//------------------------------//
// Chapter Two 
// Story: A Different Kind of Magic 
// by Krizak 
//------------------------------//

*SLAM*

Before she earned her cutie mark and came under the tutelage of Princess Celestia, before she discovered the magic of friendship and the five mares that made her complete, Twilight Sparkle had cared for only four things in all of Equestria: her mother, her father, her brother, and books. And though she now understood how important her relationships with other ponies were, a part of her heart still belonged to her paper-and-binding friends. It was a mutually beneficial relationship; books would take her on wild adventures, impart unto her ancient secrets, and even cheer her up after a bad day, and in return, Twilight introduced them to new friends, kept them clean and well-maintained, and defended them from those who would dare rough them up.

So it was hardly surprising when, even in the midst of a magic-induced slumber, Twilight managed to recognize the sound of books hitting the ground hard. With a barely conscious groan, she mumbled harshly, "Be careful with those books!"

"Tw-Tw-Twilight, what happened to you!?" came the response, in the form of a panicked and all-too-familiar voice.

So it was Spike who had dropped the books. Strange, he was usually so careful, having lived with Twilight for years now and knowing how cranky she got when books got damaged... and with a thought that lucid, Twilight knew that she had lost the fight and it was time to wake up, no matter how much she'd rather sleep in.

Lifting her head and chest off the ground, Twilight smacked her lips, trying to get the awful taste of her own saliva out of her mouth and failing as usual. Opening her eyes after a couple aborted attempts, the mare blearily looked around and focused on Spike as best she could. "Spike, what... what are you talking about?" Spotting the books the young dragon had just dropped in front of his feet, Twilight concentrated on them, intending to place them on the nearby table.

The books firmly held their ground.

Spike finally managed to find his voice, blurting out, "Twilight, where's your horn!?"

Between his question, the books' steadfast refusal to move, and Twilight taking a cross-eyed glance at the empty void on her forehead, a spark was sent reeling through her mind, making her recall the spell that she had cast last night. Panic gripped her for a second — how could she have been so irresponsible!? — but it quickly faded as Twilight accepted that what was done was done. She trusted Pinkie Pie, right? The pink party pony had given her solemn Pinkie Promise to limit how she used her magic, and with those mitigating factors, all she could really do would be—

A vision chose that moment to cross Twilight's mind, one of the entire town chasing after a doll enchanted with a spell. A spell that, by the rules Twilight had laid down, was perfectly acceptable for Pinkie to cast. Panic found its home for a second time.

At this point, Spike had seen his now-hornless mentor and friend go through at least seven different emotions in the last five seconds, which was far past the need for concern in his book. "Twilight, should I contact Princess Celestia about... whatever happened?"

Invoking the Princess' name turned out to be the right move, as the dozen different tracks Twilight's mind had been running all suddenly converged into one focused thought: under no circumstances could Celestia learn about what had happened, lest she look upon her faithful student with disappointment for the fourth time in history. "No, Spike, I'm... fine, really," she managed to blurt out just as Spike was turning to go get a scroll and quill. "I... cast a spell last night on Pinkie Pie and myself,  and seeing as you're still calling me Twilight, I guess it just made me an earth pony and Pinkie a unicorn." She reached a hoof up to her forehead, both to feel the strange sensation of a smooth forehead and to confirm that her coat was indeed purple and not bright pink.

"Pinkie's a unicorn!?" Spike's eyes widened even further, to a point where it had to hurt to be that surprised, and he turned once again for the scrolls and quills. "Never mind your problems, Twilight, the Princess needs to prepare for the end of the world!"

"Oh, Spike, you're overreacting!" Twilight admonished, using her magic to drag Spike back... or at least intending to. She had to get used to that for today. Instead, she rose from the ground and pursued Spike, the longer-legged pony easily catching up with the short dragon. She grimaced as she grabbed his tail in her mouth; that was another thing she'd have to get used to, tasting things that she didn't particularly want to taste.

Placing a hoof down on Spike's tail, Twilight spat out the scaly appendage and placed her other forehoof on Spike's shoulder, prompting him to look over his shoulder and into what she hoped was a convincingly calm facade. "Spike, really, you're overreacting. So am I, honestly, but we have to look at this logically. If Pinkie Pie's a unicorn, she has the basic magic of all unicorns. She'll be able to levitate items, and she'll have magic relating to her cutie mark, so she'll probably be producing party favours out of thin air." The former unicorn chuckled, her words as much to calm her own concerns as they were to calm Spike's. "Which she already somehow managed to do even without a horn."

"Well, I guess so, Twilight," Spike replied reluctantly, an answer that Twilight had long ago learned meant that the prideful dragon totally agreed with her. Twilight beamed at her assistant and released his tail, and Spike turned around to face her, rubbing his tail gingerly. "Ow! I think you put a kink in my tail."

"Sorry, Spike. I guess I need to get used to doing things the earth pony way—" Twilight resisted the sudden urge to break into a reprise of the Winter Wrap-Up song. That was strange; usually only really important matters sparked within her the natural pony instinct to break into song. "—er, without my magic. At least for today. What time is it anyway?"

"Almost six in the morning." Spike walked over to the books he had dropped, picking them up off the ground and carrying them over to the nearest table. "I was kinda surprised when I woke up and saw you hadn't even come to bed. Was nice to sleep in for a change, though," he added, grinning over at Twilight. 

"Don't get used to it, buster," Twilight shot back, smirking despite the words. "But yeah, the spell took a lot out of me — or put a lot into me, or both — and it knocked me right out." A frown crossed her face. "I'm surprised Pinkie didn't stick around... So she wasn't here when you came downstairs?"

"Nope, I haven't seen her." Placing the books on the table, Spike's attention was caught by a stray sheet of paper. Glancing it over quickly, he then snatched it up and held it out to Twilight. "But she apparently left you a note!" A cross look from his mentor and a gesture of her head to the table reminded him of the situation. "Oh. Right."

Setting the note back on the table, Spike hustled out of the way as Twilight sat down and read what had to be some of the most elaborate hornwriting she had ever seen.

Oh my gosh Twilight I can write in unicorn script now! No more dashes and dots for this Pinkie Pie, and no visiting a scribe, not today! Not I can write a's and e's and g's and m's and o's! O's are so amazing, like loopty-loops! OOOOOOOOO— Twilight skipped past the next half page of more and more elaborate O's. —whoa, I made myself a little dizzy with all that looping! Oh, right, I started writing this note for a reason, and that was to apologize. I'm sorry I had to run off before you woke up, but I had to open Sugarcube Corner this morning, remember? Actually, I'm running a little late as it is, because I didn't get an itchy neck like I usually do when it's time to wake up. I would have woken you up before I left, but you were so cute and peaceful, I just couldn't! Anyway, I'll be off at two, so I'll see you then, unless you stop by while I'm working, in which case I'll see you even sooner! Love and hugs, Pinkie Pie!

Wisely choosing to ignore the faint blush she'd developed at Pinkie calling her "cute" in her letter, Twilight decided instead to concentrate on the more important details contained in Pinkie's ridiculous loopy writing. "Alright, I just need to get cleaned up a bit, and then I can head over to Sugarcube Corner and make sure Pinkie's adjusting—" Twilight had turned to Spike as she laid out her plan, but paused as she saw her assistant once again staring blankly at her. "Seriously, Spike? What is it now?"

Spike didn't tear his eyes off of whatever he was staring at. "Twi, remember how you said that Pinkie's magic would be limited by her cutie mark?" He didn't even wait for Twilight to nod with a confused look before he raised one hand and pointed. Twilight craned her neck further to look at her own cutie mark—

That wasn't her own cutie mark.

It was magenta and white, just like her cutie mark was, but it was no longer a starburst. It was a trio of balloons, one white flanked by two magenta.

It was Pinkie Pie's cutie mark.

Which meant, logically, that Pinkie Pie had Twilight Sparkle's cutie mark.

A cutie mark which represented magic itself. Specifically the magic of friendship.

Pinkie Pie was friends with everypony in town.

"Spike? We may want to reconsider overreacting."




It seemed like she was finally catching up!

If Pinkie was as honest as she could be with herself, if she could take Applejack's Element and strap it on herself for only a second, she'd have to admit, she had mixed feelings about what had happened last night — what she had convinced Twilight to do. Okay, sure, when she woke up this morning, she had been all excited about the possibilities, and being able to write with magic had been great, coming pretty naturally to Pinkie. But then she hadn't been able to find any of her usual shortcuts to Sugarcube Corner and had been forced to hoof it to the bakery the long way. Between her sleeping in and the longer trip, she ended up with only half the time she'd usually have to bake before the bakery's doors opened at 6AM.

And the baking! Oh, what a disaster! Levitation helped with the preparation, yes. Not having to use a mouth mitt to get things out of the oven, even better. But none of that mattered when batch after batch after batch of muffins and danishes and strudels were charred to a blackened crisp!

As long as Pinkie had remembered, she'd baked based on the tingles she got in her scalp. Tingle near the back of her head, muffins were ready. Tingle near her left ear, cupcakes. Tingle near her right temple, pie. Tingle across her whole scalp... well, that usually meant it was time to switch what shampoo she used. Pinkie had eventually been forced to dig out the Cakes' old cookbooks, coated in dust at not having been consulted by the expert bakers for years now, and read up on exactly how long things were supposed to bake for. And while her baked goods started turning okay after that, they weren't as good as she was used to making, so she started making little tweaks to the time she kept each batch in the oven.

That's when it occurred to Pinkie that this was what it was like to be Twilight Sparkle. Looking up the facts, experimenting, striving for perfection...! That was the turning point for her, when she decided that this had been a good idea after all. It never hurt to try to do things in a new way, and the magic she had borrowed from Twilight was helping make up for all the time lost.

Within an hour, Pinkie stood in the centre of the bakery, her new horn glowing a bright and vivid blue, as a storm of culinary creation surrounded her: eggs cracking into bowls, whisks mixing up batter, one tray exiting the oven just in time for another to take its place. It had taken her a few tries to get a handle on manipulating multiple objects at once, but with a bit of practice and thought, Pinkie was easily hovering around a half-dozen items at once, though she could only have one or two doing anything more complex than "move from Point A to Point B." She started idly whistling a tune, one that strangely brought to mind the idea of living brooms, as she watched the inanimate objects under her control.

It was almost time to open up for the day, and Pinkie was just about to put in the latest batch of pastries, when there was a sharp rap at the kitchen door. "Huh? Oh, it's Tuesday! Come on in, Applejack!" A blue glow surrounded the doorknob, and the door unlocked and came slightly ajar. Normally she'd have to leave AJ waiting until a lull in her baking occurred, but not today! Another success for magic!

"Good mornin', sugarcube!" Applejack said, her voice muffled somewhat by the large, lumpy sack she was dragging backwards through the door. "Got yer week's supply of apples right here. You want I should put 'em in th' regular spot?"

"Oh, don't worry, Applejack, I've got it!" A blue glow surrounded the sack of apples and lifted it off of the ground, depositing it neatly in the bakery's fruit pantry.

"Is Rarity helpin' out again today?" Applejack asked as she turned around, pleased that she didn't have to drag the sack any further and risk bruising more of her apples. "Ya know, Rarity, if you want to try yer hoof at bakin' somewhere a little more relaxin' than the Corner, I—Holy mother of Celestia, Pinkie, what is that on yer head!?"

Pinkie smirked on the inside, even as she adopted a look of mild concern for Applejack's benefit. "Oh, do I have some creme filling on my face? I guess that's what I get for sampling all the tasty treats I'm baking!"

Frustration entered Applejack's expression, though it had a long way to go before it could overpower the shock. "No, Pinkie, it ain't on yer face, it's on yer head! Why—"

"Oh, are you talking about my mane?" Pinkie brought her hoof up to the long straight locks that hung down the right side of her face. "I just can't seem to get it the way I like it this morning, so I guess it's all natural today." This was actually the truth; usually, if her hair had straightened out while she slept — often due to a bad dream of some sort — she just had to look at her cutie mark and remember the day she got it to make her hair poof out again, but that apparently wasn't working with Twilight's mark on her flank.

With that, frustration managed to win out over shock. "Darn it, Pinkamena Diane Pie, you know I'm talkin' about that horn of yers!"

There had been a couple times after they had first met when Pinkie's jokes and teasing had angered Applejack almost to the point of blows. The two were friends, there was no doubt about that, but Pinkie could definitely grate on the farmpony like few others could. So Pinkie and Applejack had worked out a deal: if Applejack was getting too irritated with Pinkie, she'd call her friend by her full name, and Pinkie would stop. It was surprising that Applejack had resorted to using her full name so quickly, though; something must have really have upset her.

"It's just what it looks like, Applejack, a horn." The horn glowed blue once again — proof that it wasn't just an elaborate prop — and an apple danish floated over to land in front of Pinkie's friend. "Twilight cast a spell last night that made me a unicorn and her an earth pony. It changed our cutie marks too—" Pinkie emphasized this point with a turn and wiggle of her rump. "—which is probably for the best because I'd have nooooo idea what I'm doing without it!"

"Twilight did this!?" Applejack exclaimed before narrowing her eyes. "That darn fool unicorn, who does she think she is, messin' around with nature like this? Why, I oughta—"

"Nonononono, Applejack, don't be mad at Twilight!" Pinkie rushed up to Applejack and gave the farmpony a calming hug. "I convinced her to cast the spell! I wanted to see what it was like, having all this magic, and so far, it's been pretty fun."

Applejack reluctantly let go of her anger — mostly — and hugged Pinkie back before taking a step out of the embrace. "I bet it would be fun — though it ain't goin' to ever replace some good ol'-fashioned hoofwork — but how'd you convince Twilight? I would think she'd be dead set against losin' her magic, even fer a day."

The truth was that Pinkie had a pretty good idea why, exactly, she'd managed to goad Twilight into casting the spell last night; the spell itself had seen to that, showing Pinkie thoughts of Twilight that she felt almost guilty for knowing about. But Pinkie hadn't yet decided herself how she felt about what she had been shown, and besides that, losing a friend's trust was the fastest way to lose a friend forever. So she replied with, "Well, you know me, I can be pretty convincing..."

"And I told you before, you need to be careful with that. You remember what happened with the Cakes' cake, right?" Pinkie nodded solemnly, and the farmpony took the opportunity to look up at the clock. "Shoot, it's already past six? I'd better get goin', before I get behind on what needs doin'."

"What, it's past six?" Pinkie looked up at the clock herself, even as her horn glowed and assorted baked goods started hovering in the air around her. "I have to open the doors, I'm already late as it is!"

The baker quickly trotted through the door to the storefront, and after a moment's thought, Applejack followed after her. "Actually, Pinkie, I think the farm can wait a few hours today. I think I'll stick around fer a bit, make sure things go smoothly."

"Why wouldn't things go smoothly?" Pinkie asked as she took her place behind the counter, the pastries settling into their respective spots in the display case. With a final blue glow, the "Closed" sign on the door flipped to "Open" and the door unlocked.

"Pinkie, a horde of baby bunnies was enough to drive this town into a tizzy. What do you think's gonna happen when word gets around about your newfound power?"

"Oh." Worry filled Pinkie's face. "Right."