged filly grinned like it was the best joke she’d heard all day. Several emotions flashed across Ms. Marie’s face. Twilight wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it or not, but she thought for a moment, that the teacher looked sad. She was probably dismayed that somepony did something other than run screaming in terror for once. Rune’s expression returned to normal. Suddenly, she started galloping, leaving everypony else in the dust. Practical Application was one of the few classes where Twilight could participate fully without hurting herself; Mrs. Lonsdaleite seldom requested note-taking. This class may not have been very interesting or helpful, but it was definitely one of the most pleasant. The the next day, Mrs. Lonsdaleite asked the class what they would do if a colony of vampire bats attacked them. “Incinerate them!” Even if she didn’t recognize the voice, Twilight didn’t need to turn around to figure out who had just spoken. Sky had once proposed (hopefully as a joke) that crossing a large, bridgeless canyon could be accomplished by setting the canyon on fire until it was a lake of molten rock. Twilight had no idea why the filly’s cutie mark was a blue rectangle rather than some sort of inferno. “Actually,” said Twilight, not bothering to raise a hoof. “Princess Celestia told me that all vampires have a disorder that makes it impossible for them not to stop and count seeds that you scatter on the ground.” Mrs. Lonsdalite looked impressed. Everypony else just looked annoyed. “If you throw some hayseed, wheat kernels, or best, poppyseed at them, they should be occupied for long enough for you to escape.” “Very well done, Ms. Sparkle.” From the other corner of the room, she saw Gingersnap glaring at her. Twilight worked on square and cube roots in the shade of a large tree. With a coat this long and thick, being inside a heated building was almost unbearable. The sounds of distant conversation broke her concentration. She could make out that it was a filly speaking. “... -ould you do it?” Then a different voice, slightly louder... they were getting closer. “I read all about it, Tammy. You just need to align the pins and use something to provide torque.” A third voice this time, laughing. It sounded like... Belaq. “That’s probably like saying all gardening requires is going in and doing stuff to plants.” “Aw, shut up,” said the second voice. “I know what I’m doing.” Math homework abandoned, Twilight peeked from behind the tree’s trunk. Oh horse apples. It was Tambourine, Gingersnap and Belaq and they were walking her way. Mercifully, they hadn’t seen her yet. Twilight looked around for any way she could escape, but there was nothing for her to hide behind or hide in. If she wanted to get back into the school she’d have to run past them. It just had to be these three... They came closer. “I wonder if she’s got fancy things from the palace in there,” said the voice that must have been Tambourine. Twilight rarely heard Tambourine say anything in class, but the brown filly made up for it by being incessantly cruel to Twilight whenever she could, especially if either of her friends were around. She heard Belaq speak next, “More like a thousand costumes of Princess Celestia.” Somepony snorted with laughter. “I bet all the time she spends up there she’s dressing up as the Princess and making goo-goo eyes at herself,” Belaq said in a sneering kind of tone, growing louder as they approached. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” said Gingersnap in her know-it-all voice. “She still plays with dolls.” It took a while for it to click, for Twilight to realise they were talking about her. “Wait,” said Tambourine, “how are we supposed to get in there if she’s always in there too?” Wonderful. Just wonderful. Now on top of having to get away from them, she’d have to keep them from breaking into her room as well. “Ooo! I know!” said Gingersnap, sounding very much like how Twilight knew her to be during class. “We could invoke Truancy!” Any student at the school had the right to skip out on lessons as long they handed in all their assignments before the start of the lesson, weren’t missing a test and gave at least a day’s notice. Twilight remembered reading about it in a footnote on page 854 of the student’s handbook in the library, and she listened fearfully as Gingersnap explained it to the other two. “That’s cool,” Belaq said dismissively, “but kind of a dumb plan.” The crispy sound of hoofsteps on grass stopped. The fillies were right on the other side of the tree. Twilight hoped they couldn’t hear her heart pounding in her chest. “What? No it’s n-” Belaq cut her off. “If even one of us doesn’t show up for class it’s going to be obvious that it was us.” “I thought it was a pretty good idea, Ginger, but... uh...” Tambourine said in a quiet voice that Twilight had to strain her ears to hear, “You’re right too, Belaq. I don’t want to get in trouble...” Toadying sycophant, Twilight thought, and in her head, called all three of them the worst names she knew. Conceited tyrannical presumptuous know-it-all, worthless prattling... There was a “humph” sound. “I know,” said Belaq in a bossy voice. “How about we go in when everypony’s sleeping? You can Quiet, right Ginger?” “Pfft. In my sleep.” Twilight listened as they schemed. Her muscles were cramping, but she didn’t dare move or shift - the grass, her clothes, something might rustle. What was more difficult was making sure to breathe only out of her nose, slowly, regularly and softly. There could be no gasps, sighs or sudden intakes of breath. More than one storybook character had accidentally revealed his or her hiding spot by breathing too loudly. The three fillies eventually decided that the best time was three hours past midnight. Gingersnap couldn’t enchant more than one pony at a time and eager to prove herself, agreed to go in alone. After they had all this figured out, Twilight had to sit there until lunch was almost over, listening to them talk about books, homework, test scores and all sorts of interesting things that she would have normally found wonderful to talk about, had they not been huge jerks and had she been a part of the conversation. They sauntered away, still talking, oblivious to Twilight who was just a few feet from where they’d been. When they were finally too far away to hear anymore, Twilight crawled out from behind the tree. If they had walked any further, if they looked behind the tree’s trunk... She had been as lucky as an earth pony, she thought. Her cutie mark could be a shoe. It could be a clover. Twilight shook out the cramps and the pins and needles feelings in her legs and crept back into the school. For the rest of the day, she thought about what would happen later that night and weighed her options. Twilight could hardly think of anything else in Jazz’s class, even though (in anticipation of the upcoming exams) her classmates were asking all the right questions, and thus, Jazz was giving a -sort of- proper lecture. They might have been annoying and boring, but the ponies at her old school had thankfully never given her trouble like this before. She’d read a lot of stories about it, though, and hopefully with them she’d be able to find a solution. In her books it would always go in one of several ways: In some stories, despite being small, nonathletic and maybe even outnumbered, the hero would defeat her pursuers and prove that she had some sort of hidden power all along. Twilight knew she did have one of those, but unless Belaq, Gingersnap and Tambourine (against all common sense) tried to sneak attack her at the royal palace on the weekend (which they already weren’t going to do), there would be no way she could magic her way out of this one. In other stories, the hero would get picked on for a while before learning that she could tell a trustworthy grownup and then somehow, everything would be fixed and nothing bad would ever happen again. This didn’t seem very realistic to Twilight. One of the unwritten rules of every schoolyard was that no matter how valid or serious the issue, telling on another student would make you the dreaded tattletale, the snitch. She knew she was unpopular already, and having one more mark against her couldn’t really hurt, but still. Nothing had happened yet and nothing would be stopping them from redoubling their efforts in different and inventive ways that grownups couldn’t pin on them. If there was anything that had really been hammered into Twilight’s head it was that although you had the occasional filly or colt who’d gotten in with money or good study habits, the rest had minds like razorblades, ones that they could easily cut you with if you weren’t careful. Sometimes in books it would turn out that the mean ponies had a bad life at home. Their parents would be angry and hit them, which made them do these things to other ponies in turn. If this was the case, Twilight would certainly feel bad for them, but it wouldn’t change the fact that she would be getting picked on too. In her stories the hero would fix things at their homes and solve their differences and everypony would go off and be friends. Twilight really couldn’t see this happening - ever. Finally, just once, Twilight had read a story that was very different from all the others. It was in the juvenile fiction section and all of the characters were kids, but it didn’t seem to be the same as all the other adventure stories for young ponies. The hero... if you could call him that, had done cruel, ruthless things to his tormentors, things that had really hurt them and made everypony afraid of him. Twilight knew she’d thought nasty things towards the other ponies; she’d called them horrible names in her head and wished for terrible and unlikely things to happen to them. Still, she didn’t know if it was the same as hurting them on purpose, and she knew all too well what it was like for everypony else to be afraid of her... Why does this have to be so complicated? Twilight slumped in her seat. Why couldn’t she just say some magic words and then nopony would be enemies anymore? Twilight stood inside her room and stared straight at the door leading out. “Excuse me, Mister-slash-Miss-slash-genderless honorific Door,” she said. In fairytales, being polite and thoughtful could get you very far. Even inanimate objects would bend over backwards to help a pony who treated them courteously. Nothing visible or audible happened. “Doors, there are these ponies who are going to try to open-” The door swung ajar as soon as she said that last word, and she had to push it shut again. Maybe she had to phrase it precisely in a way that didn’t use the words “door”, “open” or “close”? “Doors, if you could not, under any circumstances, allow these three fillies into the room I would be really appreciative.” Twilight started describing them. The door made no response. “If you can understand me, please give some sort of sign.” Still nothing. Twilight sighed. Back to the drawing board. The moon rose full and brilliant that night, but Twilight’s curtains were shut, blocking out any light. All the little moon sigils in Twilight’s room were at the lowest setting as she lay there thinking, waiting and dreading. Twilight wondered if maybe this was a mind game, maybe they had set the whole thing up so that she would overhear and that she would lose a night’s sleep from pointless worry. She wouldn’t put it past them. How would they even know what room she was in? Maybe it would be tomorrow night instead? next week? a month, even? Maybe it would never happen at all. Still, she waited. What else could she do? She hadn’t even started on the day’s homework, and yet she waited. The clock on her nightstand ticked, eight minutes until three. Tick - tock - tick... Twilight saw the handle of her doorknob turn. There was no noise as the door slid open. Faint light spilled in through the crack. In this dimness, she couldn’t see the colour of the hoof that stepped through, but Twilight imagined it was red. The filly’s horn gave off a sickly glow that painted her face in shades of grey. The hairstyle confirmed that it was Gingersnap. The filly’s hoof hit a book as she walked in, but was unnaturally silent as she did so, not making the slightest scuffle or thud. There were books strewn all over the floor, looking like they had been thrown or knocked over. Gingersnap glanced at the empty bed, then looked around in apparent confusion. Her mouth moved soundlessly and she bent down to look under the bed, only to find cobwebs and dust. Just have to angle it 67°... Suddenly there was a hissing noise. The filly’s eyes widened. Her mouth moved some more, once again, giving off no sounds. She backed up against a wardrobe. A shadowy shape moved in the far corner of the room, something without the obvious glow of unicorn magic The filly’s horn flared, sending a bright beam of light where the thing had moved. There was nothing but scattered clothing. She bucked open the door to the bathroom, looking like she was fighting to keep herself under control It was empty. Panicked, the filly spun around, flashing light into every corner of the room. She could see now, the sanguine liquid splattered all over the walls. There was a uniform in the corner, torn and soaked with red. SLAM! Dark and unlit by any horn, the door shut behind her. The filly opened her mouth wide in a mute scream. She pounded on the door with her hooves that made no sounds. Finally she remembered herself, pulled at the door with her magic and nearly tripped as she galloped out as fast as she could. Half an hour passed. An hour. Nopony came back. Eventually, when Twilight was sure she’d be left alone, she threw off the uniforms draped over her body and carefully lowered herself down from the top of the wardrobe. It creaked dangerously, but thankfully, didn’t tip. Hiding on ceilings was clearly a cliché for a reason - like the Princess had said, unicorns and earth ponies never looked up. Twilight picked up the wad of clothes in the corner, the ones she’d tossed from the top of the dresser. The books she’d use to climb - the ones she had to kick down to conceal her hiding place - those went back on the shelves at random; Twilight vowed to sort them out properly in the morning. Finally, Twilight used a damp towel to wipe the mixture of rust, paint and table salt off the walls. The very highest stains she couldn’t reach without the aid of magic or a chair. Tomorrow, she said to herself again. She looked sadly at the vest on the floor. Dad wouldn’t be very happy about that, but it had been a necessary sacrifice. She remembered how careful she had to be to make sure not to make a mess on the carpet. The whole thing had been strange. She’d come out as the clear winner and didn’t have to hurt anypony, but Twilight hadn’t learned any valuable life lessons and she wasn’t any closer to being friends with Gingersnap or any of the others. She had expected it to be something she could jump around and celebrate, but after it had happened, she wasn’t sure this something it was okay to be proud of. After an hour when she was done cleaning, when it was getting so late that it was getting early, Twilight climbed into bed, exhausted, and fell fast asleep. Gingersnap’s eyes widened in shock when Twilight walked into class the next day. Her red and gold mane was in disarray and although her eyelids drooped occasionally, she held herself in an alert posture. She was clutching, for some odd reason, a burnt loaf of bread. It was obvious to Twilight, that the filly hadn’t slept a wink the entire night. Belaq rolled her eyes as Gingersnap darted to the very back of the class. Twilight watched as Tambourine glanced back and forth between the two of them, looking like she was debating whether she should follow. “Hengstwolf,” she heard Gingersnap hiss. Huh. That’s not what she had been going for, but thinking back though, it had been a full moon last night. Twilight sat down in her usual seat, trying to seem like she had no idea what the crimson filly was talking about. Two things happened at once. Just then, Mr. Yorsets walked into the room, and at the very same time, Gingersnap beaned Twilight in the back of the head with the bread she’d been holding. “Children!” Mr. Yorsets said, “What is going on in here!” “She’s a hengstwolf!” Gingersnap said, sounding like she was on the verge of breaking into hysteria. “I-She-Last night sh- Look in her room!” “Miss Gingersnap, you have always been a good student and I will look this over, just this once, but it’s shameful to waste food and if you’re going to play silly pretend games, please do so on your own time.” “It’s not wasting,” Gingersnap insisted. “And it’s not pretend either. Hengstwolves are vulnerable to rye and ash.” She pointed to Twilight who was massaging a bruise below her left ear. That loaf had been hard. “Look at her! She was weakened by it!” “Um,” said Twilight. “I think ash means from an ash tree, not things that are burnt.” “See! She knows her own vulnerabilities!” Mr. Yorsets raised an eyebrow. “I understand that the end of a semester can be stressful-” “But-but-” Gingersnap looked about to cry. “And it seems to me like you aren’t getting enough sleep. Perhaps a visit to the school nurse might be in order?” Twilight picked the loaf of bread off the ground with her teeth and placed it right in front of her on her desk. She looked right at Gingersnap and gave her a bright smile. Gingersnap ran out of the class, sobbing. Sighing, Mr. Yorsets shook his head and went after her. As soon as he was gone, Belaq turned to Twilight and growled. “I don’t know what you did, suckup, but you’d better watch your back from now on.” Twilight gave her a smug, self-satisfied grin. “Maybe it’s you who should watch yours.” She bared her teeth, then threw her head back. “Awoooo!” A couple of ponies stared at Twilight. Belaq looked like she was about to hit her, but the teacher walked back into the classroom before she had the chance. He was alone. “Back to your seats, students,” he said, and began the lesson. Twilight avoided the trio for the next couple of days. On the weekend when the Princess asked her if anything interesting had happened that week, Twilight couldn’t find it in herself to conceal the truth. She, in all honesty, wanted to tell somepony about the things she’d done. After all, she thought, what’s the point of winning if the only pony who ever knows about it is yourself? She recounted the events dramatically, relishing the points where she’d gotten the upper hoof, much more than she had in the immediate aftermath. Twilight was so absorbed in her own story that she didn’t even notice how Princess Celestia hadn’t laughed once during the retelling, only listening with a concerned look on her face. “That was not the best way to handle the situation, Twilight Sparkle.” Twilight was dismayed. “How? I taught them all a lesson, didn’t I?” Her plan had gone off without a hitch. “True as that may be, it wasn’t the correct lesson.” Princess Celestia looked grim. “Those fillies only pick on you, correct? Nopony else?” “Yeah, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything...” “Perhaps you are their favourite target and they will decide to start bullying somepony else once you’re out of the picture. Perhaps they are just bad ponies.” That sounded about right. “To me, however, it sounds like they felt threatened by you.” “By me?” Twilight shook her head. “I can’t even use magic.” “The fillies in your classes should be your peers. By not socialising with them, you either mark yourself as a pariah or somepony of a much higher standing.” “Oh.” Twilight didn’t fully understand, but the more she said this night, the stupider she felt. “So what should I do?” “Whatever your heart tells you to.” Twilight barely held back an irritated groan. Her heart was telling her to fly into a rage at the completely unhelpful non-answer. The Princess winked. “Then again, that’s pretty awful advice if you ask me.” “Thank you,” Twilight said, grateful that the Princess hadn’t been serious. She would have to get everypony alone. The Princess had explained to her, why it wouldn’t be a good idea to talk to them all at once. It would be a pain, though, because she didn’t have any classes with just Belaq, Gingersnap was avoiding her, and the only class she had alone with Tambourine was, well... She flagged down the brown filly after another brutal track session. It didn’t seem possible, but after running, Tambourine’s mane was even messier than usual. “What.” She seemed confused at the fact Twilight had approached her at all. Twilight fought for breath and against the urge to shrink off somewhere. “I just want to talk,” she said, panting. “That’s all.” The filly gave her a contemptuous look. “Talk to yourself then.” She huffed and continued trotting away. “But wait,” Twilight called after her. “This is important!” “Fine,” Tambourine said. “This had better be good, you friendless little runt.” Little? Runt! Twilight screamed mentally, you’re smaller than me! She put on her best poker face and remembered Princess Celestia’s words, in her thoughts, abridging long explanations into simple instructions. Don’t be condescending. Don’t make them feel stupid. Don’t make it sound like you’re doing them a favour... That was a lot of “don’t”s. Twilight took a deep breath. “I think, uh.” She reached for some words she remembered from a novel. “I think that your actions have been hurting me more than you realise and, um, if you would just take a moment to see things from my perspective then perhaps you might see that we’re not so different after all?” Tambourine stared for a moment and then broke out into laughter. So much for that... After a while she stopped and looked at Twilight casually. “Listen, do you know what bathos is?” Twilight did, but she didn’t get the chance to answer. “It’s when something happens in something dramatic or tragic that is unintentionally funny.” She had no idea what this had to do with anything, but she knew if she interrupted, Tambourine would probably stop talking and leave, so she just nodded. “So picture me, a teeny tiny filly- You still are. “and I read all these books with kid heroes that can beat up dragons and win the girl and do whatever they want, and then they go back to school and somepony comes along and starts picking on them. “‘Oh no,’ they say, ‘even though I beat the stuffing out of a fire-breathing lizard three thousand times my size, there’s no way I can fight a bully who doesn’t have any magic or superpowers at all.’ “So then they go and talk to the bully and find out they’re all tragic and troubled and then give them that exact same speech you just gave me. The one that never works in real life, when somepony else has all the firepower - but then it actually does. “Now tell me that’s not bathos.” Twilight didn’t know what to say, but after a while, things started to slide into place. “You... you were picked on before too, weren’t you.” “Congratulations,” said Tambourine. “Would you like a medal?” Twilight shook her head in disbelief. “But then... why?” “You’re the world’s most entitled pipsqueak, that’s why.” Why does she keep trying to make fun of my size? “No...” said Twilight, trying to clarify, “if you know what it’s like to be teased and made fun of, why are you doing it too?” “Because,” said the brown filly, sounding like she was stating the blindingly obvious, “you can’t be at the bottom if somepony else is there instead.” “But... That’s just mean!” The filly shrugged. “Lots of stuff is mean, kid. Deal with it.” Twilight lost her temper. “Don’t call me a kid,” she said. “You’re smaller than me! You don’t even have your cutie mark yet! You’re the kid!” A wind started to pick up, dead leaves taking flight. The smaller filly breathed heavily and her eyes glowed. “I’m not a kid!” All four of Twilight’s hooves lifted off the grass and she was incredibly, frighteningly, light. The sky tilted and spun while the air shimmered faintly around her. She searched automatically for something she could use to hit Tambourine with; if she could hit her with something, if she could break her concentration, the spell would stop before anything really dangerous happened. Her thoughts exploded into brightly-coloured slivers of light as she tried to lift a rock with the magic that she forgot she didn’t have. Twilight closed her eyes, pulled her hooves in towards herself and prepared for a painful impact. And then nothing. She tumbled to the earth, headfirst, and not at all gently, but it hadn’t been the throw or slam she’d been expecting. For some reason she didn’t understand, she had been let go. Tambourine was shaking. She wasn’t crying, but it looked like she was trying very hard not to. She looked drained from the heavy duty magic. “I’m sorry,” Twilight said. The filly didn’t look at her. “Just go.” Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but then thought better of it. She walked away quietly, leaving the brown filly alone on the grass. That could have gone better... Gingersnap avoided Twilight with an almost religious fervor. She’d left Twilight alone since the night she’d broken into her room. Twilight was content with this arrangement, but Princess Celestia had insisted that they settle things between themselves. It was frustrating. “Come on, Gingersnap,” Twilight yelled down the hallway. “Quit running!” After waiting almost half a week for a good opportunity to catch the filly by herself, Twilight had realised that it would never happen unless she took some initiative. “I only want to talk to you!” Gingersnap’s hooves pounded loudly on the floor as she galloped away. “Leave me alone!” She darted down the central staircase and out of Twilight’s sight. “Also don’t run down the stairs,” Twilight called out, feeling a little queasy at the thought. “You might fall and break your neck!” There was no response, but Twilight went after her anyway, following the echoing hoofsteps and the lingering scent of fear. She cornered her in the second storey bathroom. Twilight tried not to be intimidating or scary, not sure how she could look either of those in the first place. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you...” “Go away!” Gingersnap had shut herself in a stall and clearly wasn’t coming out until it was obvious Twilight was gone. “Could we just talk then?” Twilight said patiently, not wanting to repeat what happened with Tambourine. “You can stay in there.” Gingersnap’s voice trembled. “What do you want from me?” “I just want to say sorry for how I acted the other day... and for scaring you.” Twilight sat down on the tiled floor outside the stall, expecting that she’d be there for some time. “I was just hoping that we could forget about that stuff and start fresh.” “What are you?” “An ordinary unicorn just like you,” she said evenly. “I knew you were coming that night and you didn’t leave me much choice but to do something about it.” “But... what was all that stuff then? the blood on the walls, the weird noises coming from everywhere, the things moving without magic...” Twilight gently explained everything that had happened, that the original intention was to make the room seem haunted so they wouldn’t try anything like that again. This was what the Princess thought was best, but Twilight quietly mourned the loss of the few unknown advantages she had against these fillies. After she was done, they both stayed there on their respective sides of the door, not saying anything for a long time. “I really hate you, you know that?” Gingersnap said at last. “I didn’t mean t-” “No,” the crimson filly said, cutting her off. “Don’t get me wrong. The execution was perfect. I learned to Quiet maybe a week after I learned how to read, and I had no idea that sound distorted on the edges of the field like that.” “Uh,” Twilight said stupidly, not knowing what else to say. “We’re good on two conditions,” said Gingersnap. “First of all, you don’t put up your hoof in class until at least five seconds after I do.” There was a click as the stall door unlocked. “Secondly, you don’t let anypony know what just transpired, either today or the other night.” She opened the stall with her magic and stepped out. “This never happened and that never happened.” Her voice was businesslike and her expression was dead serious. “If somepony asks, we were playing some sort of game. Got it?” “Yeah,” Twilight said meekly, a little perturbed at how quickly Gingersnap had regained her composure, “got it.” “Good.” She watched as Gingersnap marched brusquely out the door. It swung back and forth, creaking. The only pony left to talk to was Belaq. She seemed like the leader of the three fillies and Twilight had thought it would be best to see her last. Neither Tambourine or Gingersnap had bothered her since she’d spoken to them, and Belaq, frustrated by the lack of support, had picked up the slack and tried to fill in the shoes both of them had left behind. There wasn’t a single class with her that didn’t include some sort of cruel magical prank while the teacher’s back was turned. “Okay,” Twilight said once Notation, Reading and Casting was over. After the stunt Belaq had just pulled, she was going to be finding bits of glitter in her mane for months. “We need to talk.” Belaq didn’t look back as she walked away. “Oh, do we? Are you going to make me stop being friends with myself now too?” “That’s not what I’m trying to do.” Twilight cantered to keep up. “I just want to be left alone.” The amber filly stopped in her tracks. “Oh yeah?” There was a thick layer of disdain in her voice. “You didn’t need to make them leave me alone too.” They’re not friends anymore? “I wasn’t trying to make them do that.” Twilight pawed at the ground. “I just wanted to make things okay between us.” “Well now things aren’t okay between us.” Twilight tried to pick up a different tack, remembering that she’d occasionally seen her classmate carrying around adventure or horror novels. “Just think of how you’ve been acting,” she said. “You’re like the villain of a book, picking on somepony weaker who’s never done anything to you.” Belaq snorted. “Oh come on,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not Tammy. I’m not gonna cry just because you’re drawing parallels to books I like.” “How did you find out about that?” “We still talk, you know,” the filly said. “You didn’t screw things up that much.” “Well, what can I do to fix this then?” asked Twilight, hoping it wouldn’t be something like thirty bits a day and a hundred push-ups every morning. “Leave.” There wasn’t a trace of humour in Belaq’s eyes. “Go find another school or go live with your fancy princess and leave us alone.” “But...” Twilight shook her head. “That’s totally unreasonable!” “Those are my demands and I’m sticking to them.” “Even if I leave,” Twilight pointed out as logically as she could, “it doesn’t mean that everything will be the same again between you three. It just means I won’t be here.” “One obstacle out of the way.” “But even if you didn’t offer to let up on me, if I left, you wouldn’t have a choice anyway.” “You really aren’t very bright, are you?” Belaq said, tossing her mane. “I never said I would leave you alone you if you left. You just asked what you could ‘do to fix this’.” Ugh, we’re playing this game then. Twilight hated it when the other kids here made a point of using exact wording. They would use it to weasel their way out of anything. She constructed a sentence in her head, laboriously making sure that there was no room for misinterpretation. “Okay,” said Twilight finally. “What actions could I take to ensure that you and those influenced by you, directly and indirectly, will no longer harass me or cause me harm in any way?” Belaq grinned slyly. “Well I can’t speak for those influenced by me indirectly...” “No,” said Twilight. “You are not going to loophole out of that phrasing, put a nest of mongooses outside of my room and claim it to be indirect influence when they attack me in the middle of the night! or... anything else like that!” “No mongooses.” the filly said with a nod. “No mongooses, alligators, chickens, anything under the general blanket of harassment or harm.” “Well,” said Belaq, sticking out her tongue. “You could start by finding another school...” Twilight put a hoof over her face. This was going nowhere. “I can’t reason with you, can I?” Twilight said with an exasperated groan, then under her breath but just loud enough to hear, “I’ll just have Princess Celestia send an assassin...” “What?” “Oh, I just said I can’t reason with you.” “No, that last thing.” “Can I?” She knew that the Princess wouldn’t approve, but after that last stunt, she wasn’t going to give up this chance to get Belaq’s goat. “No, after that.” “Oh,” Twilight said innocently. “You heard that?” Belaq narrowed her eyes. “Princess Celestia doesn’t have assassins!” Let them come to their own conclusions, the Princess had said. The end result will be much more effective. Clear the way, but don’t pull their reins down the path. Ideas and doubt can be sown by strangers, but only thrive when tended by their owners. Whatever that meant. “Yeah, you’re right. I just let my imagination run away with me sometimes.” Twilight gave a purposefully awkward smile. “I’m gonna go now.” “Wait!” Belaq called to her. “Don’t assassinate me!” Twilight kept walking. Wow, is it really this easy? “I’ll be good! I promise!” The Princess is a genius. Belaq left her alone for the rest of the semester. (Once again, a big thank you goes to feotakahari, plen-omie, and Mystic, who have been helping me edit. And anyone who says that digital is easier and faster than real media needs to have a pencil thrown at them.) Author’s Note: I figure I might as well try doing those header thingies from now on. Fun fact: I’m using GIMP 2 and a mouse to make these drawings (which has no easy way that I know of to make clean lines) and the drawing at the top of the doc took longer to do than every other image in the story to date. Combined. Someone kill me now. All the games I listed are real. For anyone who’s interested: bird-in-the-cage (Kagome Kagome) is sort of a cross between musical chairs and a guessing game and dog’s dinner involves putting on clothes and eating chocolate with a knife and fork. This document was initially posted on Google Docs. There are a couple of formatting issues due to FIMFiction's font size restrictions and stuff. The original story can be viewed here: http://www.equestriadaily.com/2011/11/story-darkest-before-dawn.html