Magic Tutor

by RainbowDoubleDash


1. An Overdue Twilight

Twilight Sparkle hadn’t known what to expect, rushing winds, peels of lighting, a sphere of nothingness displacing reality to herald her return before depositing her at the bottom of a smoldering crater. What actually happened though was decidedly anticlimactic. One moment she had been in that impossible gulf between worlds and the next she found herself sitting in the central town square of Poniszawa next to a fountain, almost as if she had never left in the first place. Certainly none of the ponies in the surrounding area seemed to pay her arrival any mind, going about their ordinary daily routines undisturbed, heedless of the lavender unicorn that but mere moments before hadn't been there.

Had she awoken in her bed the she might have dismissed it all as just a dream. It could still possibly have been some kind of delusion, but she was fairly certain she was still sane and in control of all her faculties. Plus, there had been the promises she had made to herself – No more running, no more hiding – not just from the law but from herself either. It was time for Twilight Sparkle to own up to all her mistakes no matter the consequences.

…and yet…

Could she really do it? Could she really bring herself to just surrender to the authorities?

It would be so easy to just disappear, and even though she had promised both to herself and to the princess, she couldn't deny that the temptation was there. Then she remembered just how lonely and isolated these past few months had been. She couldn't go back to living like that, with no family, no future, no hope. Still, it was hard, and Twilight felt her stomach turning in knots while her hooves seemed as though they were rooted in place, and she was afraid. Not of the punishment and humiliation that awaited her, but of her own cowardice. She feared that if she so much as tried to move from where she sat she would in spite of herself runaway all over again.

“No!”

She hadn't realized her cry was made aloud until another mare walked up to her, “pardon me miss, but is everything alright?”

“Yes…no…I mean…” Twilight stammered as her jaw quavered in dread of the words she was trying to form. “I…I need a…” she gulped audibly, “a police officer.”

The other mare’s expression of concern deepened, “Are you in some kind of trouble, miss? Are you hurt? I can help carry you to the hospital.”

“I…just please…please go and find a police officer, and do it as quickly as you can.”

The other mare looked confused and hesitant, but nodded. As Twilight watched the pony trot off, she breathed a sigh of relief; it was all finally going to be over; there was no longer any turning back now.

…and yet…

There was no telling how long it would take for an officer to arrive. Even if she didn’t have time to run she could still teleport. It would be so simple, so effortlessly easy that she absently felt the familiar spell weave its way through her horn.

With a smack of her own hoof, Twilight forcefully denied any such traitorous desires. She would hold firm in her resolve and bring the nightmare of these past few months to its final and inevitable close. She repeated her promise again and again like a mantra, whether aloud or only in her own head she didn't know.

No more running, no more hiding.

Still, her breaths increasingly came in ever more frantic pants with each passing moment as she sat, eye clenched tightly shut and every muscle inn her body held tense. She shut out all distractions and focusing on the singular task of not abandoning her promise.

No more running, no more hiding.

No more running, no more –

“Excuse me, but I was told you needed some kind of assistance.”

Twilight nearly jumped from her own skin when she was tapped on the shoulder. Now, as she slowly brought her eyes back into focus, and with them her mind back to her present circumstances, she couldn't help but tremble at the imposing figure of the uniformed stallion in front of her. Though his face bore a genuinely helpful, if concerned smile, to Twilight it felt almost like a cruel mockery of her impending doom.

Clearly the officer didn’t recognize her on sight, maybe because he’d not been part of the raid to capture her, or perhaps he was only a new recruit hired in the interim after she'd made her escape. It didn't matter, though it certainly would have made things so much easier if he had identified her on sight. Part of her would have preferred being violently tackled to ground over this. Again she felt the temptation to flee, or just make up some lie – it would be so easy.

She muttered once over, “no more running, no more hiding,” and then held a deep breath.

“I'm sorry I didn't quite here that.”

Exhaling sharply Twilight finally spoke the words that would forever seal her fate, “I need you to arrest me.”

The officer cocked his head briefly than knocked a hoof against his ear, “Sorry, but I think I must have misheard that last part. It sounded like you said you wanted me to arrest you.”

That traitorous part of her screamed once more in vain, demanding that she flee, that she do anything she could to escape. She could still do it, it would be so – “No!”

The outburst hadn’t been a denial of guilt but only to silence her own thoughts before they bested her resolve, and so she quickly amended, “I mean yes. My name is Twilight Sparkle and I’m a wanted fugitive…and don’t look at me like that. I am not insane, I’m just tired. So very, very tired… and all I want to do is see my family one last time before I have to serve out my debt to society.”

She held out her fore-hooves so they could be easily cuffed. She also lowered her head, in a mix of defeated resignation, mournful shame, and of course to make it easier for the officer to slip a magic suppression ring onto her horn. She breathed deeply, however, as she sat fully committed, her fears all seemed to finally evaporate. It was all over; at long last it was all finally over…

“Miss Sparkle?”

Twilight started as she was woken from her dream – or rather, her memory. Blinking a few times and holding up a hoof against the glare of daylight coming in through the train car’s window, she found herself looking at an earth pony stallion, dressed in a plain brown uniform and holding a clipboard in one hoof. “We’re here, Miss Sparkle,” he said. Behind him, Twilight could see a second pony, this one a pegasus, in an identical uniform.

Twilight nodded, standing and stretching. She was surprised she’d been able to get any sleep at all on the train ride, which had after all only been a two-hour one from Canterlot’s municipal prison to Ponyville. Slipping on saddlebags – using her mouth and hooves, as she still wore a magic-suppressing horn ring that prevented her from using even simple telekinesis – that contained the few personal belongings she was taking with her, she followed her escorts from the morning train and onto the platform of Ponyville’s train station.

There was a small bustle of ponies already, some getting off the train, but more piling into it. The station seemed almost new, or at least like it had been rebuilt recently. The wooden floor was finely polished, the walls and benches clean of any sign of dust or decay, the window that separated the ticket master from the main station free of any scratches. The only thing out-of-place was construction occurring along the sides of the rail line itself, ponies lifting tall poles into place and stringing up a series of wires – telegraph wires, Twilight realized. With all of Equestria’s major cities, other than the pegasus cloud-cities, having been connected to the telegraph network, the system was now finally expanding into the smaller municipalities and boroughs.

Twilight followed her escorts as they left the train station, and entered Ponyville proper. The whole town, she noticed, looked shiny and new, despite the fact that it was mid-autumn – new windows, new walls, new gardens…and where it didn’t look new, it looked suitably old and rustic, houses that had been built decades or longer before and had been given plenty of time to settle into their places, become a natural part of the town. Though even these, Twilight noticed, seemed to have a fresh coat of paint or new-looking fence in several areas.

Twilight felt her mood darkening at the sight of the new construction and paint-jobs. She knew the reason: at the start of the last summer, Ponyville had been attacked by a minion of Corona. She didn’t have all the details, but she did know that afterwards, Ponyville had asked for financial help from the Royal Emergency Management Ministry, the REMM, which her father, Viceroy Night Light, headed – and their request for help had been initially denied, ostensibly because the REMM wanted to take time to assess the situation, but in reality, because her father was using his position to get back at Trixie Lulamoon, the town’s Representative of the Night Court, and also the one peripherally responsible for her spending so many months on the run as a fugitive.

Twilight still wasn’t sure how she felt about that – what her father had done was wrong, but then, with him unable to get in contact with Twilight in any way, he had only been acting out of fear and despair. In a way, a very direct way, it was her fault.

The point of it all was, though, that Twilight Sparkle, daughter of the pony who had tried to strangle Ponyville, the unicorn who had brought an Ursa Minor into town simply to prove her own magical prowess and then had stupidly let it get out of control and wreak more than a little havoc, was coming to live in town. Twilight let out a sigh, hanging her head as she trotted. The ponies here would probably hate her, and they had every right to. But she had a debt to pay to them, and she intended to pay it.

After several minutes of trotting, Twilight and her escorts reached a tree, the largest that Twilight had ever seen. The tree wasn’t just for decoration, however – its insides had been worked out, as evidenced by the windows and doors across its surface. The tree was nevertheless alive in spite of this, though its leaves were browning given the season. A sign that hung from the tree’s front door identified the tree/building as “Golden Oaks Library.”

Twilight wasn’t surprised when she saw there was a few ponies waiting for her at the library’s front door. The first was a beige earth pony with a grey mane and wearing a cravat, and a cutie mark of a scroll tied with a blue ribbon. This would be Ivory Scroll, the mayor of Ponyville. Standing next to her was a pony much more familiar to Twilight – a blue unicorn with silver hair, wearing a purple, star-studded wizard’s hat and cape.

Trixie grinned when she saw Twilight, waving. Twilight offered a slight smile of her own, though it was put-on as the pegasus of her escorts trotted over to the mayor and began talking to her. Trixie, meanwhile, trotted over to Twilight. “How are you?” she asked.

Twilight blinked a few times, looking around at the town. Nopony seemed to be paying her much attention – but they seemed, to her eyes, to be doing such in a very deliberate way. They had to all know her and remember her, didn’t they? “Scared,” she admitted, though her weak smile didn’t drop.

Trixie’s more honest smile didn’t either. “It’ll be okay, I promise,” she said. “The ponies here put up with me, remember?”

Twilight chuckled slightly at that – not much, but it was real. She looked back to the library. “Looks just like the one from the other world,” she noted. It was difficult to think that this time only a few months ago, she had been in some kind of parallel Equestria, where Celestia had remained good and it had instead been Princess Luna that had gone mad.

Trixie nodded. “Layout inside is a little different, though,” she said. “You’re only going to have the top floor to yourself. There’s a kitchenette, bathroom, bedroom, small living room, few closets. The observatory on the top is something you can reach from your place, but it’s also accessible from the ground floor from a spiral staircase – it’s open to the public. What’s yours is, um…small.”

Twilight’s smile grew a little larger, and significantly more genuine. “Except for the entire library I’ll have under my hooves after closing time,” she noted, waving a hoof at the tree as a whole.

“Well, yeah, except that,” Trixie acknowledged, tilting her hat down a little. She began to say something else, when the mayor and her escort came up to Twilight. Trixie and Twilight both stood a little straighter, expecting something official to begin around now.

“Alright then, Miss Sparkle,” her escort said. “If you could just tilt your head forward so I can get that ring off…” Twilight did, and the pegasus used his hooves to slip the magic-suppressing ring from her horn. A tingle traveled up and down its length, and before Twilight could stop herself, she sent some magic through it – not much, just enough to make it glow. After about two months of not being able to use her horn, it felt good to have it up-and-running again, as it were, and none of the ponies present begrudged her the minor cantrip.

“Okay,” her escort said. “Twilight Sparkle, your formal sentencing to Ponyville begins now. You will be working in this library for the town of Ponyville. Fifty percent of your pay will be deducted from your earnings each month and go to the town of Ponyville to pay for damages caused this past Spring. In return, however, the town has elected to allow you to live in the library rent-free, though note that this will not cover any utility expenses. Do you understand?”

Twilight nodded – the exchange seemed more than fair, all things considered. The escort continued. “Your house arrest to Ponyville will last until you have completely paid your debt to Ponyville out of your library earnings and you have served at least five years here. While under house arrest, barring a life-threatening emergency you may not leave the library without a designated escort, and even with such an escort you may not leave Ponyville without special permission from the Royal Police Bureau.” The pegasus turned to Trixie, gesturing with one hoof. “Representative Trixie is your designated escort, and she may herself designate a second in case she should be unavailable.”

Trixie’s head tilted to the side. “Do I have to pick one now?” she asked.

The pegasus shook his head. “And you can change it as necessary, though there’s a form you have to fill out each time you do. I’d advise against doing it too often, however. More than once we’ve run into situations where the main escort would simply deputize somepony nearby, or do up a bunch of the forms with the name of the second left blank and give them to the pony under house arrest, giving the sentenced pony the freedom to come and go as they please. That defeats the entire purpose of a house arrest, and can lead to penalties for both of you.”

“Although,” Ivory Scroll put in, raising a hoof, “the town council of Ponyville is hoping that you will use your chances to leave the library in order to see to personal reconciliation with some of the ponies who were impacted by the Ursa Minor’s fit, or else to help the town out during, for example, the Running of the Leaves, or the start of winter.”

Twilight blinked, even as the escort nodded. “Being proactive in this way may – note that I’m saying may – lead to, with permission from Ponyville’s town council, a loosening of some of your sentencing terms, though not its length.”

“Justice should be about symmetry, not punishment,” Ivory Scroll continued. “Show us that you’re here for more than to fulfill a debt. Help us out, Miss Sparkle, and we’ll help you.”

Twilight paused as she considered that. “Would anypony really want me helping out?” she asked. “After what I did – ”

She stopped when she heard light laughter from Trixie and Ivory Scroll both. She glanced between the two of them in confusion, and Ivory Scroll just waved a hoof. “This…this is Ponyville, Twilight,” she said. “Only a week or two before you first came here, the town was attacked by parasprites. And a few weeks after you left, there was a wild phoenix. Then after that…well, let’s just say, Miss Sparkle, that I do believe that your Ursa Minor is just par for the course here.”

Trixie nodded. “Some towns have landmarks, some have famous ponies, some have rustic charm. Ponyville? Ponyville has the occasional monster attack.”

Twilight blinked a few times at that, while Ivory Scroll thanked the two escorts and sent them on their way. “Don’t worry, you’ll like it here,” Trixie said, putting a hoof on Twilight’s withers and guiding her towards the library’s front door. “Welcome to Ponyville.”

---

My little pony, My little pony
Ahh ahh ahh ahhh...
My little pony –
Friendship never meant that much to me
My little pony –
But you're all here and now I can see
Stormy weather; Lots to share
A musical bond; With love and care
Teaching laughter; It’s an easy feat,
And magic makes it all complete!
You have my little ponies –
How’d I ever make so many true friends?

---

After the curse that Corona’s minion Zecora had placed on Ponyville forced the citizens of the town to drink alcohol without end, without allowing them to pass out (though fortunately also not allowing them to poison themselves), the town had been rendered a complete wreck. Nowhere had this been more true than Berry Punch’s bar, which had essentially been the epicenter of the disaster. Tables had been broken, windows smashed, floors stained, an entire wall had collapsed, and of course, its entire stock had been completely depleted and equally as completely not paid for, at least for the most part.

But that was months in the past now. Emergency money had come from Canterlot – eventually – and distributed as necessary to the various townsponies who had needed to rebuild their lives. Now, with a new door, new windows, new wall, fresh coat of paint, and fresh stock of fine beverages, Berry’s bar had opened its door again. Berry had been worried, Trixie knew, that everypony would be wary of going anywhere near alcohol after what had happened, that even with her doors open once again last Friday, she’d still be facing a number of very, very poor months ahead.

She had been quite wrong, of course. It turned out that after months of not being able to kick up their hooves at the local taphouse after a long, hard week of working their fields and orchards, the farmers of Ponyville – even Applejack – had been eagerly counting down the days until the bar had opened again, nevermind everypony else who lived in the town proper, especially Trixie. That Friday had been the best that Berry’s bar had ever had.

Today – Tuesday evening – was looking slower, but still plenty busy as Trixie trotted in, giving Berry and the orange-coated stallion that helped her tend bar a wave as she did. She made to go to her usual seat, but saw, of all ponies, Raindrops already sitting at the bar, a drink in front of her and head hanging, with mane obscuring her eyes.

“Yikes,” Trixie said as she trotted over to her pegasus friend, sitting down next to her. “Rough day?”

Raindrops snorted slightly.

“Sorry to hear,” Trixie said, signaling the barkeep for her usual. “I guess that Rainbow Dash’s productive streak couldn’t last forever, though. I’m guessing it was something to do with her, right?”

Raindrops snorted again.

Trixie sighed sadly, though she eyed Raindrops a moment before pressing on. Her wings were limp, though, and she seemed fairly relaxed – she wasn’t giving any of the outwards signs Trixie had learned to recognize as her tells for when her anger was in danger of boiling over. “Well, thanks for the nice day, anyway,” she said as her drink appeared in front of her courtesy of Berry – bourbon, of course. Raindrops didn’t seem too incensed and wasn’t telling Trixie to leave her alone, so she resolved to stay. “Sparkle’s arrived in town; spent the day with her and the mayor getting her situated in the library. I’m here for a celebratory glass for that. You should have seen her – she was so nervous!”

Raindrops let out a slightly more subtle snort at that. Trixie took a swig of her bourbon as she considered. “I guess you’re right,” she conceded. “I suppose she does have a good reason to be nervous. But, hey, those parasprites never came back to fix anything. Neither did that phoenix, or Corona. So that puts her a leg up over them, right?”

Raindrops’ only response was another snort. Trixie’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, come on,” she insisted. “Sparkle’s been through a lot.”

Snort.

“She has!”

Snooooort.

“You know, that’s not really very mature.”

Snnnnooorrrrt.

Trixie opened her mouth to retort to that, when Raindrops’s head leaned forward, then more forward…and then ended up in her drink, knocking it over and splashing her, the bar, and the floor. At that, her wings flared out as she said something – it sounded a bit like buzzah wah, but Trixie wasn’t sure – and her head shot back up as she glanced around with glassy eyes. “Wha…?” she asked. “Wait, when did I get here…?”

Trixie was aware of Berry and her bartender then, Berry looking at Raindrops closely before turning to the bartender. “Okay, switch her to soda, Fizzy,” she instructed.

“That is a soda,” the bartender said, as he went over to the bar with a rag, cleaning up the mess as Raindrops ran her hooves over her eyes. “Ginger ale.”

Berry raised a brow. “Switch her to diet, then,” she said.

Raindrops blinked a few more times, letting out a low groan. “Sorry, sorry,” she said, waving a hoof. “Haven’t slept much the past few…um. Did I pay already?” at a nod from Berry, Raindrops sighed. “Okay. Sorry, I’ll go…” She turned, trotting from the bar with her head hanging.

“Wait, hang on,” Trixie said, though Raindrops didn’t seem to hear her as she trotted outside. She sculled back her bourbon, ignoring the burn to her throat with practiced ease, and passed a few bits to pay for it, before setting off after Raindrops. Her friend hadn’t gone far – Raindrops was trudging down the street towards her home, wings still sagged a little and head hanging low. Trixie caught up to her easily. “Raindrops?” she asked. “Is everything okay?”

Raindrops glanced up at Trixie, ruffling her wings. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said.

“Honest?” Trixie asked, then smirked. “No pun intended, I swear.”

Raindrops nodded, smiling a little anyway at Trixie’s accidental reference to the pegasus’ Element of Harmony. “Yeah, honest,” she promised, stopping and sitting back on her haunches, again running her hooves over her face. “I’m just…exhausted. Wanted a soda as a pick-me-up, but I guess that didn’t work. Just need to sleep, I guess…”

Trixie’s head tilted to the side. “Rainbow Dash?” she asked. If there was a reason Raindrops was unusually tired, it was usually somehow related to her erstwhile weather captain slacking off.

Raindrops’ head shook again, however. “No, she’s been fine lately. Job was fine. I just haven’t been getting a lot of sleep this week.” She started trotting again, and Trixie kept pace. “Snails has been getting these headaches for the past two or three days, worse when he tries to sleep, so he ends up staying up all night. Which means I stay up all night to make sure he isn’t trying to let a…a…I dunno, a really big, hairy spider or something, into the house.”

Trixie shuddered at the thought, though Raindrops didn’t, being more used to her little brother’s love of creepy-crawlies that was his special talent. “What about your parents?” Trixie asked.

Raindrops rolled her eyes. “You know my dad. He’s half-asleep all the time anyway. And my mom could give Pinkie Pie a run for her money with how energetic she is.”

Trixie stared. “So your whole family’s being kept up just because Snails has been having headaches?” Trixie asked. She smirked a little. “Lucky foal. Whenever me or one of my cousins tried to stay up all night, tante Moonsinger would threaten to make us sleep out in the bayou with the aligators. Oncle Sky Shaper actually once took us out there, too.” Raindrops raised an eyebrow at that, and Trixie laughed, waving a hoof. “Oncle just ended up turning it into a camping trip. Caught some fireflies, brought some marsh mallows home…nourri les moustiques…” Trixie was less fond of that particular part of the memory, or rather the itchy day after it, “…and anyway, we never even saw a gator.”

Raindrops nodded a moment, but then shook her head as she pressed forward. “They’re bad headaches,” she said, tapping her head. “Snails says they’re right here, at the base of his horn. Whenever he goes to sleep he only ends up getting a few minutes before waking up. Then nothing will keep him down. Weird thing is that he doesn’t seem to be getting tired, though, or at least Cheerilee didn’t notice anything.” She sighed. “If the same thing happens tonight, we’re going to take him to the hospital, see what’s going on.”

Trixie considered, frowning. “Base of his horn?” she asked. Raindrops nodded. “And he can’t sleep…mind if I see him? Promise I won’t be long, but I think I might know what the problem is and I might know how to help.”

Raindrops’ wings and head perked a little at that. “Yeah, if you can,” she said. By now, the two had reached Raindrops’ home – a small, two-story house, smaller than its neighbors but notable for having a somewhat flatter roof with a railing and a door leading to it. Raindrops lived there with her father Dewdrops, mother Shutterbug, and little brother Snails. Trixie sometimes wondered how the family, three of whom were pegasi, could stand living in such cramped conditions, and could only assume that they tended to use the roof as an impromptu third floor when the weather was good (or not, as the case may have been with Raindrops).

Raindrops let the two of them in, calling out a hello to anypony who was home as she did. Trixie followed her through the narrow hall that led to her living room, where the two found Dewdrops, who had a blue coat and sandy-blond mane, with the day’s newspaper in front of him and a pipe in his mouth – a scene that was bizarrely picturesque to Trixie. He looked up from the paper, and smiled when he saw Raindrops and Trixie. “Good evening, Trixie,” he said slowly – Dewdrops was one of the most sedate ponies that Trixie had ever met. “What brings you here?” He glanced at Raindrops. “Anything to do with why Raindrops looks like she detoured through Tartaros on the way here?”

Raindrops rolled her eyes at that, waving a hoof. “Thanks, dad…” she intoned as she glanced upstairs. “Snails in his room?”

Dewdrops nodded his head. “With your mother and their newest friend.”

Raindrops’ wings sagged. “Legs?” she asked.

“Eight,” Dewdrops responded, turning back to his newspaper, chuckling.

Raindrops’ wings sagged further. “Come on…” she said to Trixie, climbing the stairs up. Trixie followed, trying to figure out what Raindrops’ question and Dewdrops’ answer had been all about. She hadn’t put it together by the time they reached the second floor and Raindrops opened the door to her brother’s room. Trixie looked in.

Snails looked out. So did Shutterbug, whose coat was much like Raindrops’, and whose mane was similar as well, albeit with a white stripe.

And so did something eight-legged, disturbingly large, and more than a little hairy. With a few too many eyes for Trixie’s liking.

“Snails,” Trixie said after a long moment. “There’s a tarantula on your head.”

Snails usually got quite excited when he saw Trixie, but that excitement was absent today. It perhaps had something to do with the tarantula sitting on his head, just behind his horn, with a few of its legs resting on the horn and the rest on his head. He did wave at Trixie and Raindrops. “Hi, sis,” he said, quite calmly. “Hi, Trixie.”

Trixie looked to Shutterbug, who was fiddling with a camera. “Shutterbug,” Trixie said. “There’s a tarantula on your son’s head.”

“Oh yes, I know, I brought her home with me after the shoot for this month’s magazine,” Shutterbug said. In an extremely stark contrast to her husband, she spoke at a mile a minute, and her wings often twitched as though she was ready to take flight in a moment. “She’s a redknee tarantula from Alpaclan – ”

“I’m calling her Fuffy,” Snails provided.

“ – and she was in the studio in Canterlot because she was moulting and we wanted to get photographs of that but the shoot ended earlier than expected – always happens to me, don’t know why – and we had her until tomorrow anyway so I thought I should introduce her to Snails. Isn’t she magnificent?”

Trixie blinked a few times, then looked to Raindrops. “Raindrops,” she said, “there is a tarantula on your little brother’s head.”

“Does the studio know you brought Fuffy home?” Raindrops asked.

Shutterbug tittered a little, tapping the side of her nose. “Her tank has little logs and rocks and stuff, if anypony even checks they’ll just assume she’s hiding. I figured just a few photographs for Snails, I can take her back tomorrow morning, and nopony’s the wiser!”

“Why is nopony concerned about the tarantula on Snails’ head?” Trixie asked. “I’m concerned. Deeply concerned.”

Snails laughed a little, looking up. He slowly raised a hoof to the tarantula – Fuffy – placing its tip just in front of her and tilting his head just slightly towards the hoof. Fuffy without hesitation crawled onto his hoof, which he then lowered to look eye-to-too-many-eyes with the tarantula before gently nuzzling it. It may have been a trick of the light, but Trixie was pretty sure the tarantula nuzzled back. Then Snails gingerly carried Fuffy over to a small tank full of sandy pebbles and stones, and she obediently crawled off his hoof and into the tank, which he closed.

Trixie stared. She opened her mouth and raised a hoof. She closed her mouth and lowered the hoof. She bowed her head and thought deep thoughts. Raindrops chuckled as her friend tried to puzzle through how to deal with what she just saw, and instead trotted into the room now that the deadly spider was safely and comfortably stored. She sat down next to Snails so that she could wrap him in a wing hug. “How’s the head?” she asked.

Snails’ ears and head drooped a little. “Okay…” he said, rubbing the base of his horn. “It’s mostly just this ache now…still haven’t slept, though. I want to, but I can’t, or I can, but then I wake up and it hurts…”

Shutterbug let out a long sigh as she finished packing up her camera, trotting over to Snails and drawing him into a big hug. “Well don’t worry, Snails, we’ll get to the bottom of this, you and me and Fuffy can help too. Maybe the doctor’s tomorrow – ”

“No!” Snails exclaimed, eyes wide. “I hate the hospital. It smells funny. And they don’t let anypony bring their pets in!”

Shutterbug smiled. “But honey, the doctors there would only want to help you.”

“I don’t wanna.”

Shutterbug put her front hooves on her hips, looking like she was about to lay down a little law. Raindrops coughed into one hoof before she could, glancing at Trixie. “Actually,” she said, “Trixie says that she might be able to help.”

Shutterbug blinked a few times at that, before turning to the blue unicorn, pressing her hooves together. “Really?” she asked. “I didn’t know you had any kind of medical training, Trixie!”

Trixie shook her head at that, dispelling her reverie. She decided to forget about Fuffy, and move on. She put on her best smile. “Well, no, I don’t,” Trixie admitted, trotting forward. “But I do have a guess at what might be the problem.” She looked to Snails. “Snails, do you know how to do telekinesis yet?”

Snails blinked a little. “Um…sorta’…” he admitted, looking down and scuffing a hoof on the floor.

“Well, let’s see…” Trixie said, looking around the room for a test object. She noticed more than a few tanks full of more than a few bugs, and decided she didn’t like looking around Snails’ room that much. Instead, she took off her hat, and set it down in front of Snails. “Try lifting this,” she said, her own horn glowing and the whites of her eyes turning slightly blue. In her mind’s eye, Snails’ body took on a mostly-pink glow – the color of unicorn magic, at least how she had been taught to perceive it – which faded to a more greenish-gold color around Snails’ horn, the color of his personal magic.

Snails looked nervously at Trixie’s hat for a few moments, before bracing himself – standing with four legs set wide apart and head stooped – and set his horn glowing, closing his eyes. His horn glowed green-gold, and a matching aura slowly wrapped around Trixie’s hat, though it gave out after a moment. Grunting, Snails tried a second time, and got his magic to remain wrapped around Trixie’s hat, and managed to lift it a few feet into the air. The foal, however, was quite visibly straining, teeth grit, eyes screwed shut – while meanwhile, his magical aura showed a significant buildup of green-gold magic at the base of his horn, but only a small trickle actually traveling up the horn’s length and projecting outwards.

“Okay, that’s good, Snails,” Trixie said, raising a hoof and cancelling her magic sight spell. Snails let Trixie’s hat drop to the floor with relief. He was panting more than a little, and Raindrops and Shutterbug both had their hooves on his back to steady him as he sat down. “Okay, I’m pretty sure I know the problem,” Trixie said, looking between Raindrops, Shutterbug, and Snails. “Snails, I’m guessing that you don’t use your magic very often.”

Snails thought, tongue in teeth as his eyes looked upwards. After a long moment, he shook his head. “I guess not,” he admitted. “I don’t think I have a lot.”

“No, that’s not it,” Trixie said, smiling as she looked to the two pegasi. If she was right, this was a fairly simple problem to fix. “Unicorn magic isn’t like pegasus magic. Your magic is focused in your wings and hooves,” she held up and waved her front hooves for emphasis, “and a little bit leaks out whenever you move a cloud or flap your wings or whatever. It’s constantly moving and shifting and being used and replenished, right?”

Raindrops and Shutterbug both nodded, and Trixie continued. “Unicorn magic, though, is focused out of our horns, of course,” she tapped her own horn, “but it doesn’t leave us unless we want it to – when we use telekinesis, make it glow, or cast a more complex spell. So we have much more precise control over our magic than pegasi, or earth ponies. The trade-off, though, is that we’re restricted to just a few spells based around our special talents, usually, and that we can potentially use up too much of our magic at once and hurt ourselves, by overchanneling.

“But, what is happening here is the opposite of that – under-channeling, I guess you could call it.” She looked to Snails, lowering herself to her knees and hocks to look him in the eye – though she didn’t have to stoop as low as she might have needed with other foals, given that Snails was fairly tall for his age. “Basically,” she told him, “you’re not using your magic enough, and it’s building up inside of you. It’s starting to give you headaches because of that. Your magic wants out.”

Snails blinked a few times, before looking down. “Sorry,” he apologized.

“Hey, relax,” Trixie said, waving a hoof. “It’s okay.”

“Oh, this makes it sort of our fault, doesn’t it?” Shutterbug asked, tapping her front hooves together, while Raindrops’ head was downcast in thought. “Since we’re not unicorns? We don’t know how to help Snails learn magic. He’s behind all his unicorn friends at school, isn’t he? This can be fixed, can’t it?”

Trixie waved a hoof again, standing. “I don’t really know, but I’ll bet that this is a common problem amongst unicorns raised by parents from other tribes,” Trixie said, shrugged. “Same as how a pegasus raised by unicorns will probably take longer to learn how to fly and use weather magic. It’s just one of those things. Anyway, all Snails needs to do is use his magic more often, and preferably learn how to use more of it at once, by doing more complex spells than just telekinesis or making his horn glow.” She looked down to Snails again, smiling. “You have a lot more magic than you think, Snails, you just don’t know how to use it yet. You just have to practice.” She raised a hoof, conjuring a trio of small balls of light, which she juggled with her hoof, even as they flashed through a rainbow of colors. “That’s why I use my magic as often as I can. Practice makes perfect!”

Snails started to smile at that, but darkened after a moment. “Aw…but I don’t know how to practice…” he said morosely, glancing up at his horn and straining a little. After a few false starts, he got it to glow. “Magic is hard…”

Trixie tapped a hoof to her mouth. “Well…” she said. “Tomorrow’s Wednesday, right? I’ve been showing Dinky how to use magic for the past half a year on Wednesdays, helping her out. Dinky’s like you, Snails, her mom’s a pegasus and can’t show her how to use her unicorn magic.” Trixie looked up at Shutterbug. “If it’s okay with you and Dewdrops, I could start teaching Snails, too. I’m sure Dinky wouldn’t mind.”

“Really?” Shutterbug asked.

Really?” Snails asked, standing up, ears perked and eyes wide. “I could learn magic from the Great and Powerful Trixie?”

Trixie beamed more than a little. A simple yes could have done here, but Snails wanted more than that, and she was willing to provide. She picked her hat back up, flourishing it before planting it back on her head, hoof on the brim and holding it low over her eyes. “You could learn…the most magnificent of magics!” she proclaimed. “The most spectacular of spells! The most awesome arcane secrets and sensational sorceries ever witnessed by pony eyes!”

Trixie finished this by rearing back on her hooves, one hoof stretching up high, as illusory fireworks went off behind her – though she made sure to keep the noise relatively down. That was all Snails needed to turn to his mother. “Can I, mom?” he asked. “Can I? Can I? Please please please?

Shutterbug smiled brightly. “Of course you can!” she said. “Raindrops can bring you there after school tomorrow – you don’t mind, do you, honey? Raindrops? Dear?”

The three other ponies looked to Raindrops, who was sitting back on her haunches, head downcast and mane obscuring her eyes. After a moment, a slight snort escaped from her, but she didn’t otherwise move.

Trixie chuckled at her sleeping friend, and looked back to Shutterbug. “Tomorrow, after school,” she said. “I promise to be the best magic tutor in Equestria!”