//------------------------------// // Chapter 12 // Story: Withdrawal // by Raugos //------------------------------// It had taken Twilight the better part of three days to recover until she felt well enough to travel. In between, she occupied her time with reading, strolling short distances in the woods and sparring with a dead sapling. She also continued helping Tacky with his studies, much to Winder’s dismay that he’d never be able to keep up with the new, clever big sibling standard she’d set. She still got the occasional bout of nausea and headaches, but Tacky and Winder often helped to offset her misery when she had to sweat, moan and dry heave into a bucket for what felt like hours. She did have to warn him off when her hunger got especially keen, but luckily that didn’t happen too often or for too long. Overall, it had still given her enough time to plan her journey home. “Promise you’ll come visit again?” Tacky asked as they stood on the path to River Springs Elementary. Twilight nodded. “I’ll write, too.” “All right. See you!” Tacky trotted ahead towards the school, enthusiastically at first, but gradually slowed until he came to a stop a couple of dozen paces ahead. He glanced back at Twilight, fidgeting with apparent indecision on the spot, then came dashing back to give her a quick hug. Also, Twilight couldn’t say for sure, but she thought he looked a little red in the face as he practically zipped back up the path to the school and disappeared inside. “Did he just—?” Beside her, Winder sniggered. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Minor crush like that’ll last no more than a week, tops.” “How do you know?” “Ahem.” He thumped himself on the chest and gave her a pointed look. She stared at him for a couple of seconds before finally catching on. “Oh, right.” A neat little park sat adjacent to the school, and Twilight couldn’t resist taking a little break there before continuing on the next leg of their trip. Lying under the sun on one of the benches felt almost like home. A thin layer of snow covered the ground, but grass still poked through it in patches between the evergreen trees and stone decorations. She just needed Spike and a good book to complete the experience. Twilight looked back at the school and watched for a couple of minutes as other children headed in. A few of them had elder siblings or parents as escorts, some of whom gave her odd looks. One couple might’ve even winked at Winder, who at least had the grace to look embarrassed when he realised she’d noticed. None of the ponies recognised her, given her shabby manecut and the thick jacket, scarf and leggings that Winder had supplied for her trip home. Minutes passed without any objection from him, but he did politely cough a couple of times whilst looking at the town’s clock tower after the school bell rang. Twilight knew she shouldn’t stall any further, but that didn’t help with the sinking feeling in her gut whenever she thought of facing her friends back in Ponyville. Parts of the bad dream still clung to the back of her mind. “Uh—” He’d vocalised. Twilight knew that the time had come. “All right, all right.” She hopped off the bench with a slightly nonplussed Winder following suit, and began trotting down the road towards Vanhoover City. “You sure you don’t want to just call for, I don’t know, a chariot or something?” he asked. “Pretty sure the guards will reach us faster than lightning if you sent out a message right here in town.” “I’ve made up my mind. This is something I need to do. No pomp, no ceremony, and definitely no media. You know I’ll never get to avoid those if I call for help all the way from here.” Winder sighed. “Fair enough.” They made their way southwest to the city on hoof, since she hadn’t yet regrown enough feathers for safe flight. In any case, she’d already crossed that off her list of options since she could more easily hide her wings than her horn. After over half an hour plodding along surrounded by pine forest, the dirt path eventually turned into a properly paved road with significantly more traffic. Due to the relatively sunny weather, they passed many travellers from other outlying towns and tradesmares with their carts and carriages. Twilight initially had misgivings about the increased contact, but her rudimentary disguise held up and nopony paid her any attention. That suited her just fine. Another half hour of brisk trotting got them to the city outskirts. “Okay, little detour from here,” Winder announced. He then retrieved a map from his saddlebag and unrolled it for her to see, pointing at their location and drawing an imaginary line southwest. “Just take this little road here, and we’ll reach Tall Tale in little over an hour.” Twilight nodded. Before leaving the house, Winder had originally suggested taking the train straight from Vanhoover, but the thought of wandering in the city with thousands of ponies and potential magic-users did not sit well with her. So she’d settled for the second-nearest station outside of the city, where she ran a lower risk of overwhelming herself with temptation. They lapsed into silence as they went past the outlying farmland around the city. Few ponies took this path, probably in part due to the rapidly deteriorating weather. The sky had darkened considerably, and Twilight quickly felt her growing appreciation for Winder’s foresight in packing so much stuff despite her desire to travel light. The thick clothing helped with the plummeting temperature and biting wind, and she had plenty of food in the saddlebags whenever she got peckish from all that trotting. Front-left, hind-right, front-right, hind-left… As Twilight settled back into the steady rhythm, she simply allowed her mind to wander. After another hour or so, they reached the train station without incident. Snowflakes had begun drifting down from the sky at that point, so they both gratefully made their way into the station. It had a lovely fireplace going, which Twilight happily utilised whilst Winder got her ticket. “Okay, your ride’s due real soon,” he said as he trotted back with a ticket under a wing. “Just remember that I’ve packed some spare bits if you need to get off the train for any reason.” He passed the ticket to her, and then shuffled a little awkwardly on the spot. “So, I guess this is goodbye for now.” Twilight promptly wrapped him in a hug. “Thanks, Winder. You’ve been a good friend.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “Happy to be of service. Thanks for not, you know, spilling the beans and all that.” Twilight felt her smile waver a bit. Winder caught on pretty quickly, judging by the sudden look of concern on his face, and she sighed. “I have to be honest with you.” She glanced around, making sure that nopony was within earshot, then dropped her voice closer to a whisper. “I can keep my, uh, adventure here under wraps for a while, but I’ll probably have to tell Princess Celestia about you sooner or later. I don’t want—no, I can’t lie to her. She can see right through me with things like that. But she’s one of the greatest ponies around, so I trust that she’ll do the right thing.” “Which is?” Twilight shook her head. “I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure that she won’t want to hurt you or Tacky. And even if she does try to do something that might, I’ll…” She swallowed and thumped a hoof on the floor. “—I’ll make sure she sees the whole picture. I’ll do everything I can to make sure we do the right thing. I’ll figure something out.” Winder glanced at the platform, ears perked as the train rumbled into view. He then turned back to her and nodded. “Heh. Can’t ask for much more than that. Take care.” She turned and began trotting towards the platform. “Yeah. Let’s hope I last longer than the last round.” “You’ll get there,” he called out. “Little steps. One day at a time.” * * * * * The sound of hooves shuffling through sand distracted Twilight from her writing. Looking up from her semi-circular stone table decked high with dusty tomes and scroll casings, she saw a pair of fairly young unicorn scholars trotting towards her from the vast expanse of sand dunes under the overcast, grey sky. Two friends, she remembered. Here to collect their study materials for the semester. Twilight set aside the inches-thick volume on advanced arcane theory she’d been working on and rose to all fours. She then plodded through the thick layer of sand burying the tiled flooring between her workspace and the storage chest, careful to ensure that the heavy chain connecting the steel collar around her neck to the ground didn’t get dragged through any fragile objects. A quick rummage through the chest, and she pulled out a carefully preserved copy of ancient Equestrian history. She trotted back with the book in tow, listening to the almost-musical clinking of her chains and carefully placed it on the counter. At the same time, the two students, one mare and one stallion, reached her and wordlessly displayed their identification cards. Twilight didn’t need to look closely; she recognised the Academy’s symbols well enough and offered a smile as they took it by hoof and placed it into the stallion’s large saddlebag. Apparently satisfied, they both acknowledged her presence with a nod and turned to leave. Twilight watched them shrink into the horizon, until even the sand scattered by the wind obscured their figures in the fading light. The shifting sands soon removed any trace of their foray into her domain. A whisper, almost indistinguishable from the winds pricked her ears, and she turned to inspect at the broken pillars and crumbling walls around her workplace, searching for its source. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, she gazed back at the horizon. Minutes passed. Or years, maybe. Hard to tell when so little changed at all. Eventually, she went back to her workspace, adjusting the heavy collar to a more comfortable position. After a couple of false starts and wistful glances towards the horizon, she sighed and dove back into her work. Who knew? Her next visitor might even say hello. * * * * * “Hello? Miss?” “Gnnngh… be there in a minute.” Something pressed against her shoulder, and Twilight shied away from the pressure it put on a bruise. The incessant rumbling all around her didn’t help matters along. Too loud. Too cold. She couldn’t move. “I’m very sorry, but you really should get up right now.” Twilight grimaced when blue light flashed brightly enough to pierce through her eyelids. She gasped when she opened them to find a stallion’s face far too close for comfort, and had to resist the urge to kick him away or put up a barrier between them. The train conductor retreated out of her personal space and flattened his ears in apology. “Sorry. Had to make sure you hadn’t passed out or something. What are you doing all the way back here?” Twilight glanced around, noting the broken seats and dirty carpeting along with the scratched and stained windows. Her saddlebags lay by her side, and it looked like she’d used them as cushioning at some point during the ride. It took her a moment to remember why she’d secluded herself in the last, practically abandoned carriage of the train: she remembered growing restless in the presence of the few unicorns on board. A couple of the earth ponies probably had magical plants or trinkets in their luggage, too. She’d moved all the way back there to catch a break from it all, reasoning that nopony would want to sit in the most run-down carriage when they could easily find space in the nicer compartments. “Right.” Twilight glanced out to the rolling countryside and turned back to the stallion. “Sorry. I must’ve fallen asleep. Are you here to check my ticket?” He smiled. “That’ll be nice, yes.” Twilight snatched her ticket from the bag and showed it to him, studiously ignoring his levitation spell as he inspected it. “Miss, I’m afraid you’re already five stations past Ponyville.” “Yes, I’ll be fine, I—wait, what?” She gaped at him and switched her gaze back out the window. “Oh. Oh no.” “Uh huh.” He nodded in sympathy as he returned the ticket. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to disembark at Rockly Vale to get another ride back. That should be about four bits.” Twilight nodded. “Okay, I’ll do that.” “Please do.” His firm tone made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to have to call security on her. He then gestured towards the front of the carriage and added, “Would you prefer to move up? It’s warmer and less, uh, dingy than in here.” “I… I think I’ll stay. Thanks.” When the stallion looked ready to insist, she added, “I don’t feel too great right now; I’d rather not spread anything if it’s something more than a headache.” His eyes flicked up and down as he looked at her from horn to hooves with worry lines etched onto his forehead. For her part, Twilight kept still and smothered the clamouring emptiness in her chest by picturing Tacky and the Crusaders all standing in the same carriage with them, and their fear and disappointment if she failed to keep it under a lid. “You know, I thought I saw a doctor in the other carriage.” He looked over his shoulder. “Maybe I could—” Twilight shook her head. “Please don’t trouble anypony. I’ll be fine.” “You sure?” “Positive. I promise I’ll come forward if I really need help.” “Well… okay. Suit yourself.” He shrugged and began trotting back up the train, but paused at the door to the next carriage and said, “Just be careful and keep awake for the next stop.” Twilight sat back down and simply stared at the closed door for several minutes, dreading the possibility that the conductor might’ve decided to send somepony to check on her anyway. But after a while, she relaxed and spent the next few minutes or so just watching the snowy countryside pass by. When the train had come to a full stop, she pushed the door open and barged through the cold air that whooshed into the carriage. Rockly Vale station consisted of little more than the simple platform and a little office since it didn’t connect to any major settlements, so she at least didn’t have to line up in the middle of a crowd. Nopony else got off the train with her, either. “One ticket to Ponyville, please,” she said to the mare at the counter, fishing for the necessary bits in her saddlebags. However, she did not find any of the coins in their designated pouches. She glanced back at the mare patiently waiting for payment and smiled sheepishly before attempting another search. Unfortunately, the outcome remained the same. She found her dried fruit, biscuits and half-empty canteen exactly where she remembered them, but not a single bit. Vigorous shaking produced no clinking noises, and a quick glance back at the platform revealed no golden coins lying about. Had they spilled out whilst she’d been sleeping on the train? Unlikely. She remembered checking her surroundings before disembarking for that exact reason. Could somepony have filched them during her sleep? Possible. Anypony could have gotten to her before the conductor came by. Then again, they could have just fallen out at some other point between purchasing her first ticket and now. Shoot. I really should’ve kept a closer eye on those… “Everything all right, miss?” Twilight glanced back at the mare. For a moment, she considered revealing her identity to get a free ride back to Ponyville. Going back there would take at least three, maybe four hours on hoof, and the weather did not look too favourable with the overcast sky. No, better not, she thought. A dishevelled Princess Twilight pulling rank for a free train ride out of nowhere would probably draw unwanted attention. She couldn’t see how that might possibly lead to an undesirable outcome at the moment, but she still didn’t want to take the risk. How about asking nicely? She didn’t need to say who she was. She’d already lost so much of her dignity that stooping to a little begging wouldn’t make much of a difference, anyway. “Err, I think I’ve misplaced my bits. I don’t suppose I could—” “Sorry, no,” the mare interjected. All at once, the ambient temperature seemed to dip a couple of degrees as her expression shifted from mild concern to rocky stoicism. She then delivered the rest of her words with all the droning efficiency of somepony who’d recited her lines many times over. “Excepting dire circumstances, Equestria Railway’s policies prohibit me from giving away free tickets regardless of travel distance. If you like, you can speak to the manager, but he’s on lunch break at the moment. Please feel free to take a seat in the meantime.” Twilight followed the mares gesture towards the stations lonely seats and turned back to dip her head in apology. “I—sorry. I’ll just be on my way. Thanks.” She did feel a little annoyed by her sudden coldness, but decided not to make anything out of it. Poor mare probably got that way after dealing with lots of sappy stories from ponies who’d forgotten to bring enough bits for travel; hers probably wouldn’t sound any more compelling. So, after giving her another apologetic nod, Twilight exited the station and began trotting through the clearing parallel to the train tracks. She didn’t recall it going over any rivers or otherwise impassable terrain, so she felt pretty confident that she could simply follow it all the way home. Her mind wandered back to the dream on the train. Did it have any significance? She had some trouble recalling all the details, but… on some level that she couldn’t quite put a hoof on, it seemed like the right thing to do. Little by little, she slowed until she came to a complete stop by the side of the tracks. Save for the slight elevation of the tracks, the ground was pretty level in every direction. She could see the tracks going forward like a snake winding through a long road between snowy trees on either side, leading her back to… uncertainty. The void tugged at her innards. Could she really keep it under a lid forever? The next time she blew it, the consequences might far exceed the harm she’d done to herself this time. Others could get hurt, too. She looked to the side and peered into the woods. No clear paths presented themselves, but she could imagine making her way through to find someplace to stay. Winder and Tacky managed on their own in the middle of nowhere and so did Zecora; maybe she could, too. Exile. The word echoed in her mind like a whisper in a cavern. Twilight Sparkle, the Exile. Could she pull off something like that? At least she wouldn’t have to worry about hurting anypony but herself. Then again, the last time she didn’t have anypony but herself to worry about… No. Celestia might have willingly left her alone for the past few days, but she’d eventually start searching if she’d disappeared for too long. Everypony else would worry. Her family would get worried sick. They didn’t deserve that kind of treatment after all they’d done for her. Also… she owed everypony a long round of apologies and she didn’t want Tacky’s faith in her to prove misplaced. Sighing, Twilight forced herself to keep moving. If she suddenly got lucky, somepony might feel generous enough to spare her some bits at one of the nearer stations. She could probably make it to Honeystalk in less than thirty minutes with a brisk trot. About half an hour later, Twilight snorted as she cantered parallel to the tracks past Honeystalk Station. Apparently, if Twilight isn’t a princess, then she defaults as stinky homeless mare to everypony who sees her outside of Ponyville. Most of the ponies at the station had either ignored her requests for help or quickly made up an excuse to be somewhere else. She’d even caught wind of a couple of unsavoury remarks behind her back. Once out of sight around a bend and hidden by the trees, she surreptitiously glanced around and stuck her muzzle under a lifted wing. As far as she could tell, she didn’t stink much more than the average pony after a couple of hours trotting through the countryside in thick, heavy clothing. Then again, avoiding attention had been her plan all along, so maybe she’d done a little too well that an unforeseen predicament like losing some bits could lead to so much extra work. Twilight slid her wings out of the thick folds of fabric over her back and stretched them, testing her new plumage against the air. The very uneven resistance proved that they definitely weren’t flightworthy yet, but it still felt good to have some wind under them instead of keeping them hidden under clothes all day long. My legs could use some exercise, anyway. * * * * * Judging by the sun’s proximity to the horizon, just peeping over the dark shadows of treetops and barely making it through the heavy precipitation in the air, Twilight guessed the time at somewhere around five in the evening. This time, she felt doubly grateful to Winder for being a little paranoid about her safety and comfort than she’d thought necessary. The extra leggings and scarves he’d packed into her saddlebags had saved her from a couple of hours of miserable shivering in the middle of nowhere when the wind picked up and it started snowing. She probably looked like Shining when he’d greeted them on their first visit to the Crystal Empire, minus the goggles. Straight down the icy, deserted road, she could already see the yellow-orange glows coming from the windows of Ponyville’s outermost houses. Almost there. The food helped, too. Without missing a step, she pulled down the edge of the scarf around her muzzle to insert the last piece of her dried fruit slices. She then slipped the scarf back in place and munched away as she trotted into town. That’ll give her something to do with her jaw other than grinding her teeth down with worry about what kind of reception awaited her once everypony realised that she’d come home with more injuries than she’d ever seen on most Royal Guards. She took a more circuitous route through town instead of heading straight for the palace. Along the way, she did pass by a few ponies going about their business and finally realised what Zecora must’ve gone through on her occasional visits when they either gave her a very wide berth or made abrupt detours indoors. Not that she’d gotten much better treatment from ponies elsewhere, but after everything they’d gone through, she’d expected a little better from Ponyville than suspicious sidelong glances and hushed whispers behind her back. Though, she did have trouble deciding what to make of Berry Punch’s very direct invitation to follow her for a drink. It probably depended whether she’d already drunk herself past the point of recognising anypony she spoke to. Twilight politely mumbled her refusal and went on her way. Her other hunger did stir in her chest a couple of times when she went past unicorn residences, but she managed to drone it out by playing out an imaginary math class in her head, switching to the most rigidly structured lecture on theoretical arithmetic she could think of when the void’s pangs threatened to break her concentration. When she finally reached her destination, the… sameness of the palace caught her off guard. Nothing appeared to have changed much, aside from maybe having fewer lights coming out of the windows. She almost expected to find it abandoned with the door chained and bolted shut, but they parted easily at her touch. A little bit of snow made it into the interior when she cautiously stepped in. She pulled down her scarf, and her breath fogged instantly in the frigid air. Though cold as the outside, the stark cleanliness within indicated that business had proceeded as usual for the skeleton staff, at least; they’d just neglected the heating. Looking down at the muddy tracks her hoof had left on the pristine flooring, she bit her lip and went back to the large mat to wipe them clean first. Once done, she ascended the stairs to the palace proper. She remembered seeing light coming from their bedroom window, so she went there first. Okay, this can’t be that hard. Just say hi and apologise. Her hoof lingered in the air just inches from the door, though. What if he’s angry? What then? She bit her lip, wondering if she could find a way to defuse the situation if she upset him. What if he’s run away to look for me? Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. She’d never forgive herself if he got hurt whilst lost in the wilderness, searching for her when she should’ve stuck around and just owned up to her mistakes instead of running away like a coward. She barged through the door with more force than necessary. “Spike, I’m so sorry! I, I—you’re not here. That means—” No no no no! Twilight whirled around and had galloped back halfway down the corridor before common sense finally reasserted itself. She slowed to a halt and mentally shook herself. No need to panic yet; he could have gone anywhere in the palace, or maybe even somewhere else in town. Or maybe he’d gone back to Canterlot to stay with Mum and Dad until she got back. Any of those at least had significantly higher probabilities of occurring than her worst case scenario. Still, she went half-cantering through the palace in search for him, starting with the library. Followed by the grand hall. And then the guest rooms. Her heart rate climbed up a notch after finding each place empty; even the staff had probably gone home. She had finished her sweep and felt just about ready to actually ask for help finding him when she heard a faint sizzling coming from the far end of the dim kitchen. The servant’s quarters. They had their own little kitchen and living space there, and it would make sense for him to use those for cooking if he’d been left alone. It had much better heat conservation, and less to clean up, too. The relative warmth there confirmed his presence. Twilight slowed her approach as the noise got louder and practically tip-hoofed her way into the little kitchen where she found Spike standing on a stool with his back to her, facing the stove. His body obscured the contents of the frying pan, but from the green light that flared up when he leaned forward, she could tell that he was using his own fire breath to cook… something. The scent that wafted over to her did not smell like anything anypony would ever want in her home; her stomach almost churned of its own accord. She paused in the middle of the kitchenette, rummaging through her brain for the right words. ‘Hi’ sounded like an immense understatement after everything that had happened, but anything else also felt either forced or cheesy to her mind. And then… she noticed his tail. A few scales at the end just before the spade still had blackened edges, whilst the rest of them looked like new growth, considering the smaller sizes, lighter colouration and uneven pattern. It looked like a painful recovery – from an injury that she had caused. Her ears flattened as she took a step backward. Just then, Spike drew his tail close to scratch the tip. A very nasty itch, considering how much force he applied using his claws. She heard a faint crack, like a nutshell splitting in half, and he plucked loose a displaced, blackened scale. After holding it up to inspect it like one would a bit they’ve found on the floor, he shrugged and unceremoniously popped it into his mouth. “Eww!” “Huagh!” Spike leaped up, spun around in mid-air and landed rather haphazardly back onto the stool. He fumbled with the oily spatula for a second before recovering his grip and balance, and then brandished it at her, growling, “Who are you? Why’re you sneaking up on me? I can breathe fire and I’m not afraid to use it!” Twilight thought she could taste a bit of bile. “Spike, why did you eat that? It’s unhygienic!” He lowered the spatula and frowned. “Wait, who’re—Twilight?” She lowered her eyes for a moment, then nodded. A metallic clang resounded as Spike tossed the spatula onto the counter and leaped off the stool to charge straight towards her. Going by muscle memory, she lowered herself and leaned into his fierce hug, doing her best to hide her discomfort from her injuries. A shuddering breath escaped her, followed by a sniffle. Tears welled up, and despite her best efforts to keep things solemn in preparation for her apology, she broke down when she heard him sobbing with his face buried in her clothes. Warmth seeped through as his hot tears soaked into her scarf. “I—I’m so, so sor—sorry for hurting you,” she blubbered. “I’m sorry for running away.” “H—hey, you came back, right? That’s the important part.” Spike emphasised that last bit by hugging her more tightly. A sharp hiss escaped her. “Eek—careful. I think my ribs aren’t fully healed.” “Sorry.” He loosened up a bit, and they simply held each other, crying and making up for lost time. She couldn’t remember how long they stayed that way, but they eventually parted, and Spike swept his gaze over her form. Slowly, he reached up and tugged at the scarf, pulling it down to reveal more scabs and bruises down her neck and chest. “Whoa. What happened to you? I mean, aside from, you know… And that’s a crazy manecut.” Twilight brushed the top of her head, feeling the unruly and spiky hair poking through her coat. “It is, isn’t it?” She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Long story short, I crashed into somepony’s house and spent a few days getting better. Nothing’s permanently broken.” At least, as far as I can tell… His eyes widened. “You gotta’ tell me about it over dinner.” He glanced back at the stove and scratched his head. “You eaten yet? I’ll whip something up if you’re hungry.” “Speaking of dinner…” Twilight frowned at him. “We really should finish discussing the fact that you just ate one of your scales. Why?” Spike grinned sheepishly and raised a claw. “Eh heh. Funny you should ask only now. I, uh, actually eat my shed scales whenever I can. Been doing it for some time since we moved from Canterlot.” “I don’t remember ever seeing you do that.” He twiddled his thumbs. “Never did it in front of you. Mum caught me doing it once and made me stop; I only started again after we moved in on our own. It’s… sort of on instinct, you know? Feels like the right thing to do. Scales need lots of minerals to grow, and I’m just putting it back in.” He scratched his head for a moment, thinking, and then snapped his claws. “You know, like how some bugs will eat their own moult or eggshells!” “You sure you don’t just pass them out?” “I don’t,” he deadpanned. “Don’t ask me how I know.” She blinked as she digested that, then nodded slowly. “Okay. A little TMI, but okay.” He nodded and rubbed his hands together. “So, what’ll it b—” “Ah-ah-ah.” Twilight waved a hoof and strode past him, eliciting a panicked yelp as she went straight for the frying pan. A brownish lump sat in the middle of it, still giving off steam. One sniff nearly sent her reeling, and she whirled back to face him. “Spike, is that what I think it is?” “It… yeah.” His shoulders sagged. “It’s meat.” “Where did you even get that?” “Well, Pinkie knows this pegasus who knows how to hunt. Even eats what he catches, too. Scary guy. Anyway, I’ve been curious for a long time, so… I just asked for some?” He fiddled with the tip of his tail and averted his eyes. “I’m pretty sure dragons eat it every now and then.” “Does it taste good?” A second later, Twilight quickly followed up in case he got the wrong idea. “No, I mean, do you feel like it’s important to your health? A part of your instinct?” He nodded without making eye contact. Twilight pondered on it for a moment before letting out a sigh. “I don’t fault Owlowicious for eating mice, so I can’t blame you, either. So long as it doesn’t affect you like a hoard would, and so long as you don’t eat anypony’s pets, I don’t think it’s something you should be ashamed about. You are a dragon, after all; we can’t force you to live like a pony in every way.” Spike looked up with hope in his eyes. “So…” She glanced back at the pan and stepped aside, shrugging. “Sure, go for it. Just remember to clean up or the staff might get a real scare. I’m not sure if anypony will ever want to touch that pan anymore.” He grinned. “Good thing I bought this one just for myself, then.” After prodding the chunk of meat with his spatula, he nodded in satisfaction and hopped off the stool to pull another pan out of the lower cupboard. “So, what’ll you have?” “Hay fries sound amazing right now,” she replied as she retrieved a bag of tea over from the larder. “And I think I can cook for myself.” “No way.” “But I—” He shook his head and waved the spatula at her in emphasis. “No offence, but you look like a starving homeless mare. I’m making sure you have the best dinner ever, tonight.” Not the most flattering comparison, but Twilight decided to let that slide in favour of his enthusiasm. He didn’t get to play big sibling very often, and she didn’t want to take that away from him so soon after getting reunited. So, she grinned and trotted over to the table, saying, “Fine, you win. But I’m taking care of breakfast tomorrow, okay?” “If you’re up to it, sure.” Twilight heated her mug of tea with a well-rationed heat spell and sipped casually, closing her eyes in bliss as she savoured the warmth and rich flavour. “Ooh, that’s perfect.” “Oh right,” he suddenly exclaimed. “We’ve got to send a letter to Princess Celestia!” A pang of guilt welled up the same time as she shuddered from the void’s cold grip on her insides. She failed to suppress a gasp, but the sizzling oil from Spike’s cooking had at least conveniently drowned out her voice. She took a moment to steady herself before she said, “Can it wait till after dinner?” He turned around and tilted his head. “Don’t you want to see them?” “I do. But maybe not tonight.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she got her words out first. “Please? I—I just don’t know if I’m ready to face my friends yet.” She rubbed her forehead and sighed. “One step at a time. Can we just enjoy tonight by ourselves?” “Promise me that you’re really okay? I mean, even if you need some space, can I at least tell ‘em that you’re back tomorrow? Everypony’s been real worried about you.” She gave him a weak smile and nodded. “I promise to see everypony again, soon. I’m not running away again. I just need some time.” “Well, if you’re sure.” He nodded and went back to cooking. And then, almost below hearing, she heard him add in an undertone, “Love you, Twi.” She smiled, feeling another round of tears coming up. “Love you too, Spike.” * * * * * “Think that was the last of it?” Spike asked. “Hrk—bleaarghh!” Spike winced in sympathy as Twilight leaned over the side of the bed and gurgled out another torrent of brownish slop mixed with lovely, floating lumps into the bucket. “What a way to—nngh—start the day. And I thought I was over this sort of thing…” she croaked. “Should I tell everypony to come back another day?” She started shaking her head but stopped when that threatened to send another wave up from her belly. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I think I should do this before I—urp—before I lose my nerve.” Spike patted her gently on the back when she dry-heaved again. “You sure? Aren’t they, you know, making it worse? I remember something about that.” Yes, they are. She could feel the presence of a couple of alicorns in addition to several other unicorns in the halls below, all the way from her bedroom. Rarity’s magical signature felt familiar enough, but Celestia’s and Luna’s felt distorted, somehow. Definitely weaker than what she remembered, but too strong to be anypony else she knew. Had she caused them permanent harm? She remembered stealing some of their magic as she fled from home… She blinked and saw them. Right there, turning their backs to her when she couldn’t give a good enough reason for hiding that monstrosity right under Ponyville. How does one make up for something like that? “I... maybe you’re right. Could you tell th—” Twilight gasped when a flash of purple light exploded in the room, right next to the bed. Spike yelped and nearly toppled into the bucket, but she managed to hold him back with a wing whilst she used her foreleg to shield her eyes. When the afterimages had faded away, she saw herself standing on a sooty spot on the floor. “Oh, no you don’t,” Future Twilight growled, pointing a primary feather at her the same way Spike could with a claw. “You didn’t go to all that trouble just to chicken out at the last minute.” “Oh boy,” Spike commented. “That’s right.” Future Twilight nodded at him. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. And I’m here to make sure I don’t blow it when I’m so close to setting things right.” Twilight stared at her older self. She couldn’t have come from the immediate future; she had already regrown all of her feathers and hair. A couple of scars stood out on her muzzle and shoulder where the coat had thinned out a little, but aside from that, she looked healthy enough. The biggest difference, though, was in the way she carried herself; her eyes had a gaunt-like quality to them, as if ages of hardship haunted her, but she still balanced that out with a firm-set jaw and stood tall and steady like a Royal Guard – like Shining Armour. She actually looked tough. “Does… does this mean that I actually get better? It’s all over?” Future Twilight chuckled. “Hah. Good one.” Twilight blinked. “Hmm. I guess I still need to work on my delivery technique. All right, I suppose I can give away this much: I’m not totally consumed by my problem yet, so at least you know you’ll get this far.” She then gave them a grim smile. “But of course, for all we know, I could break tomorrow and give Tirek a run for his bits, so there’s always that.” She frowned. “When exactly are you from?’ “That information isn’t crucial in your situation.” Her older self grinned when Twilight’s eye twitched. “Now I know why everypony loves teasing me like this. Oh, it’s so nice to be on the other side of it!” Twilight snorted and folded her forelegs. “Fine. Be that way. Anything else you’re here to do besides forcing me to meet my friends? Because right now I feel like refusing just to spite myself.” Future Twilight kept grinning and held up a hoof. “You know, we never made good on that plan to punch our past self in the face.” Spike shook his head. “Wow. Since when did you become the bruiser type?” Despite probably idle threat, she bristled at her challenging tone. “That doesn’t scare me.” “I also know the ending of Daring Do and the Song of Rice and Pyre.” She felt her ears, wings and jaw go slack. “You wouldn’t. That hasn’t even come out yet. You’re bluffing!” “Do you really want to risk that?” Spike whistled. “I take that back, Future Twilight. You’ve become a monster.” Twilight growled to herself and glared, searching for a way to circumvent the ultimatum. Then, finding none that didn’t involve a cataclysmic series of events or some degree of self-brutalising, she bowed her head in resignation. “Fine. I’ll see my friends today. Happy now?” Her older self trotted forward, sat in front of her and placed a hoof under her chin. Twilight looked up and saw that her older self’s expression had softened, and for a moment, Future Twilight reminded her of Celestia. “No, but you’ll be,” she said with an encouraging smile, “once you return to your friends. Trust me; it’s got to be better than the alternative.” Twilight sighed. “Okay. But can you at least tell me how—” “No.” “But—” “Nope! I’m not playing cheat sheet for you any more than necessary; you’re going to tough it out like I had to.” Twilight blinked. Her older self’s stern frown fractured with a twitch, and a giggle burst forth before she got it under control and gushed, “Oh, I’ve waited so long to deliver that line. Hee!” And then she switched back to her serious face. “But seriously, deal with it on your own. I’ve abused this spell enough as it is. Bye!” And just like that, she vanished in another flash of light. “So, that happened,” Spike quipped. “Yup. I can’t believe I just used time travel to blackmail myself.” She rubbed her temples and let out her breath in one long, drawn out sigh. “This has all the signs of a bad habit in the making.” “Want some water?” “Not yet.” Twilight closed her eyes and waited as her churning stomach settled down. Future Twilight had provided a nice distraction, but with her gone she had to go back to reciting her usual mathematical theorems and performing calculations in her head to avoid sinking into a funk. The routine helped to soothe the mind and blot out unwanted stimuli, and she eventually felt ready to try getting out of bed. Spike helped her down slowly, and she found out with some relief that she could move around and get some things done without exacerbating her condition. After sipping some water from a glass he’d provided, Twilight proceeded to groom herself as best she could. They couldn’t do much about her injuries, but at least they could clean off the worst of the dirt from her trek across the countryside and cut down on the end-of-the-world survivor aspect of her appearance. Her mane refused to stay down with so little length to them, so she unfortunately had to leave it spiky. But at least her feathers had regrown sufficiently to appear almost normal, if a little uneven in places. Once satisfied, they left the room and headed downstairs. “Future You really could have cleaned the floor before going,” Spike grumbled as he cast a glance back at the room. “Magical residue is a nightmare to get off of crystal.” “I’ll get it later. I have a feeling she did that on purpose to make me use magic.” They paused outside the doors to the guest hall. Twilight felt as if her legs had turned to jelly, and that a spectral chain had looped around her neck to keep her from entering. She could just imagine all eyes falling on her as she opened the door, their judgement shattering any hope of mending bridges. Murmurs and whispers behind her back, accusations to her face, everypony calling back to her failure to control her worst instincts… “Breathe, Twi. It'll be okay. I’ve got your back,” Spike said with a pat on her shoulder. Twilight snapped her eyes shut and buried those thoughts. Your friends are better than that. Don’t insult them. Let things play out first and move on from there. Sighing, she opened her eyes and pushed against the doors. “Right. Let’s go.” The guest hall could probably accommodate a thousand ponies at once, but it did have several alcoves along its sides to allow for cosier meetings with smaller groups of ponies. The nearest one had a several plush couches, bean bags, bookshelves and coffee tables arranged about, and she saw that everypony had already made themselves comfortable within. Upon spotting her approach, they all rose to greet her, which only made it more difficult for her to keep moving. She almost felt like a criminal being led to stand before a panel of judges. Her skin felt tight and oversensitive to changes in air temperature and her heart rate refused to drop down to anything that resembled a reasonable pace. Twilight stopped just short of entering the alcove and forced out a weak smile. “Hi, everypony.” “Sweetie!” A purple and light grey projectile shot towards her in an instant, and Twilight very nearly reacted with a protective barrier. Thankfully, she didn’t send her mother flying and simply grunted when they collided with a bone-crushing hug. Her mother released her and whirled around her in a frenzy, cataloguing her injuries between gasps and quick outbursts. “Young lady, you had us so worried! What happened to you? You’re hurt here, here and here and oh my goodness, are you—did you break your wings?” “I’m okay, Mum. It’s not as bad as it looks. Just the feathers.” She looked past her mother and saw Night Light hanging back, apparently content to let Twilight Velvet have his share of invading her personal space and fussing all over her for the time being. “Hi, Dad.” “Sure you’re okay?” he asked. Not exactly. She felt their magic. She wanted it. She needed it. But she could also feel Celestia and Luna lurking in the background, looking a little tense and uncomfortable. Despite showing no aura on their horns, she could feel some magical distortions that indicated stealthy spellwork. Probably had teleportation spells to get everypony out of harm’s way if she lost control. No. Not this time. Keep it together. Tacky had put his faith in her. Her family and friends had put their faith in her; they wouldn’t have shown up otherwise. If she couldn’t do it for herself, she could at least try not to shame them for their trust and forgiveness. Failure is not an option. “Twily?” “I’m okay, Dad. It just takes a bit of getting used to.” Her mother paused in her fussing. “Do you… do you need us to back off a bit?” She shook her head. “I’ve got this. I’m okay, really.” “Thank goodness.” Twilight braced herself as her mother and father hugged her fiercely. “Our little filly’s grown so strong…” She felt herself tearing up all over again and sniffled as she returned their hug. “I love you. I’m sorry for scaring you.” “It’s not your fault.” Night Light threw a pointed look at Celestia and Luna. “Don’t ever blame yourself for this.” Twilight detected a steely undercurrent in his tone. The stiffness of his jaw also hinted at some unpleasant thoughts. “Dad, you… you don’t actually blame the princesses either, right?” Her mother sniffled and wiped away a tear. “Let’s not get into that now, Sweetie. Everypony’s already said all that needs to be said about that.” “I… yeah, okay.” She could leave that for another day. “Shining and Cadance are on the way. They’ll get here later tonight,” Night Light announced. Then, he nudged her mother and added, “Come on, Honey, I think Twily’s friends want to have a turn as well.” Her parents gave her a parting hug and retreated to one of the couches as her friends trotted over. Everypony looked pretty solemn; even Pinkie had managed to tone down on her usual exuberance, though only just a bit. “Ooh, I like the new manecut!” she said as she flitted over to her side and explored the top of her mane with a hoof. “Hee hee, so spiky; it’s like a scrubbing brush!” “Yes, darling. Umm, it does look a little… rugged.” Twilight giggled at Rarity’s feeble attempt to conceal her horror. The eye-twitching, strained smile and slight pallor really gave away her feelings on the matter. “It’s okay; you can let it out. I can tell you’re itching to help me get it back into order.” Rarity grinned sheepishly and sighed in relief. “Oh, of course, dear. I didn’t quite mean it that way, but I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.” “Pfft. You kidding? That manestyle looks awesome. It’s almost as radical as mine!” Twilight spotted Applejack rolling her eyes. “Come on, girls. After what she’s been through, pretty sure we can say the mane’s the least of her worries.” Her eyes softened when she focused on Twilight. “You holding up okay on the inside, sugar cube?” “I think she already told her parents she was fine,” Fluttershy half-whispered from behind the others. I can lie. I’ve had a lot of practice. Twilight discarded the bitter thought and looked at each one of them in turn. Despite the ease of responding to everypony just now, taking the initiative did not come quite as easily. Her heart raced as she remembered the past few nights – the disapproval, disappointment and even fear. Celestia and Luna were watching her back there, lying in the shadows behind her friends. More than just dreams; too easy to cross over into reality. The words stuck in her throat like dry, burnt pastry, choking her into silence. “Girls, I…” Oh, for goodness sake. This again? I thought I’d already stopped clamming up five minutes ago! It didn’t help much to clear her voice, though. “It’s okay, Twilight. Take it slowly,” said Fluttershy. Rainbow nodded. “Yeah. Nopony’s asking for an epic speech. Just say what’s on your mind and get it over with.” Their smiles of encouragement did not match what she remembered. If that trend held up, then maybe the rest of it would deviate from her dream as well. Here goes… “Girls, I’m sorry for not trusting that you had my best interests at heart. I didn’t mean to get mad at you for wanting to make me feel better.” Twilight sighed and looked away. “I’m sorry for attacking you and running away. It’s all a bit hazy now, but I kept thinking you were all treating me like a foal when I knew I should’ve been punished instead. I—actually, never mind. That’s not important anymore. I don’t even know if I’m remembering things right.” She forced herself to stop biting her lip, then turned back to look them in the eyes once more. “Can you forgive me?” “Of course we can, darling.” “Yeah. S’what friends do, after all. Fluttershy trotted close and hugged her. “We’re sorry, too, Twilight. If you thought we were babying you, well… we promise to respect your maturity in dealing with this.” “Aww…” Pinkie sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Incoming group hug!” Twilight choked back a sniffle as her friends surrounded her with warmth. “I missed you girls.” “So did we, sugar cube. So did we.” “Of course,” Rainbow said with a grin, “you know this means we’re gonna come down harder on you if you start pinching magic again, since you wanna be treated like a big mare and all that.” “Dash!” Twilight chuckled. “It’s okay, Rarity. She’s right; I have to own up to my mistakes and face the consequences, and I’d rather do it with you girls by my side than alone in exile.” “Group hug: Round Two?” Pinkie asked. Rainbow and Applejack rolled their eyes, but Twilight didn’t care as she pulled them all together again. I guess it wasn’t so bad, after all, she thought as tears slipped out between her eyelids. When she opened her eyes again, all six of them separated to make room as Celestia and Luna came trotting into their midst. Her mother and father hung back, watching. Celestia addressed the others. “May we take Twilight for a walk? We promise not to keep her for too long.” “Don’t see why not. Yer the princess, after all.” When nopony contested Applejack’s consent, Spike went over to their mother and took her by the foreleg. “Come on, while they talk, I can show you guys around. You’ve got to see the size of our new reading room!” Celestia smiled and trotted in the opposite direction as he began leading everypony off on an impromptu tour of the palace. Twilight followed suit, with Luna trailing some distance behind. Tuning out their magical signatures proved easier than anticipated; she didn’t have to do much more than occupying her idle mind with the usual stuff she’d already tried. She put on a little speed and trotted alongside Celestia. “Princess, are you okay?” “Yes. Why do you ask?” “Your magic. It feels weaker than normal.” She swallowed, but it didn’t do much to help her suddenly-dry mouth. She glanced back at Luna. “Did I cause permanent damage that time I, you know…” “Oh, that.” Celestia smiled and shook her head. “No, you didn’t take anything we couldn’t recover on our own. But are you certain that our magic feels weaker?” “Yes. It’s actually easier to ignore.” “Ah. Then our countermeasures appear to work,” Luna piped up. Twilight raised her eyebrows. “Come again?” Celestia tilted her head forward and gestured with a hoof towards her horn. And then Twilight spotted it – a black, metallic ring around the base of her horn, partially obscured by her mane. Luna had one, too. Due to their height, she simply hadn’t noticed when they stood straight up. She skidded to a halt as ice water flowed through her veins. “Wait, wait. You’re wearing anti-magic rings? But—but that’s insane! Why? You don’t have to do that for me, I—” “Hush, Twilight.” “But it’s poisonous. The taint! You—” “Shh…” Celestra draped a wing over her and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t worry about us. What’s important is that we can spend time together without needlessly tormenting you.” “Indeed. Besides, these aren’t the barbaric devices of old,” Luna added. “After you left, Tia dug up some old rings from the vault and set the brightest minds in Canterlot to devising a variant that didn’t torture and ultimately poison its wearer. These are the result of their efforts – you find our presence tolerable, do you not?” Twilight could never imagine being forced to put one of those things on, let alone doing it on purpose. Only the most cruel of institutions in history ever used them freely – King Sombra’s rule was one – and within Canterlot itself, only the most unrepentant, hardened of criminals ever got that as punishment, and even then, ponies usually relented when they saw the effects of taint on the wearer: nausea, migraines, extensive hair loss and ghastly, burn-like marks on the skin. Heck, the core metal that gave anti-magic implements their properties was even named Sombrarite. Anything with a name like that spelled bad news all around, but if somepony had managed to counteract taint’s effects… “How’d you do it?” she asked as she inspected their rings. “Substitute materials? Alloying?” Celestia smiled. “I thought that might pique your interest. Some resourceful ponies had diamond dog contacts; they provided us with metal samples that allegedly had similar properties. We discovered that one of them could suppress magic with only a fraction of the side effects. Not quite as effectively as Sombrarite, but as far as we can tell, it doesn’t harm alicorns in the short term. We get mild headaches, but they’re tolerable.” It hurt, but Twilight silently vowed not to see them any more than necessary if they planned to wear those things whenever they met. Despite their assurances, she still wouldn’t trust those things until she personally got to see the papers on their testing procedures. Either that, or she’d just have to hold off until she’d built up a tolerance to the point where she could safely walk amongst them without struggling with the urge to drain them to the bone. For the time being, though, Twilight could see their value. She wasn’t sure if she could’ve maintained control without the rings suppressing their magic. She nodded. “Okay, can we talk about something else?” “Anything you like, Twilight.” “Uh…” She hadn’t expected Celestia to let her steer the conversation so quickly. For a moment, she could only trot after her mentor in silence, searching for something that didn’t ultimately lead to depressing matters. Then, she decided that maybe she didn’t need words straight away. Following her like that had always assured her of safety back in Canterlot, when they might simply enjoy a walk together down the quiet hallways. They’d often done so if she had awoken in the middle of a nightmare. These few weeks definitely qualify… Celestia led her to a balcony and went out, heedless of the cold air, and then sat down on her haunches. Twilight followed her to the railings and gazed over Ponyville, which lay partially shrouded in morning fog, sheltered from the sun by heavy clouds. Not the best weather for outdoor activity on a Sunday morning, so she didn’t see many ponies outside – only a few shady figures hurrying about here and there. She shivered when a stiff breeze sent the chill right through her. “Sorry. Too cold?” Celestia asked. Twilight shook her head. “No, it’s just, uh, stimulating. I’ll be okay.” “Hmm.” Celestia didn’t sound too convinced, and responded by shifting closer and draping a wing over her. Twilight first felt inclined to wriggle away and hold out on her own, but all that warmth in the soft feathers convinced her otherwise. Luna also sat by on her other side, angled just right to act as a barrier to the incoming wind. She appreciated their companionship. The silence, not so much. Her mind somehow filled it with the echoes of somepony’s screams in the darkness – probably her own, though she couldn’t remember sounding like that. And though they wore inhibitors, she could still feel their magi— Argh! “What am I going to do?” she murmured. “It’s still there…” Her elders didn’t answer immediately. Instead, they maintained a steady gaze over the town, like two statues frozen in time. After what felt like a distressingly long stretch of silence, Celestia looked at her. “What we all do, Twilight: you move on and make the best of it.” She sighed. “I hear that a lot.” “It bears repeating,” Luna pointed out. “Sometimes we need reminders when life wears us down. Forgetting your mistakes is not the goal; learning from them is.” I can’t ever bring you back, but I can learn from you. She remembered saying the same to her reflection back in Winder’s house. “Yeah. I guess I’ll have to try.” She stared at the floor as she leaned into Celestia’s side, feeling like a little filly lost in school again. A thought struck her, and she flattened her ears in apology as she turned to face Luna. “I’m sorry, but I think I lost your lifeward amulet. I can’t remember where I was when I threw it away.” Luna blinked several times as her brow furrowed in thought. Twilight could already see the pain in her eyes, in the way her ears laid back. The same for Celestia. All those memories, a precious gift from one sister to another, lost. All due to her carelessness… But before she could say anything else, Luna regained her composure and locked eyes with her, saying, “In the grand scheme of things, it is just a trinket, Twilight. You are home and of sound mind; that is worth more than any mere necklace. All is forgiven.” “I—but I…” Twilight coughed when she felt herself choking up on tears again and simply nodded. “I—thanks. I’m sorry. I just wish I hadn’t done nothing but hurt everypony so much with this whole mess.” “Not true, actually,” Celestia pointed out. Twilight blinked and looked up to see her smiling. “Huh?” “We found your notes. That healing spell of yours was far quicker and more effective than anything the best hospitals and colleges had in their grimoires.” Celestia paused for a moment, tilted her head thoughtfully, then added, “At least, the ones that don’t involve damaging another creature’s life essence. For something so potent, your spell was remarkably clean.” “Really?” Celestia nodded with a smile. “Yes, Twilight. You had a unique method of interweaving the inherent magic of all three races, and we already have a few colleges conducting research on how regular unicorns may replicate your spell with the assistance of pegasi and earth ponies. If their projections are correct, you’ve probably just advanced arcane medicine by several decades.” Her jaw dropped. The possibility of contributing that much to medical research in one go had never crossed her mind. She could almost see professors with their lecture notes already. Calculations, spell matrices, potential amplifiers and catalysts. Pure, academic knowledge shared between ponies. The day seemed almost brighter, already. “That… that’s nice,” she said with a little smile. Then, she remembered Golden Oaks Library, and a little of her enthusiasm drained away. “But what happened to the tree?” Celestia and Luna shared worried looks, and Twilight felt a pit open up inside her. “We are sorry, but we fear that the tree did not take well to the surge of chaos and dark magic so close to its roots.” Luna averted her eyes. “We did what we could; Discord even assisted in removing that vicious plant of his, but even a full purge of latent energies did not undo the damage. I fear that this time, the tree is well and truly dead.” Twilight nodded. So much for a happy ending. Not that you deserved one, anyway. Sight and sound lost their meaning as she remembered all the time she’d spent in there, studying by herself, spending time with friends, reading with Spike, learning, living. After losing it once, she never could have imagined destroying it herself. And yet she had, all because of her inability to control herself. Her muscles tightened as details of that morning came back to her. Even after every— “Twilight.” Celestia’s soft but firm tone, in conjunction with a steadying hoof on her shoulder disrupted her train of thought, and she soon realised that she’d clenched up almost to the point of hurting. She wilfully loosened her muscles, imagining the tension leaving her like steam from a hot plate. Then, she shook her head and murmured, “I don’t even feel like crying now. I think I should, given what’s happened, but I just feel… blank. What’s wrong with me?” “Sorrow doesn’t always manifest as tears, and neither does regret,” Luna said as she draped a wing over her back. “And sometimes, it is all right to feel nothing. The pain may come later, or it may not, but you are not a bad pony if your heart has been temporarily overwhelmed to the point of numbness.” “The more important thing is to learn to move on and not let it drag you down forever,” Celestia added. “I’ll never be rid of this, will I? I can’t undo it.” Luna shook her head. “Perhaps not immediately, but you should not lose hope of recovery. You may recall that I too suffered what you do, and it no longer troubles me overmuch. Others have even cast it off entirely throughout history. But even if it never leaves you completely, know this: we all have our burdens to carry, Twilight. Some are lifelong and heavier than others, true, but giving up is the one sure way to let them end you.” Burdens… She remembered that lonely dream in the desert, chained to the ground in an empty sanctuary. Luna carried on, oblivious to the thoughts in her head. “You need not carry them alone, though. We may not be able carry each other’s burdens, but we can all still go together. That counts for something.” Twilight looked out towards Ponyville and spotted the remains of the library in the distance. If she squinted just right, she thought she could see its browning shoots withering away. A deep ache set into her heart for a moment, but at the same time, so did steely resolve. It filled her, and the cold wind lost its bite. If I have any say in the matter, Golden Oaks will be the last thing I ever destroy. I promise. If I have to drag my chains wherever I go for the rest of my life, then so be it. Twilight nodded. “I think I understand.” “Well, I suppose we can take our advice to heart immediately.” Celestia rose to all fours and carefully nudged her along. “We’ve kept you away from your friends and family long enough. They’ll like to spend the day with you for as long as you’re able.” “We’ll want to hear about what you did whilst you were away, too,” Luna added. Twilight faltered, drawing surprised glances from both of them. Family. “Sorry,” she hastily said. “I just remembered a promise I made. It’s, uh… complicated. I know it sounds like I’m hiding something, but I need time to figure things out until I’m ready to talk about it.” Celestia nodded. “Take your time. We’ll listen when you need us.” “Thanks. I think you’ll like to hear about the new friends I made.” Twilight slowly trotted after them, remembering the time she spent with Winder and Tacky. Then, she added, “Also, I don’t know whether you were watching me or not, but thanks for giving me some space to clear my head on my own. I appreciate it.” They took a fraction of a second too long to answer, and she caught them sharing a quick look. Celestia’s half-lidded, sideways glance with one raised eyebrow at Luna practically had ‘I told you so’ written all over it, and Luna fluttered her wings uneasily when Twilight looked directly at her. Okay, what was it? Sentries in the clouds? Dreamwalking? She didn’t feel angry. Just curious. Luna dipped her head. “Apologies, Twilight. Tia had advised Discord and I against following you, but I… I did worry about your wellbeing. After hearing nothing of you for three days, I could no longer refrain from searching your dreams. When I found your mind and could estimate your physical location, I was quite ready to come charging in with a search party to bring you back. Possibly even against your wishes, like an overbearing sister.” She chuckled mirthlessly. “Fine irony, that.” Twilight took a moment to rack her brain and then frowned. “That’s funny. I don’t remember seeing you in my dreams.” Luna gave her a stern glare. “Don’t insult me, Twilight. You’ve made your choice. This one’s mine.” Her expression then softened, with a smile tugging at her lips. “Remember now?” Twilight’s eyes widened, and she stared agape for a couple of seconds before she found her voice again. “Wait. You’re Gorbash?” Celestia nodded gravely. “I’m sorry if you were disappointed.” Luna elbowed her sister in the ribs, who then playfully batted her away and giggled. She huffed indignantly, returning her attention to Twilight. “You dreamed of him; I simply took advantage of the convenience. I wanted to keep you company. Tia, naturally, wasn’t very happy when she found out I’d gone behind her back on that.” “Well, you actually helped me that night.” Twilight remembered the shadow stalking them, and her screams as it tore them apart. “Luck. I think it could just as easily have ended in further resentment, had your dream been less perilous.” After a moment’s thought, Twilight had to concede to that. “Maybe. I’m glad it worked out, anyway.” “Speaking of working out…” Luna tilted her head this way and that as she inspected Twilight’s appendages and grinned wolfishly. “If you haven’t lost interest, we are long, long overdue for our next sparring lesson. I worry that you have softened with such a long break.” As if. “If we have the time, sure.” Far as she could tell, it hadn’t lost its value as a distraction. Learning seemed to help, whether physical or mental. Of course, she’d have to balance that out between all the other new things she had to do. Chiefly, figuring out a way to introduce everypony to the idea of peacefully having changelings in their midst without first going through a nationwide panic. Keeping up with Winder to learn about his culture in preparation for integration alone would take up a sizable portion of her time. You’ll play your part. Hah. Careful what you wish for. What she wouldn’t give to one day see a classroom with unicorns, pegasi, earth ponies and changelings together. Maybe toss in a couple of griffons and zebras, too. “What are you smiling about?” Her mentor had tilted her head in puzzlement. “Oh, just a friendship problem,” Twilight said. She looked between Celestia and Luna, then trotted past them and back indoors. Little steps. One day at a time.