//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 // Story: Withdrawal // by Raugos //------------------------------// Dear Princess Celestia, Remember what I said about my role as a princess before this whole mess began – the part about just smiling and waving? Well, I would like to officially withdraw that complaint and apologise for making it in the first place. Smiling and waving when I feel like I have every reason to do the opposite has to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Now that ponies have gotten used to the idea of coming to me for help with their friendship problems and the like, many of them seem to depend on me to project some measure of confidence and happiness when they have trouble finding it in their own lives. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to just yell that they have no idea how trivial some of their ‘problems’ are, and I’m really ashamed of that. It makes me wonder how many times you might have been in a similar situation – given your experience, I assume many. I’m sorry if I’ve ever added to your problems when you would’ve wanted nothing more than to just go to sleep and forget about everything. Sorry, I’m getting off track. The point is this: thank you for helping me to keep things in perspective, especially when it meant showing me and everypony else love, calmness and optimism when doing so would have only hurt you on the inside. I think I have finally realised just how much ‘smiling and waving’ can do for others in their time of need, even if it sometimes means I’m technically only pretending to care. Well, serves me right for wanting to be part of the plan, huh? Sorry, I didn’t mean that. Helping others as a princess is wonderful, but I think I still need more time to come to terms with the idea that showing distress publicly is kind of a big no-no in general. At least, outside of the direst of circumstances. I guess it’s something I really should have appreciated more when I was just a student. Still, if I had the chance to go back, I don’t think I would. I’ve discovered that some ponies are a lot wiser and more perceptive than anypony’s given them credit for. Lucky Clover, of all ponies, was the first to notice (or dare to point out) that I was faking when he came to me about dealing with his relationship problems. I’m not sure who ended up helping the other more in the end, but it was good to have a truly honest conversation with somepony who knew a thing or two about wanting to do things you know you shouldn’t. On another note, today’s been a pretty good day. Levitation no longer makes my head spin, and I managed to fly the whole length of Ponyville without crashing. Woo hoo, go me. Also, I only threw up twice this morning, but I think that was mostly because I was too moody to eat a proper breakfast. Maybe I should try stuffing myself to see if it’s really an improvement. I could use the extra weight, anyway; Spike thinks my ribs were showing a couple of days ago. So much for worrying about staying in shape, what with all the good food everypony keeps offering me when they visit. You know, I think I’m starting to appreciate dark humour. There’s something about poking fun at one’s misfortune that makes it seem less terrible. Similarly, I think I’m starting to appreciate profanity too. It’s sometimes quite effective at taking the edge off of my agony when I’m trying to chuck my entire digestive tract into the toilet. Luna gave me a list of situation-appropriate expletives last week. She says it’s from her guards, but somehow I don’t think terms like ‘spleeny codpiece’ and ‘loathsome toad’ are part of a modern vocabulary. Some samples event went as far as blaspheming the private parts of… certain individuals. I do have to be careful not to let any of those slip when I’m having one of my upchucking episodes around Spike, though. I think the part I dislike most about this whole thing is that there’s no clearly defined journey that I could embark on to cure myself. No quest, no cure, no end. Just… perseverance. Luna tells me that she barely has to give much thought to her experience these days, but it’s hard for me to imagine reaching that point myself. You were right about relying on friends; I don’t know what I would’ve done without them around. Even Discord has been sort of helpful, even if it sometimes means taking on a mild headache to help me get a hold of myself. Well, that’s it for now, I suppose. I wish I had more words, but going nineteen days without a magical infusion is wreaking havoc with my mental stamina. I can barely squeeze in five hours of study daily, nowadays. I know; I can’t believe it either. Still your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle * * * * * A sigh of relief escaped her as she levitated the quill back into place. Her horn-writing had gotten rather wobbly at the last couple of paragraphs, but she considered it a vast improvement over her attempt the previous day. Although he’d tried to hide it, Spike clearly hadn’t been too happy about cleaning up all that spilt ink. After rolling up the scroll and sealing it with wax, she tucked it under a wing and trotted out of her study. A short walk later, she found Spike in his ‘nest’ of pillows atop his bed, lying on his back as he read from the comic book held in his feet. “Spike, I need you to send a letter to Princess Celestia for me, please,” she said. “At once, Your Highness,” he instantly replied with a salute. “My flame is ever at your service!” Twilight chuckled as he hopped off the bed and jogged to her side. “Which volume are you on?” She recognised the austere tone of the Knightmare. “Seven. The one where she fights the reincarnation of King Sombra himself. I’m only halfway through and she’s already kicking flank!” he gushed as he swung an invisible sword at imaginary foes. After delivering what looked like a finishing blow, he grinned sheepishly and said, “Oh, umm, you wanted a letter. Gotcha. Let me go get the—” “No need for that.” Twilight revealed the scroll and passed it to him. “It’s all good to go.” “Oh, you already wrote it. You could’ve told me earlier, you know.” She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks, but I need the practice. My writing’s only going to get worse if I let you do all the heavy lifting.” “Oh, okay.” A brief flare, and they soon saw a streak of green flame swirling out the bedroom window. Spike then clasped his hands together. “So, anything else you need?” She shook her head and yawned. “Nope. In fact, I think—” “You sure you don’t need anything? A book from the library? Something to eat? I could make you a snack.” You’re being awfully helpful... Too helpful. Twilight frowned and attempted to dissect his innocent smile, but he’d apparently gotten as good as she had with poker faces in the past weeks of dealing with ponies eager to curry favour with the newest princess. She glanced at the clock – and grinned when she noticed the time. “Oh, I see what this is all about. It’s bedtime, isn’t it?” He shifted his gaze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Twilight. I’m only offering my services to the central figure of authority in my life.” Fancy diction for a little dragon. She raised an eyebrow. “Discord has been teaching you how to use words, hasn’t he?” “Umm, maybe.” “Well…” Twilight made a show of mulling it over before finally giving him a little nod. “Okay, fine, you can read for a while longer. But I expect to find you properly asleep by the time I get back.” He tilted his head. “When will that be?” “Likely past your extended bedtime.” Spike tensed a little. “Twilight, where are you going?” She sighed inwardly as their daily ritual took hold. “I’m going out for a walk, maybe a bite to eat if I get hungry. I feel like a little exercise would do me good; I’m getting a little restless being all cooped up in the castle. I’m… I’m not going to steal any magic.” Rebellious thoughts sank their claws into her heart as she made that declaration. Nopony would be the wiser if she really wanted to sample some magic. It wasn’t as if anypony could really stop her, either… “Promise?” Spike asked. Twilight forced herself to look him squarely in the eyes and said, “I promise.” “Promise what?” She took a deep breath and slowly released it as she mentally turned away from those rebellious notions. “I promise not to snitch any magic. I mean it.” “I’ll hold you to that,” he said. “Yeah. I know.” Twilight plodded over to the window and shivered when a chilly autumn breeze blew in. A quick hop and a couple of wingbeats later, she had the cool night air caressing her wings as she descended to the street. It sure beat trotting out the door. Huh. No wonder Rainbow seldom bothers with them. A few ponies still went about their business in the streets; a couple waved at her as she trotted by. She smiled back but paid them little attention beyond that. The slightly humid air and overcast sky carried the promise of rain, which she openly welcomed as a change from the comfort of her crystalline castle. There were times when she needed its conveniences to recover from the more arduous stages of her affliction, but the outdoors often proved far better at crowding out the emptiness that always lurked at the edge of her consciousness. It frequently seeped into her mind like a miasmic cloud, lulling her into a pit of despair of which only magic could pull her out. She shook her head. No, I made a promise. Well aware of the usual repertoire of tricks that she could fall prey to, Twilight made sure to keep her gaze firmly away from the direction of Everfree as she broke into a canter. She galloped in a circular route through Ponyville, shifting course to one that led out of town when she realised that her noisy clip-clopping might disturb others. Prior to her ascension, twenty minutes of that would’ve reduced her to a huffing, exhausted heap on the ground, but her alicorn physique enabled her to persevere for nearly quadruple that time on a good day. Or night. A slightly early Running of the Leaves wouldn’t hurt. She took the north-western road out of town, skirting the Apple family’s property before heading directly for the woods. The canopy would be nearly every shade of brown, gold, orange and red by now, but they all looked more or less the same at night. Still, although she couldn’t enjoy the colours, the rustling they made as she galloped past the trees helped to calm her mind. Her speed and outspread wings created enough turbulence to drag the dried foliage in her wake, and she imagined herself a whirlwind ripping along the path, leaving behind all her cares and fears. Somewhere along the way, she noted that the heavy clouds had begun releasing their loads of moisture. She welcomed the stimulation as raindrops pelted her coat, even the coldness that followed if they were large enough to seep in and wet her skin. Anatomy had always occupied one of the lower rungs on the hierarchy of topics important to her, but it had gone up quite a few notches in the past couple of weeks as she dug into research on how her body was supposed to function – with and without her unusual condition. Twilight ticked off every symptom of fatigue on her mental checklist as she went farther and farther from Ponyville. Accelerated heart rate. Sweating. Heavy breathing. Burning muscles. Reduced coordination. And later on, pain. Rainbow Dash and Applejack had assured her that a little pain was good, though. It meant that she was building muscles. But more importantly, she could lose herself in the exhilaration of going so fast that the woods had dissolved into a blur of earth, leaves and tree trunks, with the wind roaring in her ears. Twilight adjusted her gait and pace as needed, even allowing her wings to bear some of her weight every now and then so that no muscle was spared exertion. She ran and ran until the burning sensation had spread to every inch of muscle she could perceive, and she eventually came to a halt atop a grassy knoll, slick with rain and sweat. She collapsed and landed heavily enough to leave an indentation on the soft earth, savouring the sweet scent of grass even as she fought for breath. Slight wheeze. Overdid it a little. Oops. She squeezed her eyes shut as pain and fatigue caught up with her and clamped down on her entire body. Even something as simple as curling up proved to be beyond her cramping muscles. She simply had to lie flat on the ground and bear it. Slowly, the pain ebbed away like receding heat on a lump of molten slag. She eventually recovered sufficiently to sit up and sigh in relief. It was still raining, and the sight of her wet coat actually giving off steam alerted her to the fact that she desperately needed a drink. Luckily, she knew a minor spell that enabled her to gather the water in her surroundings and fuse them together. After adjusting the magical field to avoid taking in her sweat, she slurped up the resulting globe of water. Once sated, she flopped onto her back and stared at the clouds as they emptied themselves onto the world. Her heartbeat became a dull pounding in her ears as she closed her eyes and focused on everything else. The damp earth beneath her that was slowly warming up. The pattering of rain on her belly. The mild, omnipresent ache of exertion. Matted mane and coat. Chilled skin. Hot breath. Mild buzz in the horn from her recent spell. Euphoria from strenuous exercise. The rustling of trees in the wind… No void to drag her down. I’m alive. No amount of magic in the world could beat that. “I’m alive,” she said out loud, allowing herself a little smile when only the tiniest echo of her cravings tried to contradict her. Day Nineteen, one less day to worry about. She shivered. Now that the effects of adrenaline had worn off, she could feel the chill creeping into her bones. Darn. I didn’t come out here just to catch a cold. Twilight took a moment to weigh the benefits of teleporting straight home against walking, and concluded that the risk of a magically-induced migraine was worth the benefit of sparing herself over an hour of trotting in order to sink into a heavenly tub of warm water. Also, the sooner she got out of the rain, the better. She closed her eyes and visualised the layout of the castle, reviewed the coordinates a couple of times and then tentatively powered up the teleportation sequence, ready to abort it at the first sign of trouble. A jarring hum in her skull made her a little queasy, but she found it no worse than the usual bouts and ploughed on until the spell had reached critical mass. The world collapsed with the sound of rushing wind. Twilight endured several seconds of sensory deprivation before she popped back into real space and landed back-first onto a cold, hard surface. It wouldn’t have been so bad if her folded wings hadn’t been between her and the crystal flooring. Ouch. Next, she noticed that she had teleported to somewhere other than her bathroom. She’d made it to one of the hallways instead. Slight miscalculation. Whoops. Also, she probably should’ve gotten onto all fours before teleporting, because the hallway currently had a princess lying belly-up on the floor, dripping water all over the place with four muddy hooves clearly on display for all to see. Luckily, as far as she could tell, nopony had witnessed her undignified arrival. She could just imagine a herald announcing, “Behold, the Princess of Friendship!” as a thousand ponies gaped at the spectacle. Twilight adjusted for the spatial discrepancy and teleported again, silently apologising to the poor pony who would have to mop up the vaguely princess-shaped splatter of water and residual dirt in the morning. Thankfully, her second attempt landed her directly in the bathtub. * * * * * After a warm and invigorating bath, Twilight found Spike snoring in bed and gently shut the door when she realised that she had no inclination to sleep at all. With the clock showing only eleven, she had plenty of time to herself. Too much, in fact, given that she didn’t feel like reading or studying. What to do, what to do… She eventually settled on retrieving a mop from one of the supplies closets and guiltily went straight for the crime scene of her initial teleport with a bucket of water in tow. Cleaning it up took a little more time than she’d expected, but far less than she’d hoped for. She needed something else to do. “Ugh,” she groaned quietly. It was amazing how time could multiply tenfold when her usual favourite activities were off the table. There was just so much of it all of a sudden. As she pondered on the problem of finding something else to occupy her mind, she found herself twirling the rapidly drying mop in her magical grip. It brought a smile to her face as she recalled Spike imitating his favourite comic book heroes, and on a whim, she began swinging it around like a sword or spear. How did Shining do it again? She vaguely remembered the day he came home all excited about showing Mom and Dad his newly acquired proficiency with a spear. She tried emulating his moves, and then… Inspiration. Clarity. Anticipation. Is this the feeling that Rarity refers to when she has one of those moments? Until she got better, it looked like studying would have to remain a less-than-appealing option in coping with her condition. Physical activity like her impromptu marathon proved an effective alternative, so maybe it was time to expand on that a little. She’d always been an advocate of the magic of learning, so it would certainly be a welcome experience. She already knew the message she would get Spike to send as soon as he was able. Dear Princess Luna, I accept your offer.