Six mares descended into the basement. Most were hesitant to take each step, as though wondering what terrible knowledge awaited them at the bottom. They expected blood spatter, or an assault by a mad spellcaster. They expected to find great ritual circles carved into the floor.
What they had not expected was for the basement to be brightly lit, cheerful, and tidy, or as tidy as one could expect from Rainbow Dash.
“Look, Miss Sparkle!” she said excitedly as she zipped around the room. “I made my bed...” An examination table much like those in Ponyville's hospital stood near the corner, made up neatly with a pillow and a thick blanket. “I didn't leave garbage lying around like I used to...” Aside from some crumbs, the countertops were clear of food and clutter. “I even organized my books!” A pile of Daring Do novels sat in a crooked pile next to the head of the makeshift bed, atop a well-loved algebra textbook that looked to have gathered a week's dust. Rainbow Dash landed beside the volumes and pranced around her bed. “Did I do a good job?” she asked happily. “I did, didn't I?”
Twilight frowned.
Rainbow immediately froze in place and stared around the room. “Oh, ponyfeathers. What did I forget?”
“How could somepony set this up without anypony noticing?” the unicorn said thoughtfully.
Her pegasus smiled, but it was a hair too wide to be natural. “Well, maybe 'they' are just that smart,” she replied.
A pink wave of magic wiped the crumbs from her counters into a nearby bin before her addled friend could spot them.
“This is quite... cozy,” Rarity said from the stairwell. “However did you put this together, Rainbow Dash?”
“It was like this when I got here.” She bounced onto the bed and rested her head on her hooves. “Miss Sparkle said I deserved to have my own room.” She eyed Twilight, but her gaze shifted for a moment to the equipment on the far wall. “I... She said I was being really good when I left. Isn't that right, Miss Sparkle?”
Twilight shook her head and walked toward her machines.
“Didn't you say that?” her once-confident friend said hurriedly. “Didn't you say I deserved a reward when you got back?”
The wispier of the two pegasi fluttered to her side. “Don't be scared, Rainbow Dash,” she cooed. “I think we're only using one machine today and I'm sure it won't hurt at all.”
“Yeah,” Pinkie agreed as Twilight began flicking switches and checking joints on one of the smaller machines. “I remember that one. It's like getting your vision checked at the doctor's, only cooler!”
“But– But I don't want the headaches to come back,” Rainbow whined. She trembled as a low hum began to reverberate from the walls. “These machines hurt so bad!”
The pink filly smiled. “Nuh-uh, silly-willy. That one wasn't bad at all.”
“Rainbow Dash, can you get down from there, please?” Twilight called. “It's time to start the first test.”
“Oh,” Fluttershy muttered. “I'm sorry. I thought... How many tests are there?”
“As many as it takes!” the unicorn said with determination.
The prismatic pony lowered her forehooves to the floor, then stumbled as she pulled her back legs down behind her. “Please...”
“Come on, Rainbow Dash.” Twilight pointed to the cream-colored metal framework, or more specifically to the black plastic stirrup sitting just higher than Rainbow's head. “Just stand there and place your chin here. This machine and I will do the rest.”
“Come on, Dashie, you can do it!” Pinkie cheered.
Applejack crinkled her nose. “Jeez, RD, you ain't never been scared of a little check-up before.”
“This is totally different,” she whimpered as she slowly approached the machine. It was of an intimidating height to the little pegasus, and that muted color scheme reminded her of the nurse's office at flight camp.
“Come on, Rainbow,” Twilight repeated, eyes fixed on hers. She tapped the equipment's top gently. “Up in the chinrest.”
“Yes, Miss Sparkle,” she acquiesced. After a long, deep breath she bolted toward it and threw her forelegs onto its top. She lowered her chin into place with only a second's hesitation. The machine felt colder than ice to Rainbow's hypersensitive skin.
“Good,” her unicorn smiled. Rainbow tried to smile back but only managed a twisted grimace. “Now, I'm going to check for interactions between the magic and specific parts of your brain, specifically the cerebral cortex, basal ganglia and hippocampus.”
Gales of laughter interrupted her train of thought. “The dangly whatnow?” Pinkie giggled.
Twilight snorted in frustration. “I said 'basal'– Never mind.” Using a pair of twist handles she adjusted two of the machine's arms until they rested snugly against her subject's temples. “Comfortable?” she asked.
“No,” Rainbow whined.
Twilight leaned her head back to look her friend in the eyes. “Are you just saying that because you don't want me to turn this machine on?”
She lowered her gaze to the floor. “Y-Yeah...”
“Well, I'm sorry, but we have to do this.” She swung a pair of large black arms into their places in front of the pegasus's face and adjusted little glass-tipped fixtures upon their ball joints until each was pointed at the center of an eye. “Okay. Ready?”
The patient bit her lip and shivered. “I don't know!”
“Is she going to be okay?” asked Fluttershy.
“Yes, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash is going to be fine!” Twilight groaned. “Can we just get on with it?” She glared at the other ponies around the room. “Any objections? No?” Applejack shook her head. “Good.”
Rainbow squeezed her eyes shut and bared her teeth in fear. “But I love you,” she choked out.
“I love you too, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said softly, but even from her lips the words of comfort sounded hollow to the pegasus. “That's why we have to run these tests. They won't hurt you.” With that she gripped a large red lever in her horn's glow. “Three... Open your eyes, Rainbow Dash.” The lids pried themselves apart, revealing cerise and violet and a pale bloodshot pink. “Two...”
A low weeping filled the room. Everypony froze.
“Rainbow Dash?” Pinkie said quietly. “Are you okay?”
“She's not okay,” Fluttershy whimpered.
Rainbow stood bare before them for the first time, her ever-stoic facade ripped away by her fear. She stood before them with her hooves gripping the sides of the framework tightly and her wings tucked close to her body. She stood with ears low and tears tracking lines down her cheeks and neck, her brightly-colored tail tucked limply against her thigh. Her lips were drawn back until they pinched and creased her eyes at the outer corners. The unpracticed wail was low-pitched, an endless shaking moan that cut through five mares like a bonesaw, tearing into their very cores and placing within each of them a piece of her sorrow.
Twilight stared up at her, and she stared right back. Neither moved.
Somepony shuffled their hooves and scratched the back of her head. “Look, I can't... Twilight?” It took the unicorn a second to tear her gaze away and look to the pony calling for her attention. Applejack looked at her flatly. “No machines today, Twi.” She turned away and trotted toward her friend, who sagged limply in the machine's grip like a sackcloth doll. Her music didn't subside.
“But we have to know!” Twilight insisted. Her magic made no move to lower the lever.
“Isn't there something else you can do?” Rarity pleaded, her voice trembling with emotion. “This is positively heartbreaking!”
“But what if her fear is a side effect of the spell?” she tried. “What if this was their plan all along?”
Five pairs of wide and damp eyes gazed soulfully at the unicorn at the lever. After a moment she lowered her head and the glow dissipated. “I guess we could... we could try a deep thaumatic reading,” Twilight offered. “It won't give us the kind of results we could get from this test, though.”
Applejack twisted the handle above Rainbow's left temple until it pulled away from her coat. “Any result is good enough for me.”
She shook her head. “Come on down, Rainbow Dash,” she muttered. With conflicting emotions she watched the pegasus pull her head from the chinrest and collapse onto her friend's muscular shoulder, sniffling and blinking furiously. “I still feel as though we're playing into their hooves...”
“So what?” Applejack gave her friend's back a few tender pats.
“It's worthwhile just to ease Rainbow Dash's suffering,” Rarity added. Her horn began to glow with its blue light. “After all it's not as though we're helpless without these machines, is it?”
“No, I guess we're not,” the other unicorn agreed with a relieved smile.
“Well then, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity said professionally, “I'm going to delve into your mind. This may feel strange at first–”
Rainbow pushed away from Applejack to stand proudly upon her own four hooves. “Yeah, yeah,” the pegasus said smoothly, scrubbing her hoof across her cheek to hide the dampness. “Go for it, Rarity. I'm not scared of a little test.”
AJ chuckled and wrapped a foreleg around her withers. “Yup, she's still our Rainbow.” The prismatic pony smiled back; the fire had returned to her eyes.
Rarity shook her mane and allowed herself a little smile. “I'm happy to hear it. Now, sit down, hold still, and don't panic.”
Rainbow trotted toward her, making sure to pass close to Twilight on the way. “Thanks, Miss Sparkle,” she whispered.
“What for?”
She paused in mid-stride. “For changing your mind,” she said. “Thanks for listening.”
Twilight smiled. “You're welcome, Rainbow Dash.” She gestured toward the waiting unicorn. “Please, have a seat.”
The two ponies sat on their haunches and faced each other, eyes closed. Rainbow cracked hers open to glance about for Twilight, then settled herself with a sigh of contentment. The air around them seemed to fill with tension and an atmospheric static charge as Rarity's aura grew brighter and bridged the gap between her horn and her patient's forehead; its intensity darkened the area around them as its color clashed with the white and orange rays from the lamps around them.
Suddenly Rarity's calm smile twisted. “Hm,” she muttered.
“What'd you find?” Pinkie whispered loudly.
“Shh.” Her head tilted to the left as if she was trying to see something from another angle. “Hm... That's...” The light faded away, returning the pegasus's coat to its usual sky-blue hue, and Rarity's eyes sprang open. “It's so strong,” she breathed.
“What'd you find?” Twilight said excitedly.
“There is certainly a hypnotic enchantment upon her,” Rarity said slowly. “I could feel it... such strong feelings of love and need... The eye... It was connected to the rest. It's the same spell.” She shivered. “I couldn't tell if it is the focus of the spell or not. The details were rather hazy.”
Rainbow Dash laughed in her face. “Jeez, Rarity, tell us something we don't know!” she jeered.
The unicorn gave her a pink-cheeked frown. “I'm sorry, Rainbow Dash,” she said defensively, “but I didn't expect your mind to be such a mess!”
Twilight trotted forth and plopped down beside the other unicorn. “Let me try!” she offered, unable to keep the enthusiasm from her voice.
“You are the more experienced of us,” Rarity mused. “Perhaps your connection to the spell could help as well.”
“It's possible,” Twilight agreed. “Ready, Rainbow?”
“Ready!” her pegasus grinned.
With that she fired up her horn and immediately delved in.
Compared to the other ponies whose minds and bodies she'd delved into – her brother, a few courtiers, Princess Celestia – Rainbow Dash was muddier than a shallow pond after a heavy rain. Undeterred, Twilight allowed her mind's eye to sink deeper and deeper. She soon realized that the fog she forged through wasn't like that of the average pony. It was a greasy sheen of emotion that coated Rainbow's thoughts, and Twilight could feel a sharp but comforting warmth radiating from it. “So this is what it feels like,” she sighed. Beside her, Rarity smirked. “It feels wonderful.”
“It's just an enchantment, Twilight,” her friend reminded her.
“I know,” she muttered. “That doesn't make it any less exhilarating.” A pair of hooves found her own and she clasped them tightly. “Come closer...”
Twilight pushed herself deeper into Rainbow Dash. Her experience with the procedure gave her the scaffolding to formulate a map of Rainbow Dash's mind and body, and soon she began to reach familiar territory. Masses and constructs began to solidify in the darkness as she built the world around her, taking shape according to Twilight's own subconscious preconstructions. She orbited with rapt fascination around a giant eyeball complete with an optic nerve that disappeared down into the darkness, but when she finally reached its top she found herself looking down upon the huge cerise ring of Rainbow Dash's own iris. Disappointed, she floated off toward the place she knew the other eye would be waiting.
She'd predicted it correctly; another sphere appeared beneath her hooves in no time at all. She didn't bother with her filly's games this time. As she scaled the orb she felt the void around her warming, driving her to quicken her pace.
Soon she arrived at the summit. This high, she knew that the spell's heat should have been uncomfortable, even excruciating. Twilight ignored it and looked down upon another pink iris, but this time something was different.
The fog was thickest here. She could see through it clearly, but still it clouded her vision. “What is this feeling?” she wondered aloud. “Why is it so foggy here?”
Twilight blinked down at the eye. It winked back like a camera's shutter. Twilight giggled and stroked its surface. “It's not violet...”
As if in response to her words, pockmarks appeared in its surface and gushed forth a viscous purple oil. She recoiled with a shriek of delight.
“Twilight, focus!” she heard somepony say.
She reached out a hoof and poked the goop. It was so hot... “Rainbow Dash?”
“Rarity,” said Rarity.
“Rarity!” The gravity of the situation rushed back to her, leaving her shamed and uncertain. “I'm at the eye,” she stammered, ignoring the heat on her cheeks. “The fog is thick here. I can't make out exactly what the spell is, but I can feel...” She waved her hooves in search of the right word.
“What is it?”
“It's complex,” she said. “It's not an effect the average unicorn would be able to create without a focus or a catalyst.”
“Oh, why can't it ever be easy?” her friend's disembodied voice whined. “Why is it that every time we face a villain I must wind up feeling utterly useless?”
“The eye seems to be oozing something,” Twilight continued. “I can't tell if it's physical, magical or metaphorical. Is it a direct effect of the spell, or is it chemical in origin? If the latter, is it the chemicals of a potion or a more basic chemical reaction caused by the magic spell? What if the entire effect is caused by hundreds of tiny chemical interactions in the brain that–”
“Twilight,” Rarity said loudly. “Twilight, you're rambling again.”
The librarian stopped herself short. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Um... Hold on. I'm going to try to find the source of the spell.” She stepped forward and fell into the eye.
Down she traveled, through the optic nerve and across its chiasma to the cortex of the occipital lobes Along the way she passed streams or globules of purple dye, or whatever it was that affected her friend's appearance. “I'm entering the brain,” she said. “It's still warm, but not terribly so...” She crossed the threshold into the frontal lobe.
Heat flashed against her muzzle, making her physical body flinch.
“What was that?” Rarity asked nervously.
The warmth was so welcoming. “It's hot... It's...”
“Can you tell what kind of magic this is?”
“It's glorious...”
“Twilight?” somepony said. She tuned it out.
There was more than warmth here. Lights, flashing lights shimmering and sparkling in the distance...
“Twilight, get out of there,” a voice pleaded. “What if it's tuned to you enough to affect you?”
“Is she going to end up like Rainbow Dash?”
“Calm down, Fluttershy. She know's what she's doing... right?”
“Pull out, Twilight! Pull out!”
They were all just voices.
“It's...”
The warmth was a crystalline nightscape upon the inside of Rainbow's skull, a network of flashing webbing crawling across and through the crannies of her brain.
It was beautiful, it was...
“...O-overwhelming...”
Twilight reached toward the light...
Somepony tapped her horn.