Noon came and went, but Twilight didn’t move from her spot at the table. She was surrounded by discarded sheets of parchment, used up quills, and every book on emotive magic she possessed. Her quill, floating in a purple aura, sketched her latest attempt to explain where everything went wrong.
“So let’s see: Rarity bursts in, Spike gets a big emotional surge, and it transfers to Rarity. It must’ve hit the plant too. Now how did Spike get my love of reading? It’s almost like–”
She yawned and quickly shook herself awake. “Ugh. Feeling tired is definitely from Spike. I’d better add that in too.”
Her diagram gained a few more lines, then more, and then more. Her heart quickened; she could almost see the solution. If she could just keep her focus for a few more minutes she’d have this all sorted out before dinner. She reached for a fresh sheet of parchment which, to her surprise, wasn’t there.
“Was that really a hundred already? Spike?”
There was no response. Normally he’d have refilled her parchment and ink supplies an hour ago, not to mention pestering her about getting out of the library for a change. What had the spell done to him now?
She glanced over at a highlighted passage in the nearest book. She’d underlined the word “exactness” twice. That’s how the great unicorn scholars summed up the challenge of performing emotive magic: the need for exactness. She’d studied every warning and taken every precaution, all except for locking the library door before they started, unfortunately.
The book went on to describe the precarious situation that could result from a miscast emotive spell, going so far as to use the phrase “magic explosion” several times. The slightest mistake, like allowing Rarity to express the feelings Spike hadn’t been able to, could mean disaster.
“It’s still okay. I just need to focus. I almost have it figured out. If I can just–”
A leaf dropped onto her nose. She brushed it away and sneezed. “Where did that come from… oh.”
All she needed to do was look up. Wild vines were overtaking the ceiling, all of them covered in sunflowers.
“Spike!”
She heard a bump from the next room over, followed by the all-too-familiar sound of stacked books tumbling to the ground.
At last Spike entered the room. “I’m here. What’s wrong? Did you have a breakthrough? What are you look at up–whoa.”
“The spell’s effects are getting worse. I need to you run down to The Carousel Boutique before we lose the whole library to that plant.”
“What’s the Boutique have that’s going to get rid of those vines? Sharp scissors?”
“Better: my latest test subject.”
---
A half hour later, there were three chalk circles on the ground and a test subject in each one. The plant had laid permanent claim to the middle circle; thick green vines and giant yellow sunflowers covered the floor, walls, and ceiling.
Rarity pushed the nearest vine aside. “Could we hurry this along, Twilight? Some of us still have preparations to make for tomorrow.”
She looked over at Spike and batted her eyelashes.
Spike took a quick peek over the book he was reading. “Uh… yeah. Any time now, Twilight.”
Twilight had surrounded herself with a flowing wall of parchment sheets, partly to help her focus, and partly to hide her bloodshot eyes from Rarity. Explaining her exhaustion was yet another risk she couldn’t avoid taking.
Rarity cleared her throat. “Twilight, if you please?”
“I’m almost done. I have to make sure this is absolutely right before we start. I’m sorry this is taking you away from your… preparations, Rarity.”
“Anything for a friend, darling, of course. I’ll manage, although I must say I’ve had the hardest time completing my orders this morning. There just seems to be something… missing from my creative vision.”
Twilight’s wall of parchment collapsed on top of her. “Could… could you repeat that?”
Rarity stared at Spike and smiled. “I suppose I’ve just been distracted by a certain somepony, or should I say somedragon.”
Spike attempted to hide his whole body behind his book. “You… um… you don’t say.”
Twilight fished around for a clean piece of parchment. “That changes everything! So Spike gave Rarity and the plant… something. Spike gave me the sleepiness. I gave Spike reading… So where did Rarity’s creative vision go?”
Rarity tore her eyes off of Spike for the first time in twenty minutes. “Go? Whatever do you mean?”
“It’s… complicated. If I explain, I might make this whole thing worse. Just stay in your circles until I can recalc–”
Books flew across the vine-covered room, and Spike let out a scream. “Twilight, help!”
She glanced up from her notes to see Rarity’s hooves around him. His frantic struggle to escape was useless against her magic-infused grip.
“I can’t help it any more, Spikey. I need to admit something to you, and it can’t wait a moment–”
Twilight teleported herself into the middle of their forced embrace. Spike flew across the room while Rarity found herself with Twilight’s hoof over her mouth. “Stop it! You can’t tell him now, not before I cast the spell.”
“But I must! I can’t stand to keep it bottled up, to stand idly by his side while my own feelings–”
“If you tell him, it’d be a disaster… uh… I mean… it’d be a disaster if you did it before tomorrow. It’s going to be Hearts and Hooves Day, right? You couldn’t ask for a better day to let it all come out. If you hurry, you could still buy that… that lucky pony or dragon the perfect gift. Who says it has to be hoofmade?”
Rarity’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re right! The perfect gift for him undoubtedly transcends my own base creations. I’ll spare no expense!”
Rarity galloped down the stairs before Twilight could protest. New flowers bloomed as she passed by.
Spike groaned. “What’s gotten into her? She’s nice and all, but–”
“Let’s not go into it right now; I need to figure out this new variables, and fast.”
“Take your time and relax, Twilight. I’ve gotten more reading done today than… well, ever. I’ve never enjoyed books so much. Not just the fiction either; I’m halfway through that awesome History of Philosophy book, and I just started the chapter on transponyism.”
She shook her head. “There’s no time for reading. I need more parchment and ink. Lots of it.”
“Why don’t you take a nap first? You look exhausted.”
She sank to the ground and covered her eyes. “I am. I really am.”
He came closer and patted her on the back. “Just close your eyes for a little bit. I do it all the time. You can keep working after you wake up, and I’ll help you… assuming Rarity hasn’t dragon-napped me or something.”
“Can’t sleep. Must fix spell.”
“Why’s this so important, anyway? You’re always ragging on me about getting enough sleep.”
“Let’s just say you gave Rarity something, and she’s a lot less stable with it than you ever were.”
“Since when did I ever give her anything?”
She pointed at the staircase. “Parchment. Ink. Lots of it. Go.”