//------------------------------// // Part 1, Chapter 2: And It is Old, and Powerful, and Wild // Story: Everything is Certainly Fine, or "Magical Mystery Cure in three parts" // by Kaj-Nrig //------------------------------// Part 1 Chapter 2 – And It is Old, and Powerful, and Wild -_-_-_- Twilight dreams. She sits alone, in the center of Ponyville, staring at her shadow. There's nothing wrong with her shadow; it just moves is all, and only as much as most shadows usually move. It starts on her left, long and transparent, then circles around her, below her, to her right, and back again. This pattern continues for several minutes (days? years?) before she realizes what's happening and looks up at the sky. It's like watching the Princesses work in fast forward. The sun streaks across the sky in a matter of seconds, then the world bleeds away to make room for the moon and its cavalcade of constellations and stars. Their movement is hypnotic, like watching a pendulum the size of the earth. Twilight feels herself falling asleep again. She could watch the world move forever... As Twilight's eyes droop, she hears something, at the very edge of her senses, like laughter. -_-_-_- Knock knock. Do you not know what time it is!? Twilight grumbles irritably into her blanket. It's nearly midnight! The entire town should be asleep! Whoever it is knocks again, and Twilight throws off the blanket in frustration. “Spike! Can you get the door!?” But then she remembers: Spike is spending the night at Fluttershy's. Apparently he's getting to know their pets quite well now. Well, she's glad for him. But it does make waking up in the middle of the night to entertain strange and unconscientious guests a chore. Knock kno— “I'm coming!” she shouts a bit too sharply. When she gets downstairs and opens the door, she lets the mailmare know how very displeased she is. She doesn't even ask what the items are; she just signs the paperwork, snatches them from his bag, and curtly closes the door on him. What is this, what is this, what is... Hm? A letter from Celestia? That's odd; she would have expected such a thing to come through Sp—oh, that's right. But still, what is so urgent that the Princess had it delivered to her in the middle of the night? “'Dear Twilight Sparkle,'” she reads out loud, more to keep herself awake than anything else. “'The spell contained on the last page of this book is Star Swirl the Bearded's secret unfinished masterpiece.'” She takes a moment to express her appreciation. “'He was never able to get it right, and thus abandoned it. I believe you are the only pony who can understand and re-write it. Princess Celestia.'” Why would Princess Celestia want her to finish a centuries-old spell, especially now? Certainly the Princess's magic is several magnitudes more powerful than even her own, as well as her wisdom. Celestia could do this in her sleep. Why have me do it? Does she have something planned for me? Maybe she wants to turn me into an alicorn like her and Luna? She giggles at the thought. Twilight Sparkle the alicorn! Well, whatever it is, she trusts Celestia's judgement. Twilight flips quietly through the large book – just because she knows where the spell is doesn't mean she can't read for reading's sake – but after only a few pages finds it lacking. Blank page. Flip. Blank page. Flip. Blank page. She knows this should alarm her – Star Swirl was as meticulous and thorough with his writing as she is with hers, and he would never leave an entire book bereft when they could be filled with spells – but it doesn't, and soon enough she's come to the final page: In the primal broth, form the sign of the Family, then sprinkle a cherry blossom petal dipped in blue sheep's milk and wreathed in the light of the sun. Stir with the feather of a flightless pegasus. Add the eye of a hurricane, and at the moment of spell's realization, pour into a diamond flask. Store on the bridge between the self and the world, and release while reciting: “From one to another, another to one: A mark of one's destiny singled out, alone, fulfilled.” Twilight feels the magics eddying within her, feels them form in her mind's eye into an almost palpable singularity – the spell. It rests just behind her consciousness, pooling into the bridge between herself and the world – her horn. Then she releases it in time with her recitation, the words of the incantation speeding it along, adding to it, augmenting it as it crosses the gulf between the worlds— Nothing happens. Did she do it wrong? No, she felt the spell. There was nothing wrong with it. Even if she had done it wrong, there would be some backlash, some sort of... SOMETHING. You can't just cast a spell and have nothing happen. Magic 101: “We deform the universe. THAT'S responsibility.” To have a spell work but do nothing... it just doesn't happen! But... Maybe it really is nothing, she tells herself after a moment. Maybe that's why Star Swirl abandoned it. But if that's the case, then what is it SUPPOSED to do? If she knew that, at least she could know what to look for... “Ugh,” she laments, with a mixture of disappointment and exhaustion. “I can't think like this. I'll figure it out in the morning.” She takes a step— -_-_-_- —and wakes up abruptly. She is still sitting in the middle of Ponyville, still dreaming of the shifting sky. It lulled her into a sleep, she realizes sheepishly, with its monotonous motion and captivating play of lights. She stands up and shakes herself free of the strange dream about a letter and a spell. And as she does so, she notices something very peculiar about her shadow: It has stopped moving. Then she looks upward and realizes why. The sky is split into two, with the moon setting into the night sky on her right and the sun rising into a bright day on her left. She is staring at the precise moment in between. The dawn. Then she hears it again: laughter so faint as to barely pull at the edge of her hearing, but growing louder. It seems to be coming from everywhere at once. And it is old, and powerful, and wild. Then something turns the lights off and Twilight screams. -_-_-_- When she awakens, Twilight clutches Smarty Pants to her and cries in her bed the way she did as a filly. She is terrified of opening her eyes to find herself in another dream, and equally terrified to close them and do the same. She wants her mother to hold her and tell her everything's okay, it was just a dream, silly filly, it can't hurt you. At one point, she is convinced she is finally awake, and half an instant later she is convinced that she is only dreaming that she is awake. She stays that way for a long while, holding onto the small reality of her doll, until long after the final cobwebby tendrils of sleep abandon her. She eventually looks at the clock and, seeing how late in the day it is, finds enough confidence to drag herself out of bed. She is absolutely exhausted; the sleep last night did her no good at all, apparently. Little wonder, that. Her morning routine takes longer than usual. She can't muster up enough energy to use her magic – in fact, she can scarcely feel her magic at all – so it's back to fumbling in the bathroom, brush in one hoof and small mirror in the other. Breakfast tastes terrible, partly because she only has enough effort for oats and water and partly because she manages to spill her water into her oats and she hates soggy oats. After suffering through breakfast, Twilight decides to go for a walk. Maybe the sun will cheer her up some, she thinks. The main wing of the library is thankfully mostly free of clutter; the only things in her way are the letter and book Princess Celestia sent her last night, which she briskly kicks out of the way. All in all, a terrible start to the day. So, of course, it should come to pass that the moment Twilight opens her front door, she is greeted by pandemonium of the highest order. -_-_-_-