//------------------------------// // IV. Twilight's Journal // Story: Twilight's Dollhouse II: Lyra's Quest // by Kaidan //------------------------------// One Month Later. . . Scootaloo had been training with Sensei for five weeks, and had finally started training with live weapons. Instead of the wooden practice sword and hoof blades, she had been given a beaten-up metal sword and dull blades to train with. Thick wooden pillars were scattered around the training yard, full of nicks and scratches courtesy of her attacks. Sweat was dripping off her wings and legs as she stood perched on one such cut tree trunk, awaiting the command to start again. “You’re still striking too hard, as if you’re angry. It only takes a few pounds of pressure to break skin. If you waste energy delivering your blows you will fall victim to the beasts of the Everfree. There are worse creatures than hydras in that forest.” “Yes, Sensei,” Scootaloo answered. She took a deep breath and got ready to go again. Her sword was tucked into a scabbard on her left shoulder, allowing her to draw it and attack in one swift motion. “Again!” Sensei shouted. She drew the sword with her mouth and leapt forward, beating her wings hard to gain lift. The sword nicked the crossbeam in the target in front of her. Instead of fighting the impact and straining her neck, she let the blade be pushed back and glide over the beam, cutting deeply without getting the blade stuck. The next target was nearly ten feet below her to the right. She was aiming for the underside of that beam in a narrow gap between the ground and the wood. Her sword would not have room to strike, so she brought it to a ready position that allowed her to fly without being encumbered. With the blade out of the way on her left side, she dove and turned upside down. As she bent her forelegs, the training blades shot out, each half the length of her forelegs. She slammed them into the wood, allowing the blades to bury into the wood, getting stuck. Her speed towards the ground shifted as it pulled her in a loop beneath the log. Her momentum had changed to allow her to fly away from the ground. At the end of her arc beneath the beam, she tugged her legs forcefully, withdrawing the blades, then orienting herself to be right side up again. She nearly flinched and hit the next target, as she had two runs ago. This time she rolled to the right to dodge it, instead of trying to strike it with the sword. Just after she’d cleared the obstacle, she stopped and spun in mid air, hitting the backside of the target and leaving a long gash. The next two targets ahead of her should have been easy, and she withdrew the hoof blades and prepared to strike them both in quick succession. She pictured Twilight in her head, imagining the target was her and not some beast from the Everfree. Scootaloo struck the target and her head was snapped sharply to the side. Tumbling in mid air, Scootaloo managed to orient herself but had left the sword buried to the hilt in the wooden target. The last target was closing quickly and she knew her hoofblades would not extend and lock in place in time to strike it. She tucked her head down and rolled in mid air, folding in her hind legs. Once she was upside-down, she bucked her hind legs hard, and heard wood splintering. Scootaloo fell to the ground, unable to gain her bearings in time to avoid the crash. She got up and groaned, not from the pain which she had learned to ignore, but from yet another failure on the obstacle course. Her sword was buried to the hilt, her hooves probably cracked, and she had left one target standing. “Good work, Scootaloo. Unorthodox, but they say one must adapt or die.” Scootaloo looked back at him and saw the foot thick wooden beam had been cleaved in two. The top half lay a good thirty feet away and looked like lightning had split the trunk in two. “I did it?” “Yes, you’ve cleared the obstacle course. Yet your self-control leaves much to be desired. I’ll put the weapons up. You are to go meditate on why you are still letting anger power your strikes when finesse and dexterity are far more lethal.” “Yes, Sensei.” Scootaloo unstrapped the hoof blades and scabbard then bowed on her forelegs to her teacher. She flew over to his small dojo and headed into her room. After drying off most of the sweat with a towel, she sat down at a small workbench in the corner. To teach her dexterity, Sensei had bought her a small sewing kit designed for unicorns. The needles were thin like blades of grass, as was the string. At first Scootaloo was insulted, for no pegasus or earth pony could sew with such tiny needles. She had stuck herself countless times attempting to master it just to spite her Sensei. After gaining a little proficiency, she had been provided a thin cyan headband. It was of high quality, and some day she would ask Sensei how he had acquired it. For now, she focused on the small emblem in the middle of it. Scootaloo had spent the past week slowly stitching six colors into it. Today she would put the final streaks of red in it, and complete the rainbow icon that reminded her of what she fought for. Scootaloo deftly clasped the needle between her two hooves and began pushing it through the cloth over and over again, using her mouth to flip the headband over between each stitch. Her mind cleared as she focused on the task and she found her anger fading away. She knew Sensei was right, and that her thoughts of revenge would often appear at the wrong moment and ruin her training. Scootaloo felt it was only natural to want to get back at the pony who had ruined the lives of an entire town. Still, a single slip-up would result in the jaws of a predator or the offensive spells of a crazed alicorn to hit her. Scootaloo gasped and drew her hoof back. She hadn’t been paying attention and pricked herself in the delicate frog inside her hoof. The blood-filled area of her foot trickled steadily and she examined it closely. Despite the small size it was aching and bleeding, the small strike against a larger beast. She had not needed to strike hard to wound herself, and Scootaloo realized there was merit to Sensei’s school of thought. “Luna, you asked to see me?” Lyra questioned. She walked across the princess’s chambers and stood next to the table she was seated at. “Please, join me,” Luna instructed. “Yes, Luna.” “Do you know what this is?” Lyra sat down and saw a simple tome sitting in the middle of the table. Two simple words had faded into what looked like a leather cover. They read Twilight’s Journal. “Was that written while Twilight was capturing ponies? She used to take notes in a book.” “Yes, though Celestia and I have had no luck opening it. She is worried what might happen should we allow you to open it, yet I have trained you long enough to know you will not fall victim to delusions of grandeur. The speed at which you’ve been learning almost rivals Twilight, and I believe that is what gives Celestia pause.” “She’s worried I’m turning out just like her former pupil?” “Indeed, though I can see you are two completely different ponies. Try to open the journal for me, and do not worry. I will not let you come to harm.” Lyra chuckled and reached out with her magic towards the book. She knew Twilight, and if Twilight wanted to place a trap on a book there was little even an alicorn could do to bypass it. As she pulled the book over the cover lifted easily. “That wasn’t so hard.” “Celestia believes Twilight left you this journal so you could pick up where she left off. I, on the other hoof, believe she left it so you would know why she did what she did. We were not able to risk opening the tome without triggering an enchantment designed to incinerate it.” Luna looked over at the book as Lyra flipped through the pages. “Looks like all pages but the first are blank.” “What was written on it?” Turning back to the front page revealed the first stanza to a lullaby. A chill went down Lyra’s spine as she recognized it. “This is the lullaby I had intended to play Twilight the night she captured me.” “It may be a further protection. Can you play it for me?” Luna asked. “I don’t have my lyre.” Luna smiled and levitated a lyre out from under the table. The frame looked like a flawless marble, housing silver strings between it. They caught the moonlight and sparkled, and the gentle breeze in the room caused faint notes to sound from it. “I expected you might need one.” Lyra laughed and lifted up the lyre. “Always one step ahead of the rest of us? Well, I’ll play the song but if it turns me back into a doll you have to promise to play with me every day.” Now it was the princess’ turn to chuckle. Her horn began to glow as she prepared to intervene if any enchantments were triggered. The notes of the lyre started softly and beautifully. The light of the moon pouring through the window flickered and danced across the floor, matching the rhythm of the lullaby. For a tense minute they sat there, listening to the beautiful serenade. Once it was done they both looked at the book expectantly only for nothing to happen. “I suppose that would have been too easy,” Luna intoned. “Yeah, unless. . .” Lyra chewed on her lip and looked between the book and the lyre. If Twilight had wanted to ensure only Lyra could read it—for whatever reason—she would have needed a better enchantment than playing a simple melody. Something only Lyra would remember would be best. “I think it has to be played in the room of the library where Twilight captured me.” “You can’t be serious! You want to walk back into her library with an enchanted book and play that song?” “What’s the worst that can happen? I’m starting to think you’re right, she wanted me to find and read this. She needed something only I could open. The exact place, musician, and song would be a perfect key.” “Very well then, I’ll fetch a carriage for us.” “That won’t be necessary, I’ve been dying to try out long distance teleportation,” Lyra said. Luna’s eyes went wide in surprise. “That requires a great deal of energy, and you’ve barely mastered teleporting across a room.” “I have a feeling that this book may hold clues to her whereabouts. If I’m going looking for her, I need to know I can get out if I absolutely have to.” “Alright, after you.” Lyra smirked and put a saddlebag on, inserting the lyre and book inside. Her horn glowed and she let her mind go blank, taking extra time to ensure the spell formed properly. In her mind’s eye she pictured the room she was in, then the atrium of the library in Ponyville. She imagined a doorway joining both rooms that she could step through, to travel the distance in one step. The most challenging part came next. She imagined the various arcane sigils and drew upon magical conduits to open the door. As soon as the door opened she could see and smell the library, as if it were inches in front of her face. Her energy was draining quickly, as opening a teleportation spell required manipulating several dimensions at once. Lyra struggled to take a step forward, feeling as though her body was surrounded by molasses. She could feel her horn shutting down as it ran out of energy and began to protect itself from the spell when her magic depleted. At the last second, Lyra dove forward and felt her entire body get stretched and then smashed back together. The wooden floor of the library appeared and she landed face-first on it, toppling into the nearby wall. Her muscles ached in protest, yet in her mind she was already celebrating. She got to her hooves and stood up, only to feel so exhausted she fell onto her haunches. Lyra focused on her breathing and letting the magic flow back into her, to deplete her energy stores. In front of her the oak flooring had been scorched black where she’d teleported in.. Luna materialized a moment later as well. She looked around with unease because the library was exactly as they had left it. By royal decree, it was not to be disturbed and was still considered an active crime scene. “Amazing, Lyra. You nearly got flung across my room when at the last second you pulled it off.” Lyra rubbed at her nose, seeing a little blood trickling from it. “Yeah. Well, I hit this end pretty hard. At least I know if I get into trouble in the Everfree, I can fling myself towards Ponyville or Canterlot to get out.” “You make teleporting sound like a trebuchet.” “And I’m not wrong, from what I’ve seen so far. Distance is easy, but accuracy may take a lifetime to master.” Lyra levitated out the lyre and book and placed them in the middle of the room. In front of her was the table she had sat at with Twilight. “Well, no time like the present.” Luna nodded and the lyrist began to play the lullaby in the room. Immediately the book floated off the ground and was engulfed in a purple hue. It sparkled and cracked as the song progressed, and Lyra noticed it shared none of the green tint that Twilight’s magic had taken on. She had no time to ponder the significance of this when the song stopped and the book fell to the floor. “Fascinating, I thought for sure that would work,” Luna said. Lyra walked up and opened to the second page. “It did work. See?” Luna walked over and shuffled through a few pages. “It still looks blank to me.” “I can read it as plain as day.” Lyra turned back to the first page. “Here, allow me.” Dear Diary, Celestia suggested I start a diary to express my emotions, as if they were something I could scientifically quantify. My brother is dead, forever, because I failed to act. I could have gone on the boring mission with him as an Ambassador. Instead, I stayed here to research the long-term effects of earth pony magic on growing crops. It’d be bad enough losing him, but the pain hasn’t faded one bit and it’s been weeks. Applejack is the only one who I think understands; since she lost both her parents as a filly. Still, it’s applebuck season so she can’t make it over much more often than once a week. The others are. . . well, they’re living their own lives now. Dash is finally trying out for the Wonderbolts and practices sixteen hours a day. Pinkie has been throwing parties from here to the rock farm she grew up on. Fluttershy is sheltering three times as many animals now as when I came to town. Rarity is trying to open a boutique in Canterlot. I should be happy that they are moving on with their lives and being successful, but all I can think about is why they aren’t here for me. Is that selfish? It hurts so much and I feel so guilty laying it on Spike every day. He always listens, but I can’t help but wonder where my friends are. Nightmare Moon, Discord, Sombra, Chrysalis. . . my friends have always been here to help me face every obstacle in my life. Now when I need them most, they all have different schedules and can hardly visit. What worries me more is that this was just one tragedy. How will I cope with death after they’re gone? Me and Spike are the only ones who will live as long as the princesses. I’ll have to ask Celestia during my visit tomorrow how she handles loss, having lived several millennia and lost thousands of subjects. During that I’ll be there to attempt to comfort Cadence. As horrible as I feel, I can’t imagine how she must. Her domain is love, and she loved nopony as much as Shining. I’ve heard rumors she can no longer cast her signature magic to mend broken hearts. She’s more than a foalsitter or sister-in-law, she’s my closest and only family. Her and I will face eternity together, and I’m determined to hide my own sorrow long enough to comfort her. -Twilight Sparkle Luna sat silently for a few minutes, processing the journal entry. Finally Lyra broke the silence. “I, uh, need some water.” She got up and walked into the kitchen and pulled a glass out of the cupboard like she was in anypony else’s house. Lyra walked to the fridge and pushed it against the water dispenser. It was set to ice, and instead of water a torrent of ice cubes shot out, knocking the glass to the floor. “Perhaps we should get water somewhere else?” Luna asked. “I still feel so much negative energy here.” “I guess so. Let me just grab that glass from under the fridge.” Lyra leaned over to find the glass and couldn’t see where it had gone too. She used her horn to illuminate the underside of the fridge. Amidst the scattering cockroaches and glass cup she had dropped was a colorful object towards the back. It took Lyra a moment to realize the familiar sight of a pony turned into a doll, yet covered by a layer of dust was the old dental hygienist of Ponyville, Crest. Lyra pulled the doll out and held it in the air in front of Luna. “Look, somehow she missed a doll. This is horrible.” “I can’t believe it.” Crest stared out at her newest hallucinations. She had thought of a million ways she’d been rescued and been wrong a million times. Her favorite was how the cute mail stallion would rescue her. Swift Package, the one pony she had always wished would ask her out on a date. He would find her and break the curse with a kiss. They would start a family and live happily ever after. She laughed inwardly as she watched the two ponies talking. She couldn’t hear them, nor did she care. Crest would wake up back under the fridge, just like every other time. She was just a toy, and her dreams of being a real pony were just that: dreams. “Luna, allow me. I’d like to know I’ve got the transformation spell mastered,” Lyra said. “After the teleport, do you have that much energy left?” Lyra nodded to the open window and the moonlight pouring through it. “With the full moon and your gift? I think so.” Crest felt funny. This had never happened before in her hallucinations. All she had ever felt was the bite of the cold and the tickling of the dust that settled onto her side. For months she had wanted to sneeze but been unable. All those sensations fled her as Crest felt the most alien and painful sensation of them all: warmth. Crest felt like she was on fire. It was too warm, and her body felt like jelly. She froze in terror, wishing it would stop. It was a lie, another trick. The pain hurt more than the realization she’d never be found by anypony. Luna fired up her horn to scan her and find out if the spell had worked. Crest wanted to cry but knew she couldn’t. There were painful movements in her chest as her body convculsed. It shouldn’t move. It wasn’t supposed to move. Toys don’t move. The thudding of some organ inside her burned in agony. It was responsible for the warm tingling she was feeling in her limbs. It was the organ torturing her with lies and false hope of an end to the cold lonely nights. “She’s perfectly fine, but not moving,” Luna explained. “Crest, it’s me, Lyra? Are you okay?” She heard the pony talk to her and felt her chest stop moving. Her eyes and ears rotated towards the unicorn. She began to feel another pain in her chest which only stopped once she allowed it to start moving again. “Crest?” Lyra put a hoof on her shoulder and patted her. She felt the hoof push into her tender, soft flesh, and lost control. She was plastic. Plastic is hard. Plastic doesn’t move or talk or feel. “Get back! This is another trick!” Crest screamed. She spasmed and found her alien limbs moving beneath her. Seconds later she had scurried towards the fridge. She was too big to fit under it, but tried anyway. Crest was stuck out here, vulnerable, the safety of the fridge forever out of reach. “I don’t think she took her imprisonment well,” Luna said. “We best get her to medical attention.” “Lies, lies! Twenty-three years and twenty-three days of lies! Come back in twenty-three hours!” Crest kicked out her hind legs and managed to slide her head a little further under the fridge. “The sandman isn’t coming for tea, stallions need larger spoons for their oatmeal!” “Lyra, hold on. I’m teleporting us to the throne room,” Luna explained. There was a brilliant silver flash, and the three ponies, the lyre, and the book were teleported into Celestia’s room in Canterlot. The princess of the sun woke up immediately, finding three ponies standing at the foot of her bed. “Luna?” she asked, groggily. “Sister, we have rescued another pony and opened Twilight’s journal,” Luna explained. “They keep talking, they don’t know. They can only hear the colors they have been given,” Crest said. She dove under the bed, vanishing beneath it before anypony could stop her. “What the hell?” Celestia said. “Did you botch the spell?” “She’s been trapped for months, Tia. I fear she needs medical attention.” “Very well. And what’s this about the journal?” “Lyra unlocked it, though it is still enchanted only to allow her to read it.” “Luna!” Celestia got out of bed and frowned. “I told you not to let her near it!” “And I told you we are of equal rank, and having tried every other option I would take responsibility for showing Lyra.” “Lyra, get out. I’m going to have some words with my sister.” Without waiting Celestia turned to face Luna. “You had no right, Luna!” “Lyra is not Twilight! Now, let us sleep and talk of this on the morrow—” “Oh no, you don’t!” “Tia, please. I’ve been covering the day court, giving you time to mourn, but you’re still irrational.” Celestia’s horn glowed, causing the sun to rise early. “Me? Irrational? Oh no, I’m just fine!” Lyra had inched her way to the door and backed up through it, closing it behind her. She looked over to the two guards in golden armor. “Ma’am,” the guard said, “they okay?” “Yeah,” Lyra said. “Still some old wounds festering, but I have faith Celestia and Luna will get past them together.” Twilight poured some more tea for Fluttershy. “Please, tell me if you can taste this one. I worked hard on the spell to restore more of your senses.” Fluttershy no longer had a plastic shell of a body, and instead had individual strands of plastic hair. They mimicked her old mane and tail perfectly. An artificial peach fuzz covered her body, replacing the fur. As reward for their good behavior, Twilight had chosen to test her ever-improving grasp on immortality magic on her closest friends. She took a sip of the tea and was able to taste a hint of bitterness and sourness to it. “It, um, worked. I can taste bitter and sour in it.” “And you can still taste sweetness?” Twilight asked. “Yes, that only leaves, um. . . salty?” “This is great news! Soon you’ll have a full sense of taste. I’m sure everypony will be happy if I can make them feel more normal.” Beside Fluttershy sat Pinkie and Big Mac. This trio, along with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, had become the first of a new group of ponies to embrace Twilight as a friend. While their captor still held reservations about them, her mood had improved considerably. Unfortunately, the rest of the town was still being punished for their attempt of escape and murder. Twilight left them wandering around without their mouths, unable to talk to one another and thus conspire against her. She had also forbidden them to be outside their houses at all during the artificial night time. The small gem in the ceiling would simulate sunlight during the daytime to help them mark the passage of time. Pinkie walked up to Twilight and hugged her foreleg. “This is super duper! And with how tiny my cupcake oven is and how much flour you brought, I can now bake cupcakes for every single pony for years! They’ll be so happy to taste cupcakes!” Twilight grinned and pet Pinkie. “Yes, but I’ll only improve the doll spell for the good ponies. The bad ponies can stay as plastic, barely able to taste or feel. The good ponies will get nicer and nicer, until I’ve preserved you all in mint condition.” “Can you make me bigger so I can give you a superific hug?” Pinkie asked. A frown crossed her face as she considered whether or not a life-size Pinkie could overpower her. “I, uh. . . only trust Big Mac to be that big. Sorry, Pinkie, he’s the only one I know would never hurt me.” Pinkie’s mane straightened out. “Aww, shucks. I’d never hurt you, Twilight. I feel really bad that I didn’t make you happy all those months ago in Ponyville. I bet if I had tried harder, you would never have turned anypony into dolls.” “Pinkie, we’ve been over this. You’re not allowed to talk about the real Ponyville, Celestia, Luna, Cadence, or Shining,” Twilight warned. “They put me in a bad mood, and you wouldn’t like me when I’m in a bad mood.” Pinkie backed up and sat next to Fluttershy. “Sorry! I Pinkie promise to be more careful. So, now that us three are super-dolls, are you going to do the crusaders next?” “I guess so. Where are they anyway?” Twilight asked. Fluttershy blushed and looked away. “They, uh. . . are playing with their friend.” “Oh really? Which friend?” Twilight asked. “There aren’t many fillies in town, I kept meaning to capture some more for them.” "It's Silver Spoon." Twilight moaned. “Oh? I’ve been wondering what they did to her.” “It wasn’t them, but Rarity threaded strings through Silver to turn her into a puppet. She’s been, um. . . Well, I don’t really like to hang out with Rarity anymore.” Rarity was asleep at the boutique while Sweetie and Apple Bloom sat in the basement, watching Silver dangle from the ceiling by half a dozen threads. “Ah don’t know why we keep debatin’ it, look at her. She killed my sister!” Apple Bloom exclaimed. “She deserves what she gets.” Silver hung from the strings, flailing her legs occasionally but getting nowhere. Her mouth had also been sealed shut by the spell that swept over the town. She had spent her days since being captured as a piñata for Rarity, Dash, and Apple Bloom to take their stress out on. They were the three least forgiving of her role as co-conspirator and murderer of Applejack. “Look at her,” Sweetie said. She pointed to the filly who was whimpering pathetically. “Your sister was honesty, and since she’s dead I bet you’re the Element of Honesty now. So tell me, is this what Applejack would have wanted? You think she’d have done this to Silver?” “Well, ah ain’t gonna just forgive her. Besides, she’s not even a real pony anymore, so I can treat her however I want. . . right?” Sweetie pulled out a pair of scissors and dropped them in front of Apple Bloom. “Look, all we’ve got is each other. I’m not saying you have to forgive her, but we can’t just keep torturing her for fun. Otherwise we’re no better than Twilight. You’ve seen the others: Rarity is no longer generous, Dash no longer loyal, your sister is dead. . . Twilight is the one who is truly tearing everypony apart.” Apple Bloom sighed and looked at the scissors on the floor. After a minute of thinking carefully, she took the scissors in her mouth and went over to Silver, then cut her down. She thudded to the floor, then grabbed Apple Bloom and hugged her. Wet tears stained her cheek as Silver cried, glad to have finally been spared her torture yet unable to voice the words. “This don’t mean ah forgive you, but ah can’t honestly justify anypony suffering,” Apple Bloom said. “That was very generous of you. Now, why don’t we take her to the clubhouse where she’ll be safe, and maybe we’ll have another one of those dreams about Scootaloo tonight?” Sweetie asked. “Yeah, those flashes are strange. Remind me to ask Twilight if we’re s’posed ta be dreamin’ or not. Let’s go before Rarity wakes up.” Lyra was back in her favorite meadow, overlooking the vast reaches of forest beneath Canterlot. Earlier today Celestia had confiscated the book, though agreed that it was a good thing Lyra had unlocked it. They would look for clues in the journal once Celestia was convinced it was safe enough.  Now, Lyra’s hoof was curled around the foreleg of her special somepony, Soarin. “Celestia calmed down after Luna explained. They both tried to help Crest, but the doctor said he had no choice but to commit her to Broadhoof Asylum,” Lyra stated. “At least you found her. I can’t imagine being stuck as a doll, unable to move, for months. Please, Lyra, are you really going to go looking for Twilight when your training is done?” Soarin asked. “You know my answer. The second I’m confident in my abilities, I have a duty to all those ponies we left behind.” “Including Twilight?” Lyra sighed. “Yeah. Someone has to, she is the victim as much as the villain: all alone out there without a friend in the world.” “Well, if I can’t change your mind then I want you to make me a promise.” She rolled her head to the side to look into his eyes. “Yeah? What’s that?” “Promise me, no matter what, you’ll make it back alive. I’ve never planned to do more than be a Wonderbolt, but since I’ve met you I’ve been a much happier stallion. I can’t stand the thought of losing you.” Lyra began to blush, then leaned in to kiss him. She parted his lips and probed his mouth with her tongue, enjoying the taste of his saliva. Once she withdrew, she answered him. “I’ve never been as happy as I am now with you. Not even with Bon Bon. . .” Soarin saw her mood shift as she looked away, remembering a long-lost best friend. He nuzzled her side and hugged her. “Hey, let’s just enjoy this lovely sunset.” “You’re right.” She cuddled up next to him and looked at the setting sun. “And after that you can come back to my room in the palace for some hot coffee.” “Hmm.” Soarin looked off into the distance. “It’s awfully late for some coffee.” “Seriously?” She poked him in the ribs with her foreleg. “What about some of my pie?” Soarin couldn’t hide his grin any longer, and looked back at Lyra. “Well, I do love pie.” As he kissed her the wind rustled through the wildflowers beside them.