Chapter 2: Eye of the Beholder (On Edge Part 2)
Two years before the events in Chapter 1, and three and a half years since Twilight moved to Ponyville.
The air was warm, the sun was shining, and every pony in Ponyville was having a glorious day. The humidity was a touch high for early Fall, but it didn’t bother Twilight Sparkle as she relaxed on the hillside overlooking the lake just outside town. The cool breeze carried the scent of flowers, and she hummed blissfully under the pale blue sky as she basked in the warm sunlight.
Pondering the sun brought Twilight’s thoughts to Princess Celestia and the castle in Canterlot. Before she moved to Ponyville she had started to become aware of the disparity of wealth in Equestria’s capital. Surrounding the castle, above the city both literally and socially, nested and bedded the wealthiest and most powerful mares and stallions. As one looked further down, past the posh and pampered ponies, the stratified classes of Canterlot were revealed: bankers, merchants, craftsponies, clerks, construction and farm workers, day workers, and finally down to those who eked out a living in the slums - a cavalcade from clean to dirty, top to bottom.
Though Twilight knew little of it herself, she was aware of how the nobles of Canterlot described that bottom layer: a scourge of filth and villainy that harbored a wide variety of lawless ponies who’d as soon cut your throat for a bit as spit on your hoof. She had heard it referred to as the Underworld, and the name was always whispered with a strange mix of distaste and awe, as if it would be at once a haven and a trap that would bring pain and death when it finally closed on you.
The Underworld wore its name with a fierce pride, its residence notorious for accepting anything or anypony the distant Canterlot rejected. The lack of real law and the low price of blood, pain and life were woven into their psyches, a far cry from the so-called Harmony espoused by the distant light of the castle, Her Lily-White Royalness, Princess Celestia. It was a harsh, cruel place, and truly one where money could buy anything.
At least, that’s what Twilight had heard from those few ponies who seemed to know anything about it. One or two of them even talked about the odd beauty of the place; aside from its sprawling, multicolored buildings it had a rough honesty about it that made it almost like home to those who ventured there from Above to get away from the pale uniformity of the upper class areas. And whether slumming or genuinely interested, there were always those who would venture into that color-flecked field of gray; that some of them never returned was grudgingly understood, even by Celestia.
The Princess had even mentioned this to Twilight when she was younger, probably in the hopes her protégé would be frightened from venturing into such a dangerous place. She made it even more obliquely threatening when she explained how glad she was that those citizens had never erupted into riots, no matter how bad things had become, and in fact had helped defend the city on those rare occasions when overt invasions had come to visit.
Secretly Twilight almost wished the Underworld would rise up. Not because she wished ill on anypony, but to break down some of the barriers between Those Who Have and Those Who Have Not. As much as she loved her mentor it seems as though she ruled over a divided house, one that couldn’t quite make up its mind about whether it was socialist, democratic, or parliamentary, not to mention having both utopian and dystopian flavors within it.
Twilight shook her head, startled and a little disturbed by the train of her own thoughts. She sighed as they reminded her why she never wanted to live in Canterlot again, and was ever thankful that she had not given in to the temptation to visit the Underworld and partake in its heady cocktail of drugs, alcohol, and depravity. No matter how stressful and restless her days, she had thanked her lucky stars it wasn’t her every time one of her classmates had returned from such a sojourn scratching at fleas, smelling of cheap booze, and often ill for days with terrible combinations of hangovers and whatever lingering malaise their companions of the evenings may have carried.
“Maybe everypony’s right and I have been working too hard,” Twilight muttered to herself as she shook out her mane once more, finally relaxing as she let go of her dark musings. She turned her attention to how her body felt, realizing that for the first time in too long she wasn’t tense or tired from leaning over books, reading all night, or being caught up in whatever danger or zaniness the town or her friends seemed to revel in starting or involving themselves with.
One last thing marred her efforts at calm: she had not received a letter from Celestia in over three weeks. No matter how she tried she couldn’t disperse that last nagging worry, even though she had tried quite a variety of mental tricks - including maundering over the darker sides of Canterlot - to shake it from her psyche. Sighing, she rolled to her hooves and walked over to the carefully tended patch of wildflowers and roses that grew at the foot of the hill.
Stuffing her nose into one of the roses she took a deep sniff, the smell suffusing her senses and driving away all other thoughts even when she let her breath back out in a long huff. The scent triggered something in her brain, and the word trouble sneaked into her mind. Frowning lightly she neatly cut the rose off its bush with her magic, stripped away its thorns, and tucked it behind her ear.
“At least this way I’ll have something pleasant along with me,” she said with a little grin, “even though it’s what made me think of trouble in the first place.” Thus resigned to her fate, she trotted toward the library, hoping Spike had finished the reshelving chore she had asked him to do before she left.
In the library, Spike looked around the room with a mix of satisfaction and trepidation. Twilight had left him a message when she left, unannounced, before he woke up. ‘Spike: I felt like a change of pace and am going out to walk around Ponyville. Please finish shelving all the books while I’m gone.’ It seemed innocent enough, but for some reason it had left him feeling nervous, as if failing her would mean she would send him away. It made no sense when he really thought about it, but it had impelled him into a frenzy of cleaning and organizing, leaving him tired and the library neater than it had been in a long time. It had also left him bored and anxious.
“Maybe I should actually read one of these things,” Spike grumbled as he sat waiting for Twilight to return. Looking around at the veritable cornucopia of knowledge available to him, he shrugged. “Nah, I’m not that bored,” he said with a sigh, drumming his claws on the table.
Vacillating between boredom and worry at Twilight’s continued absence, Spike jumped up from his seat and looked around the library for something to distract him. He wiped a few drops of sweat from his forehead and took a deep breath, then let it out, his mind clearing. From nowhere inspiration struck, and with a muttered “aha!” he grabbed a lantern, lit it, and headed downstairs to the small bathroom in the basement. There he opened the little step stool propped in the corner and put it in front of the sink, climbing atop it so he could see himself in the mirror.
The faint sheen of sweat on his face made his skin glisten in the lantern light. Spike thought he looked rather dashing with flickering flame highlighting his scales, and he started posing in front of the mirror, waggling his eyebrows and smiling seductively.
“Hey Rarity,” he said in what he hoped was a sultry voice, “wanna see me breathe fire?” In his mind’s eye Rarity swooned as he shot a gout of green flame into the air. In the mirror he looked fierce, as if he was protecting his greatest treasure. He closed his eyes and imagined Rarity pursing her lips and beckoning him closer. He leaned forward, only to open his eyes in shock as he lost his balance and fell off the toppling ladder into the mirror, shattering it with a loud crash.
His fire having been stoked by the fantasy, a bit of it burped out as he slammed against the sink, blackening half the mirror frame as he fell. He bounced off the sink and hit the ground next to the ladder, a shard of the broken mirror cutting his forearm as he landed.
Shaking his head, Spike stood up carefully, using the ladder to brace himself. “Ow,” he hissed as he grabbed a towel to staunch the bleeding. He looked around woozily and his face fell as he saw the mess he had made.
“Ooh, Twilight is not going to like this,” Spike moaned out, his pupils shrinking a bit as he contemplated her ire. “I guess that’ll teach me to try to impress myself,” he growled in annoyance as he carefully stepped over the broken mirror to fetch a bandage from the medicine cabinet. He was suddenly thankful that Twilight kept it well stocked in case one of her experiments had unintended effects.
His wound cleaned and arm wrapped in disinfectant and gauze, Spike set to the unpleasant task of sweeping up the glass and pulling down the burned mirror frame. He winced as he noticed a couple of bloodstains from his cut, resolving to scrub them up thoroughly so Twilight wouldn’t panic when he finally told her about breaking the mirror. He winced again as he imagined her being angry, then stopped and berated himself.
“She’ll probably be more worried about me hurting myself than this old mirror,” he told himself sternly, though as the truth of the statement struck him he smiled brightly. Chuckling at the silliness of the past few minutes he finished cleaning up with new zeal, hurrying to finish so he would have time to catch a quick nap before Twilight returned.
Humming a cheerful tune as she trotted toward the Library, Twilight reviewed her checklist for the evening: write a letter to Celestia asking about her silence, check on Spike’s work for the day, have a nice dinner, thank Spike for said dinner, read the next book (or two, or three) in her queue, and re-check the night’s checklist before bed.
As she entered the library she spotted a small empty vase sitting on the table by the door. She grinned as a momentary whimsy came to her: what would it be like not to use her magic on every little thing? Giving a little nod she gingerly picked the vase up in her mouth, and was immediately nervous at how fragile the glass felt. She moved carefully toward the kitchen hoping it wouldn’t break.
As she approached the sink she realized she was drooling a little on the vase. Her long day out had left her more thirsty than she had realized, and there she was standing by the sink with her mouth full. She set the vase on the counter, wincing at the sound of the glass hitting the hard surface. It didn’t break, though, so she sighed in relief and pulled a cup off a nearby shelf with her magic.
She filled it with water, feeling impatient as she watched the level rise. She downed the whole thing in one long gulp, gasping at how good it felt. Little tasted better than cool water after an active day, and she quickly refilled the glass and enjoyed the second draught more slowly.
Finishing the water she set the glass by the sink. “Well, that was remarkable,” she said quietly to herself. “Who’d have thought a drink of water would be such an amazing experience?” Feeling more relaxed she started humming again until she spotted the vase. She frowned lightly as she remembered her idea about not using magic to fill it.
With a look of determination, Twilight put her hooves on the counter, then reached out to turn on the tap. She picked the vase up with her mouth and maneuvered it under the tap, splashing a bit on her nose as she lined up its opening with the stream of water. When it was nearly full she set it carefully on the counter, this time avoiding any hard impact, then turned off the tap.
Eyeing the vase critically she determined that it was exactly 2/3 full - just right for her rose. She looked out of the corner of her eye at the bloom bobbing in the air in front of her ear. She reached for it with a hoof, but the strain of looking sideways at the rose made her a little dizzy, and she stumbled as she bumped the rose out of her hair.
Reflexively Twilight lunged to catch the rose before it fell, her wings flaring out for balance. No doubt that would have worked for the ever-agile Rainbow Dash, but she was still getting used to her wings, and as they caught the air they pushed her up and back, and she fell onto her rump with a little thump. The rose landed on the floor at almost the same moment, and she peered at it ruefully, almost hearing its complaint at being so roughly handled.
Glad she hadn’t crushed the rose or broken the vase, Twilight shook off her dizziness and cautiously picked up the rose by the stem, glad she had stripped off the thorns earlier. With a careful motion she slipped it into the vase, then stepped back and admired her accomplishment.
“Not the most elegant of achievements,” she chuckled to herself, “but at least I managed it without hurting anypony.” She smiled as a ray of sunlight illuminated the flower’s petals, making it glow like the romantic symbol so many seemed to believe it represented.
Mentally she added another item to her checklist: ask Spike to watch the rose and discard it when it wilted. Twilight knew she would likely forget and didn’t want to come across it, black and shriveled, two months later.
“Come to think of it, where is Spike?” muttered Twilight. “He’s usually grumbling to me about his chores by now when I get home.” She stuck her head out of the kitchen and called into the main room.
“Spike? Spike! Hey Spike!” Hearing no response her eyes widened, and in a flash her tiredness from the long walk and the remaining dizziness from the fall joined forces with worry to send her brain into a minor panic. Horrible scenarios popped into her head, all of which led to her never seeing Spike again due to injury, his running away, or worse.
“Gah!” she exclaimed to herself. “Stop it, Twilight Sparkle! You’re just tired, and everypony’s right: you push yourself too hard. He’s probably just asleep.” She smoothed her mane, which had started to fray in response to her fretting, and grumbled, “Maybe I should have the occasional drink to relax like Pinkie suggested. It’s not like I’m some prim and proper princess who can’t indulge in a bit of relaxation…”
She stopped and flicked her wings. “Oh, wait. I am a princess now. Does that mean I should behave differently? Celestia seems not to think so, but…” she brought a hoof to her chin in thought. “Focus, Twilight. What’s the best thing to… oh, right. Spike can help me write a letter!”
Her thoughts finally having come full circle she walked upstairs to look for her friend. As she hoped she found him sound asleep in his little bed in her room. She smiled to see him all curled up, drooling a little on his pillow. Her expression fell when she noticed the bandage on one arm.
Her wings half-opened with worry. “Spike! Are you okay?”
Spike sat up quickly, his eyes still unfocused, at Twilight’s shout. “Whazza?” he mumbled, looking blearily up at her. The memory of his accident and the broken mirror rushed into his mind and he blushed brightly. Knowing he could hardly hide it he grabbed his tail in both claws and looked up at her with wide eyes.
“Um, hey Twilight!” he said with a bit too much cheer in his voice. He winced as he realized he had a headache from the bump when he fell, and this, combined with the soreness of his arm, took a bit of the edge off of the usual charm he managed to use on Twilight. “Glad you came back!”
Now that he was sitting up Twilight breathed a sigh of relief to see that he was okay. “Of course I came back, silly,” she said calmly, though tension crept into her voice as she leaned closer to inspect the bandage on his arm. “But what happened to you?”
“Oh, uh... of course I knew that,” Spike said, not meeting Twilight’s gaze. “I just had a bad dream that... Oh, never mind.” He glanced at his arm, oddly glad to have this distraction from his fears.
He dropped his eyes and twisted the tip of his tail in his claws. “Oh, this! It’s nothing, really. I’ll be fine!” he moved to toss his blanket off him and head downstairs to make breakfast, but he twitched as he moved his arm, though he tried to cover it by sniffing loudly.
Spike’s cheery voice almost let Twilight accept his words and shrug it off, but as he moved his arm a spot of red appeared on the bandage. She gasped and put a hoof on his shoulder, gently but firmly keeping him in the bed.
Her mind reeling with concern she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You... you didn’t do this to yourself, did you?”
Shocked, Spike looked up at her with a frown. “What? No! It’s just a little cut.” Realizing he wasn’t going to be able to get away without telling her the whole story, he sighed.
“I was standing on the ladder so I could look at myself in the downstairs mirror and, well... I was imagining Rarity checking out my muscles, and showing off for her,” he blushed and hesitated a moment before continuing. “And I kind of got caught up in it and breathed a little fire. It burnt the mirror frame, which startled me, and I lost my balance and smacked into the mirror as I fell.”
He looked up at her with tears in his eyes. “I fell on some glass when I landed. It’s just a little cut. I’m really sorry I broke your mirror!”
Relieved and a little angry at herself for even thinking Spike would cut himself, Twilight frowned at him. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?” she asked sharply.
A fat tear rolled out of each of Spike’s eyes. “I’m sorry! I was just afraid, and your note made me not want to make you mad.”
Twilight deflated, her ears falling back. “Aw, Spike. I’m sorry I wasn’t clear. The only thing that matters to me is that you’re safe. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She leaned back in to look at the bandage. “How bad is that cut really?”
A bit of Spike’s humor returned and he grinned up at her. “Well, I think I’ll live, but I might need to go easy on book shelving for, say... a week of rest and recuperation?”
Laughing softly, Twilight nodded, her ears coming back up. “It’s a deal,” she said as she reached out a hoof to shake one of his claws. “And I’ll be clearer in my notes to you. Friends?”
Spike smiled widely. “Friends always,” he said happily. “Now, did you need my help with something?”
"I have to write a letter to Princess Celestia. I need to find out why she hasn't asked anything of me in so long. It’s been more than three weeks! 23 days, 11 hours, actually. That seems too long to be a coincidence." Turning her head away from Spike, she tried not to shoe him the full extent of her worry.
"Okay, Twilight!" He grabbed a quill and paper from a nearby shelf and stood at attention, the rush of helping his friend pushing away his tiredness and the ache in his arm.
"Let's go sit on the balcony, Spike, while the sun is still up," Twilight suggested.
"Yeah it's starting to get chill,” Spike answered.
He bowed slightly as he opened the Prench doors that led to the balcony. “Allow me, my lady,” he said with a playful smile.
Twilight batted his crest with the tip of one wing. “Don’t start that, Spike - I'm still just Twilight.” They chuckled together as they headed onto the balcony.
“Oh! Could you bring up the rose I brought home? I think it would look nice on the windowsill.”
“Sure!” He set down the quill and paper and rushed downstairs. Returning with the rose, he hopped onto the table under the window where Twilight kept some of her work. He reached out and put the vase in a spot, then looked back over his shoulder for Twilight’s confirmation. Seeing her smile and nod, he turned the vase so the flower was facing the room.
When he stepped back to admire his handiwork his foot landed on a book with a wet squishing sound. “Uh oh,” he said as his eyes widened. “Books aren’t supposed to go ‘squish’”.
Twilght’s nose wrinkled as a pungent smell wafted to her from underneath the book. She grabbed it with her magic, looking dismayed as she saw the dripping mess of a half-rotted apple pressed into its underside.
“Spike! What a mess!” she said sharply.
“Hey, it’s not my fault,” Spike said defensively. “If you’d remember to eat more often, or even ask me to clean up in here more, it wouldn’t have been there! Besides,” he added with a sad look, “aren’t you always telling me we can’t waste food?”
Blushing, Twilight flipped the book over and set it on the floor, away from her other papers. “You’re right, Spike. I’m sorry. You know how I feel about books,” she finished sheepishly.
Spike sighed and relented. “I know,” he sighed as he hopped off the table and stood over the sticky book, claws on his hips and his face screwed up with distaste. “Phew, it really does stink. I’ll get this cleaned up as best I can, okay?”
“Thanks, Spike,” Twilight answered tiredly. Looking more closely at the book, her heart raced as she realized what it was.
“Oh no,” she cried, her voice rising in pitch. “That’s one of my older books about Star Swirl! I’ll never be able to nggh..” she closed her eyes as the stress shot a spark of pain through her head, and her tail lashed in reaction, swatting Spike on the nose.
“I’m sorry, Twilight,” Spike said sadly, “I really am. I’ll clean it up.”
Shaking her head to try to clear the ache, Twilight sighed again. “It’s... it’s okay, Spike,” she murmured. “I just can’t take much more of this.” She rubbed her temple with a hoof. “Just... please take care of it, then we can get that letter out to Celestia. Then maybe I can take a nap or something.”
Spike nodded silently and bent to clean the book. It wasn’t as bad as he feared; the stain was only on the cover, not on the pages. The book would stink for a while, but at least the information it held would be safe. He scraped up the apple residue, making sure to get the few pieces still on the table, and took it outside to dump in the rubbish.
When he came back in Twilight seemed to have recovered a bit, though he worried about the bags under her eyes. He walked up to her with a smile, though, and saluted her.
“All cleaned up,” he said brightly as he pulled out a quill and scroll. “Ready for that letter now?”
Twilight smiled wanly and cleared her throat noisily. Remembering what Cadance had taught her has a foal, she took a few deep breaths to drive a bit more of her stress away. Feeling a little more relaxed, she spent a minute organizing her thoughts, swallowing as she realized how dry her throat was. She stood and checked the cup on the table carefully before taking a drink from it, glad it hadn’t been there as long as the apple.
She shook out her mane as a she sat back down before the patiently waiting Spike. Nodding at last, she muttered, “Ready as I’ll ever be.” She then straightened and dictated in a clear, calm voice.
“Dear Princess Celestia,
It has been quite some time since I’ve heard from you. May I ask why it has been so long? I am starting to worry that I have failed you in some way. I know you’re busy with your duties in the Court and with the Sun. Did I miss some important spell or task you set me? Am I not learning about friendship well enough? I know you made me a Princess, but I have made taking care of my friends a priority! Are you taking a break? Maybe you met someone?”
“No, wait, don’t put that last bit in!” Twilight exclaimed, blushing.
Spike stopped and stared at her over the half-finished scroll. “You caught me in time,” he said with a little grin.
Twilight struggled for words, grinding her teeth unconsciously. “This isn’t working,” she said half to herself. “I just can’t put everything that’s on my mind into words. “ She looked at Spike, her expression determined. “I’ll just have to fly there and meet with her personally!”
Though he tried to suppress it, a little snort of laughter escaped Spike as he stared at her. As her expression went from quizzical to annoyed he couldn’t keep it in and laughed hard, dropping the quill and scroll as he wrapped his arms around his tummy.
“What’s so funny?” Twilight growled at him.
Recovering, Spike stood up straight. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but remember the last time you tried to fly for more than a few seconds. You certainly can’t make it all the way to Canterlot!”
Twilight huffed at him, but had to admit he was right. She brightened and said, “Well, maybe I should teleport there!”
Looking worried, Spike walked up to her and put a claw on her shoulder. “I don’t think you should do that when you’ve been working so hard,” he said seriously. “That’s a long way to go, and you haven’t been sleeping well lately.”
Finally admitting defeat, Twilight’s head fell. “Well, what’s your solution, then?”
Spike sighed and patted her shoulder. “She probably is just taking a break like you said, Twilight. Maybe you should just take the train and try to relax on the way. You know she’ll be glad to see you when you get there.” He hopped over to the window and pulled the curtain to reveal the train station in the distance.
Twilight’s eyes widened. “The train... oh my gosh! How did I not realize it sooner?” She rushed to the window and pointed a hoof at the empty tracks. “The train hasn’t been here in over three weeks. I wondered about it, but hadn’t heard anything, so it didn’t seem important.”
She looked at Spike with alarm in her eyes. “But that’s exactly how long it’s been since I’ve heard from Princess Celestia!”
Spike grabbed his tail and stuck the tip in his mouth. “You’re right!” he gasped around his tail. “Maybe something really is wrong. Should we get Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and the others?”
“Hmm... no, I don’t want to bother them if I don’t know for sure there’s something wrong,”
Twilight said firmly.
“Well, you’re a Princess now; you could just order them to come with you,” Spike said with a mischievous smirk.
“Spike!” Twilight cried, her eyes blazing with disapproval. “That’s not even funny! You know I’m not like that, any more than Princess Celestia! Besides, they’re my friends – I can’t just treat them like they’re at my beck and call.” She snorted lightly, then calmed when she saw she was scaring Spike.
“Besides,” she continued more quietly, a smile sneaking back onto her face, “if I’m going to live up to being a Princess, I need to be able to handle some things on my own.”
“Right you are!” Spike answered with glad relief, happy that she wasn’t really mad at him. “But... will you at least tell them before you head to Canterlot?”
“Of course, Spike,” she answered, ruffling his crest with a hoof. “I’ll go tell them now, then find out more about the train. If it’s not running I’ll figure out whether to hoof it or work up the energy to teleport.”
“Okay,” said Spike, once more holding his tail as he watched her head for the door.
Twilight turned back and smiled at him. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Oh!” he answered, relief flooding through him. “I... I wasn’t sure...”
Laughing and blushing slightly, Twilight beckoned him with a swing of her nose. “Of course I want you with me, Spike! I’m always going to need my best bud and number one assistant.”
“Yaay!” Spike shouted happily as he followed her out the door and into the streets of Ponyville.