//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 – Royal Purple, Shocking Pink // Story: Autonomous Reflection // by Crystalline HP //------------------------------// Spike sighed happily after spotting Simultaneous Spell Casting filed under T. His trusty stepladder was the one for this job. Climbing it posed the regular problem of wobbling all over the place, although by now that precariousness had actually become an endearing factor about his work. He stretched carefully at the top, delicately grasped the book between his claws and removed it from its wrong chronology. These were thousands of pages that didn’t even belong in this section; for some reason Twilight had shoved it within Equestrian History. Now came his favourite part: the Ladder Shuffle. Spike positioned the book under his chin so that the only things keeping the huge text from crashing to the floor were his rounded stomach and the underside of his face. Both hands now grasping the top of the ladder, he leapt sideways again and again with bouts of giddy laughter that threatened to dislodge the book from between his body parts. He made it to Casting Techniques without incident and savoured replacing the tome correctly under S. Spike jumped straight to the ground and admired his handiwork before sighing happily again. He loved doing Twilight’s chores. There was nothing more satisfying than feeling his best friend’s cuddles and hearing her praises after an honest day’s work. He cooked, cleaned, and maintained the library for her. He supported her and he loved her. In return she housed him, mothered him and always found time to spend with him. She supported him and she loved him. Life was good as Princess Twilight’s number one assistant. Being Rarity’s little Spikey-Wikey helped too, of course. Spike smiled. “Well, better go wash these dishes,” he said, half to himself, half to the recently dinner-laden plates which Twilight had polished off in record time before hastily complimenting his egg-scrambling skills and forgetting to shut the front door on her way out. Off to Quills & Sofas to buy her weight in feathers again, no doubt. Old habits certainly died hard with the new alicorn. By now it was common knowledge that Celestia had long been subtly training Twilight for her new role as Princess. Already with such an esteemed reputation throughout Equestria, now bolstered further due to Celestia hoof-picking her for royalty, Twilight could do virtually anything she wanted. Yet the lure of power and influence did not tempt her, as she chose to remain in the same old library in the same old Ponyville, still preferring to devour any book her frighteningly intelligent eyes hadn’t set upon rather than plunge into the role and try to win the population’s heart. Abnormal thirsts for knowledge aside, Spike liked to think he understood why Twilight insisted on leading a relatively peaceful life here. True, near enough anypony could figure out that her modest demeanour was not the ideal basis upon which a pony could grow into the greatest socialite who had ever lived, but there was more to it than just nerves. Spike was sure that the real reasons for her hesitance of moving forward did not stem from the looming responsibilities of tasks ahead, but rather from a fear of leaving so many things behind. Despite hailing from Canterlot, Ponyville was her—no, their true home. The greatest group of friends anypony could ever want had been waiting right here for them, and they were all still blooming from each other’s experiences and friendship. It was simple, and it was fun. It was home. Now in the kitchen, a dull pang of craving for ice cream prodded at the young dragon’s mind as he filled the sink with water.  Spike ignored it. He had long since learned not to give in to his subconscious so easily; the seemingly harmless action of chomping on an innocent snack might only serve as the first step down an extremely slippery slope, at the bottom of which awaited a destroyed Ponyville. This dark memory was why he never ate without Twilight or at least one of her close friends around anymore. Ugh… Not that again. I’ve felt guilty enough about kidnapping Rarity to last me even my unfairly long lifetime. She’s forgiven me, anyway. I think. I hope so. Gah! Come on, Spike, something happy, something happy… Uh… Aha! He and Twilight planned to embark on their monthly stargazing session tomorrow. Despite the fact that he found observing constellations about as fun as what it physically entailed – staring at specks of light for hours at a time through an uncomfortable eyehole – those nights were rare chances for him to show off his smorgasbord of skills in all but a few hours. Namely, preparing sandwiches and cupcakes to bring so Twilight could eat at her leisure; recording notes and sketching lines on a map for her with meticulous accuracy; listening to her essays of background information and making appropriate comments when he wasn’t actually interested; it was hard work, but he would do anything for Twilight.  The sparkling jewel he always received for his efforts didn’t hurt either. Spike’s attention towards the dishes continued to dwindle, his mind wandering as he deliberated whether the lilac mare would feel more assured if he made a checklist to check that the last checklist’s checks regarding checks on her telescope were all double-checked. Thanks to being lost in this near-unfathomable train of thought, Spike jumped out of his scales when an almighty crash ripped through the library. He cried out once in surprise, then again when the plate he’d been holding slipped from his grip before finally releasing the loudest one of all after helplessly watching it smash into hundreds of irreparable pieces on the floor. “Oh, for...!” The kitchen was the only place in the library where no trace of the tree’s rough but natural surface remained, instead being smothered as it was by slippery tiling. A dull, claustrophobic shade of green dominated, which Spike remembered Rarity once describing as “old dragon vomit.” After having a good laugh at the white unicorn’s uncharacteristic crudeness, Twilight had reasoned that the room was otherwise a massive fire hazard. Her caution was well-founded, but it was of little consolation to Spike when the reduced risk of setting things alight was merely substituted for a hugely increased chance of accidentally trashing the place. Deciding to pass off the noise as Rainbow Dash not looking where she was going during a routine stunt session, Spike mumbled grumpily to himself in his search for a broom. “Been six weeks since I last broke something... Had a record going. Wasn’t even my fault! Stupid rainbow pegasus…”   “Oh, is Dashie here too?” A flash of pink and the unmistakable pitch of voice very quickly told Spike the identity of his new visitor, but it didn’t stop him from automatically uttering a fourth yell of fright. He recovered and puffed a relieved sigh before repeatedly poking the face of Equestria’s biggest partygoer. “Geez, Pinkie, don’t scare me like that. What are you doing here?” Pinkie Pie appeared not to be listening, instead taking more of an interest in the remains of the plate he had dropped. “Were you playing Squish the Dish? I love that game!” Sweeping up a recently washed plate he had left out to dry, Pinkie wasted no time in smashing it over her head. “Pinkie!” It was a cry of worry before annoyance, something which subconsciously pleased the dragon, but his concern rapidly evaporated after he heard the tell-tale sound of the element she represented. True to form, the unscathed pony was giggling with joy at the mess she’d made. “Pinkie, stop! Now I’ve got even more to sweep up.” He made it to the broom a minute later than planned and snatched it up irritably. Pinkie’s face fell as she seemed to realise Spike hadn’t been playing Squish the Dish at all. “Oh… I’m sorry, Spike.” Then that trademark, inane smile plastered her face with optimism. “Here, I’ll do it. You go and handle the door.” The earth pony took the broom between her teeth and set about madly sailing from one side of the kitchen to the other, somehow not stepping on any sharp leftovers while also brushing them everywhere in a very random fashion. Her method was unorthodox, to say the least, but this was hardly surprising. Spike decided to leave her to it. His previously ignored question about the reason for her visit rose to the dragon’s throat again, but then got stuck. “Hang on. What do you mean, I should go and handle the door? What door?” “De fwunt wun,” came her broom-afflicted response. Spike blinked twice, leading to Pinkie Pie rolling her eyes and jabbing a hoof in the direction of the library’s main entrance room. “De fwunt wun!” she repeated, as though saying exactly the same thing would bring clarity. With a shake of the head, Spike jogged out of the kitchen and into the main room where he had been reorganising books earlier. He froze. “Crud.” In hindsight, it was very obvious that Pinkie had been trying to say “The front one.” Unfortunately, this description was no longer accurate because the door wasn’t actually attached to the wall anymore, currently acting as more of a block of wood lying in the middle of the room rather than an entrance. Spike’s disbelief that Pinkie Pie, even considering her normally inexplicable feats, could blast a door from its hinges unaided was quickly explained by the presence of her Party Cannon erected proudly outside, ten feet from the arching hole in the wall. A cannonball so colourful it was painful to look at rocked casually in a corner. Confetti draped over every surface imaginable. Books strewn everywhere. Twilight bound to be back soon. This isn’t good… Spike wanted to march into the kitchen and throttle the pink pony, but every second he spent demanding why she had felt the need to make such an entrance was a second wasted when Twilight would surely disown him if she returned to this disaster. He had just turned and taken the first step back towards the kitchen, intending to grudgingly enlist Pinkie’s help in cleaning, when he stopped dead. His ears had picked up on a voice he usually loved hearing. It was a voice that filled him with safety and warmth. But he didn’t want to hear it today. Not now. “Spike!” came her call from outside. “I’m home! Why is Pinkie’s big cannon thing out here?” Spike briefly thought about legging it and leaving Pinkie to quite literally pick up the pieces, but his brain wasn’t cooperating with his limbs. He would never make it anyway. Twilight Sparkle trotted an upbeat rhythm into the library, the spoils of her trip magically levitating a few hoof lengths ahead of her. She opened her mouth as if to speak again, but nothing managed to come out. Her face twisted in confusion; Spike guessed this was a realisation that she had not encountered a door, something that would have made him laugh under any other circumstances. Too bad that so much as smirking would be suicide. Oh, Celestia save me, she’s getting that murderous look...! He actually heard Twilight’s teeth grind. Her breathing became unsteady and a few seconds later, her gaze inevitably fixed on him. She walked with the hooves of a mouse but the aura of a storm towards him, not hesitating to step on fallen books. Her piercing eyes and almost slow-motion approach paralysed him with fear as she loomed over him, rooting him to the spot with two oceans of blazing purple. “T-Twi…I can expl—” “Where is she?” the alicorn hissed. Just happy that the first three words out of her mouth had not been, “Get out forever,” Spike regained control of his muscles and pointed nervously in the direction of the kitchen. Twilight walked away without another word. No sooner was she out of sight when he heard Pinkie greet Twilight as though they had bumped into each other during a leisurely walk. The lilac mare said something Spike couldn’t make out, before Pinkie replied, “I’m helping Spike clean up the mess we made together. It was great fun! Do you wanna—wait! That tickles!” She was still giggling madly when she floated back into the room with a purple glow surrounding her entire body. After re-entering behind Pinkie, Twilight at least had the decency to set her down gently, a sign which Spike hoped to mean that she wasn’t about to go as insane as the time she forgot to write to Princess Celestia. Hoping to appease her early, Spike hurried forward and hugged Twilight’s left foreleg. “I missed you.” Her glare did not falter. Spike felt a trickle of sweat roll down his face. “Y’know, I had nothing to do with this. I only dropped a plate because Pinkie’s massive cannon explosion did the rest.” Still no change graced him. “You gotta believe me, Twilight! Uh… Did I say I missed you?" To his immense surprise, a small smile slowly spread across her face as she returned the hug and shielded him protectively with a wing. “I know you didn’t do this, Spike. You never would.” She turned back to Pinkie, who appeared to have grown bored of conversation and was now looking dubiously at a book called The Wonders of Pi. “Some ponies really need to learn how to spell,” she quipped. Any remaining tension in the room deflated as alicorn and dragon laughed together. Twilight’s horn shimmered, taking the book away from an indifferent Pinkie to deposit it on a splintered shelf. “So, what do I owe this pleasure, Pinkie? Any particular reason you've decided to blow apart the library today?" “Well, duh. I’m throwing a party, silly!” Twilight frowned. “And it never occurred to you to inform the hosts in advance?” “Nope!” The Princess’s left eye twitched. Not wanting to risk his best friend swinging into a scary mood again, Spike quickly took over. “Pinkie, there’s gotta be a reason you cannonballed the front door and loaded that thing with enough confetti to choke an Ursa. What’s the occasion?” The earth pony beamed at the pair of them. “I have no idea. It was just my Pinkie Sense.” Twilight looked ready to explode. “Your Pinkie Sense told you to ruin my house?” She howled in frustration and restlessly hoofed at the floor, as if she were about to charge down her friend. “I don’t believe you sometimes!” “No, my Pinkie Sense only told me to come here,” she answered defensively. “I got three winks of my right eye, then two lots of twitchy tail, and finally an urge to make four dozen chocolate cupcakes topped with extra cream. That obviously means I’ve gotta go see Twilight, and I just assumed it meant that you needed a PARRRRTAY!” Spike and Twilight exchanged a resigned look. In a tone reminiscent of Rarity trying to stay composed under a mountain of pressure, the alicorn said, “Pinkie, I’m sorry but the last thing on my mind right now is organising a big get together. I’ve just got so much studying on Equestrian politics to do, and—” “Wait!” Pinkie cried. “I feel another one coming on!” Her right eye twitched spasmodically three times, her tail vibrated madly in two sets of blurred motion and finally she licked her lips thoughtfully. “Mmm…cupcakes.” Just by glancing at Twilight’s face Spike knew that the same conclusion had hit her simultaneously. “That was exactly the description you just gave us for needing to come to the library,” he said, confused. “But you’re already here!” Twilight hummed in agreement. “No no no no no, that was when I wanted to make chocolate cupcakes,” Pinkie answered happily. “This time I really wanna bake a huge tray of strawberry ones!” By this point anypony would have been able to tell that Twilight had reached the end of her variable tether. Spike’s extra receptiveness to her feelings cautioned him to do something fast. “And that means…?” “I gotta get everypony round at Twilight’s house,” Pinkie breathed, exhaling slowly as if she had just been told the meaning of life. “Fluttershy, Rarity, AJ, Dashie…everypony! It’s really important.” Twilight raised her eyebrows. “Important?” “Yup. I got the same Pinkie Sense three days before Discord first broke free, and again on the same day Queen Crys-a-lot crashed your brother’s wedding.” “Queen Chrysalis…” Twilight mumbled. Then her volatile air vanished to be steadily replaced by reluctant curiosity. “Hmm. I must admit, the fact that you received these premonitions just before major disaster struck, twice for that matter, does give evidence pointing towards this being pretty vital.” Never thinking that his best friend would sacrifice valuable study time simply to follow the ramblings of a serial nutter, Spike started to wonder how well he knew Twilight after all. “You’re going to put faith in a Pinkie Sense? The last time you did that, you both ended up getting chased by an angry Hydra.” Twilight chuckled at the memory. “True, but we can’t risk another catastrophe endangering Equestria.” She nodded in self-assurance. “Alright, Pinkie Pie, we’ll trust your instincts one more time.” Even Pinkie looked surprised. “Okie dokie! I’ll fetch everypony and bring them here.” She waved and sped off at a tremendous velocity, but Twilight was quick enough to create a malleable yet impenetrable barrier right over the destroyed doorway. Pinkie promptly collided with it, leaving her face glued inside the shimmering purple jelly. “Hold it.” Twilight approached a laughing Pinkie Pie, who had managed to wrench herself free. “Two things: one, we’re going to split the workload. I’ll knock at Rarity’s house and Fluttershy’s cottage to get them, while you go to Sweet Apple Acres for Applejack. As for Rainbow Dash... Well, you know as well as I do she could be anywhere. If you see her, make sure you get her to come here. Got it?” “Yes sir, ma’am sir!” Pinkie made another break for freedom and smashed into the barrier again. Her friend impatiently dragged her out. “This thing’s spongy!” “I haven’t told you the other thing yet.” Twilight’s face darkened. “Two, if your Pinkie Sense has informed you wrongly about this forthcoming disaster, my next visit to Sugarcube Corner might involve a Parasprite and cannonballs flying through windows. Am I understood?” Pinkie saluted. “Roger.” Then she added, “As long as the cannonballs are stuffed with cake icing.” She looked expectantly at Twilight, who sighed and ceased her flow of magic to the archway. The pink earth pony hugged her, patted Spike far too hard on the head and at last succeeded in galloping away at high speed. Spike couldn’t help a smile as he watched her disappear on the horizon. “Well, you can’t say she doesn’t keep things interesting.” A similar smile defeated Twilight’s obvious will to remain annoyed at Pinkie. She laughed softly. “You’re right there, Spike. I’m glad she’s our friend.” A small silence followed until the mare rustled his scales. “And I’m glad you’re my friend, too.” You always say that before you ask me to do some pain-in-the-neck task. She continued stroking him – which was admittedly very nice – for several seconds. “My very best friend. Which is why I’d appreciate it you’d clear all of this up while I’m out.” Oh, for Celestia’s sake… “But Twilight, this is ridiculous! Your magic would make everything a hundred times quicker.” In retaliation to her unfair petting tactics, he gazed at her with puppy eyes and pouted. With a shake of the head, she trotted to the spot where the entrance had once stood. “No can do, I’m afraid. Fluttershy’s cottage isn’t far, but Rarity’s boutique is quite a trek.” “Then teleport or fly or something!” “Spike, if I used teleportation as my only means of travel then I’d probably start putting on weight. I don’t think I get enough exercise as it is, what with my studying and all. And I’m still not all that confident with my wings, but don’t worry; Rainbow Dash practically begged me to start accepting lessons from her soon.” A unique spark flashed in her eyes. “Besides, I don’t want my number one assistant to get rusty now, do I?” Flattery won’t get you anywhere, your Highness. “Wait!” As a last ditch attempt, he tried to bring up an actually valid point. “If I tidy all this up now, I won’t have much time to prepare for our stargazing night tomorrow. I like everything to be perfect for you!” She hesitated, giving Spike a twinge of hope that instantly faded when she said, “I hate to admit it, but I don’t think we’re going to have time for that now. Especially if Pinkie is right about this looming disaster.” As if that were not bad enough, she continued, “Hey, listen. I’ll give my helpful Spike a bright shiny gem if he does this for me. How does that sound?” Her voice was genuine and her words sincere. That was the problem. She… She thinks she has to bribe me so I’ll do as she asks? No, Twilight, I take it all back! You don’t have to give me the gem; I’ll do whatever you want! This entire speech was halfway through being processed from thoughts to spoken sentences when Twilight seemed to take his short muteness as an answer. “I think that shocked expression means yes.” She giggled, a noise which had mutated into a painful sound to the dragon’s young ears. Sensing a familiar glow spreading throughout his body, Spike realised she was bidding him goodbye with a gentle dose of relaxed magic. “Well, see you later, Spike. Don’t forget to clean the kitchen!” Twilight Sparkle did not depart with quite the same haste as Pinkie Pie before her, but watching her slowly fade out of sight seemed to drag ten times longer. A pit of sadness welled up inside Spike and his eyes brimmed with tears. Did she really believe she had to resort to bribery to garner his favour? Had he truly been so lax in showing his appreciation for her? When was the last time he had reminded her that he loved her? Forcing himself to get up and start cleaning took an enormous amount of inner strength. The single driving force behind his renewed efforts was the knowledge that not dealing with this now would only call his loyalty into even further question. He decided it would be easier if he swept the kitchen first; getting smaller tasks out of the way would leave him better mentally equipped to focus on the main room afterwards. And when Twilight returns to a spotless library with her friends, I’ll tell her how much she means to me. I’ll tell her every day, just like she tells me. He arrived in the kitchen and fought off another wave of hopelessness as he surveyed the extent of the damage. Pinkie had only made things worse in here. It was as though her aim had been to scatter every shard as far as physically possible from one another. There were smashed plates littering danger all over the kitchen floor, Twilight thought she needed to bribe him in order to keep his friendship, they probably weren’t going stargazing…and he still couldn’t eat any ice cream. Spike sighed sadly as he picked up the saliva-coated broom. He hated doing Twilight’s chores. Another glorious day gave Canterlot the atmosphere that it was competing to be the best city in the world. The cheery disposition of the ponies going about their daily lives was palpable, as though the sun’s rays contained pure happiness which burst upon them shining onto the lucky citizens below. Princess Celestia thought it a shame that this mood did not likewise pervade the castle. Although the enormous ball of fire that she raised each morning perked up the ponies over whom she ruled, she herself could not muster the disguise of contentedness. Last night she had awoken to hear her sister bellowing in the old voice, and had only arrived just in time to prevent Nightmare Moon’s persona from infecting Luna once again. She should have known that Discord would fall into old habits before long. Her sister had endlessly attempted to convince Celestia that freeing him of his stone prison would cause nothing but regret sometime in the future; she had been proven correct within the month. Watching Luna become plagued with so much anger and bitterness mere hours ago had been heartbreaking, and frankly very frightening. Celestia counted her blessings that she had been able to pacify her sister’s rage before it had been unleashed upon the whole of Equestria. The Princess of the Night had refused to come out of her chambers since, crying that she remained unfit to rule and should be locked away for another thousand years. There was no entity, living or otherwise, that would force Celestia to put herself or her sister through that loneliness ever again, but if Discord was still capable and, more worryingly, still actually prepared to test a Princess’s patience for his own amusement, then circumstances could not be allowed to stand. Something had to change. After relenting in her futile attempts to comfort Luna, Celestia had spent all morning devising a plan of action. This design had rapidly evolved into something far larger than she had ever imagined her mind to be able to summon, combining the resolution of many national concerns and also the bearing of her long-awaited wishes for Equestria’s future. The notion that just seven hectic days separated the coronation of the mare Celestia had quietly guided for years and – if she deemed to start today – setting so many of her other plans into motion seemed ridiculous, almost laughable, yet there would be no better opportunity than this. It is essential that nopony discovers my intentions before they come to pass. Not my incompetent advisors. Not my dear sister. Nopony. Even my plans for the new Princess are interwoven, and I thought I would never raise the sun on a day when I could offer Twilight Sparkle the ultimate choice she must now face. This course of action almost seems too good to be true. But true it was, and there was no reason to delay. Her horn glowed, commanding a quill and a fresh piece of parchment to align in front of her. Carefully considering the wording of her request, Princess Celestia began to write.