Dear Princess Celestia,
It’s been three days since the strange creature arrived, and I’m the only one who seems to know he exists. He hasn’t left the library at all since he took up residence, and even then he spends most of his time in the basement, not moving. I’ve tried to talk to him, but I can’t seem to be able to make any progress.
Nonetheless, I will continue to try. James isn’t beyond help, I don’t think. He hasn’t smiled since that first night, and he doesn’t seem willing to try, but now that I know it’s in there I’m sure I can bring it out again.
Or, at least, I hope I can.
Your Faithful Student,
Twilight Sparkle
The unicorn sighed as she set the parchment down on a nearby table, letting it slip from her mind as it slipped from her magical grip. She didn’t want to dwell on it, she had rewritten it several times over. What had started as a simple letter to keep the princess updated had turned into an ordeal of making sure she didn’t imply something she didn’t mean to imply. The result was several hours and an annoyed Spike, who had simply went downstairs after the fifth draft to finish his work.
When he had returned to the room several hours later, as the sun was dipping behind the horizon, he had found Twilight still working over it and, after a few words about how unhealthy it was, had laid on his bed and let himself fall asleep to the tune of furious quillwork. Twilight had, altogether, rather hated the experience with every fiber of her lavender unicornian form. Even as she worked tirelessly to perfect the letter she knew that she would receive no thank you from the depressive lump in her basement.
He wouldn’t care. Princess Celestia could probably burn off his arm and he wouldn’t care. He might be sad to see it go, but then he would probably follow it up with some half-assed remark about how he could get along without it. Twilight fumed to herself. The creature had been prying and picking at her patience over the past few days.
He never did anything big to piss her off, just a lot of small things. Correcting usage of words. Countering her opinions with his own poorly thought out responses that curbed no retaliation. They were so simple and stupid she couldn’t argue them down, but he acted like they explained everything. Like any two words plucked from the air could explain the most complicated problem. She could feel her anger mixing with her magic, and she could feel the heat beginning to coil in her mane, a sign for her to calm down lest things get out of control.
She rose from her bed, cautiously but quickly, and moved to the nearest window. She opened it slowly, wanting to avoid waking Spike from his slumber. Closing her eyes, Twilight began a series of deep breaths. Deeply, through her nose, she felt the cleansing fresh air dart. It cleared her mind of the cobwebs she didn’t know it had. She felt rejuvenated as the breeze danced over her features and emptied her mind of her troubles, as it moved behind her eyes, clearing them from the heavy fog that rested just out of sight.
With one last, long, breath Twilight closed the window. Taking care not to slam it. She needed sleep, definitely. But she needed to wash her face first, it always helped her when she had troubles before. Let her pent up feelings flow away with the water, letting her sleep in a comfortable elysium. Her hoofsteps clicked softly against the worn wooden floor as she moved through the library, a gentle swaying tune that soothed her soul.
She reached the bathroom shortly, and looked into her reflection in the mirror. The cracked appearance of her tired eyes shone back to her, showing the truth for what it was. Without hesitating, she turned the knob of the sink. Letting the cold water of the night flow freely through the system as she waited for the water to warm.
When a soft white mist began to waft off the water, she determined it was ready and dipped her head into the running water. The small opening didn’t allow for her to wet her entire head, but it was enough to start the job. She lifted a nearby washcloth while the water poured through her fur, damp and warm against the skin beneath it.
She drenched the cloth in the warm water and began to soak her face with it, letting the steam brush gently over her eyes. She smiled to herself as she did so, a simple pleasure during a complicated situation. Despite it’s basic form, she could feel it running veins of comfort through her skin, over her fur and deep through her muscles.
With an inhale of damp warm air, Twilight turned the knob of the sink and began to wring out the washcloth, closing her eyes once again so as to fully engage her senses in the feeling that massaged her weary body. Her tense muscles relaxed and her mind began to enter a state of zen.
Unfortunately, this pleasure was not bound to last.
As Twilight opened her eyes once again, she was greeted with a sight that sent a shock deep through her. Her body coiled in preparation to run and her mind quickly left the zen behind as it tried to focus on getting away. She wanted to back away from the view in the mirror, but she found she couldn’t. Her legs felt locked tightly, unable to move.
The sneering visage of King Sombra glared at her from the glass. The familiar swirls of dark magic seeping from his eyes. “Hello,” hissed his voice, gaining an even eerier feeling as it found resonance with the small bathroom. “It’sss been awhile.” Twilight tried to flee, tried to scream, but only succeeded in falling down against the cold ground. Her voice was gone, trapped away somewhere unknown.
“Heavensssss, it appearsss you have fallen.” Stated the head, having moved to the top corner of the mirror, glancing down at her. “Don’t worry, you shan’t be inconvenienced much longer.” The chill those words sent down Twilight’s spine made the floor feel warm in comparison. A tendril of green magic began to worm beneath the reflection, squirming wildly as it fought with an invisible barrier. Then, with a silent terror, it broke from it’s two dimensional trappings and began to worm through the air towards the magically bound and gagged Twilight Sparkle.
Terror filled Twilight’s mind, Unable to think of a spell to save her now as he mind began to goof around in circles. Looking desperately for assistance in all the wrong places, like a scared filly. This fear, however, was broken with the door. James stood in the door way, his eyes raging with cold fire as he took in the situation. Without even pausing to examine the shocked look on Sombra’s face, he darted forward and swung his arm around.
His fist collided with the glass, sending bits and pieces of broken reflections through the air. The peeling scream of Sombra faded away and the tendril dissipated to nothingness. Glass pierced James’ hand, shrapnel cut a jagged design into his skin, leaving him to immediately pull his hand away from the damage he had caused and began to cradle it next to his body.
The air was silent, Twilight could feel control returning to her limbs. Slowly James turned to face her, a small river of blood already beginning to flow down his shirt. She looked at the blood, watching as it tainted his shirt, turning it a muddy red color. He looked at her, as she began to raise herself from the ground. It was a moment of silent praise, so loud and so high that the normal ear couldn’t hear it, and the normal mouth couldn’t give it.
They stared for a moment, as if to burn the image of being okay into their minds. “So,” Said James as he broke the silence, much like he had the mirror moments before, albeit with less blood. “I don’t suppose you keep alcohol on hand to clean wounds?”