//------------------------------// // 21. Getting Closer // Story: Twilight's World // by grouchopony //------------------------------// All of Mike's extremities ached and burned from the cold but what hurt most especially was his face, having been exposed to the cold winter air for several hours now. On the journey back, Mike was forced to drive the snowmobile at a reduced speed in order to minimize the wind upon his cheeks and lower forehead. I thought I was getting a deal when I bought this snowmobile off that guy and he threw in the helmet for free. Now I know why he gave it away. It doesn't have a face shield! Mike thought ruefully as he ducked his head down to minimize the wind on his face. For the most part he was driving blind, only looking up occasionally to briefly check on his position. Twilight's raised voice came to him over the sound of the engine. “A little to the left, Mike.” Looking up, Mike saw that he was approaching the fence which separated the field from his house and yard and that he wasn't quite aligned with the opening. On his present course he would crash right into the fence. Easing off on the throttle reduced his speed while a quick correction on the handlebars brought the snowmobile into alignment with the opening. Looking out to the side where he had heard Twilight's voice, Mike was startled to see her flying right alongside him at about shoulder level, just over a meter away; if he reached out an arm he might, almost, be able to touch her wingtip. Twilight's flight took a sudden wobble as a stiff gust of crosswind overtook her and messed with her feathers. “Ah!” She cried, before recovering. Turning to look at him, she flashed him a smile. “How long have you been there?” He shouted back, curious as to why he had not noticed her presence earlier. “Ever since I noticed that you weren't keeping up with me, which was at the other end of this field. I looked back when I thought I heard you screaming.” “I had to slow down,” Mike replied, “the wind on my face was hurting really bad.” Twilight acknowledged Mike's statement with an exaggerated nod of her head. Mike had now passed through the fence opening and was coming up on his garage. He reduced his throttle nearly all the way, until the snowmobile was only moving at a walking pace. Keeping the speed low, Mike drove alongside his garage, turned, and finally took the snowmobile straight inside the structure. After killing the engine, Mike briefly considered the merits of just abandoning everything to make a dash for the comforts of his home. Pushing aside the minor temptation, Mike stiffly unlimbered himself from the machine and started removing his backpack from where he had secured it behind his seat. His numb hands and feet did not make the task easy. It was with the utmost relief that Mike entered his home, feeling the blessed caress of warm air upon his cheeks. The relief was so palpable that Mike immediately zoned out until a light shove on his back, accompanied by the sensation of magic brought him back to his senses again. Quickly he stepped aside, out of Twilight's way. “Sorry Twilight. I got caught up in the feeling of warm air on my face.” “Well there's better ways to warm up besides standing in an open doorway.” She said, swinging the door closed with her magic. “But I agree, coming in to the warmth is quite nice,” she gave a sniff, “though a little smelly.” Twilight's eyes expanded suddenly and then contracted as she realized her gaffe. Her ears dropped. “N-not that I meant anything by that last comment. I-It's just that every home smells different. My friend Pinkie's home always smells of cake and icing and Applejack's home smells of cooking, apples and wood. And Fluttershy's home smells−” “Relax, Twilight.” Mike interrupted. “I'm not offended. That my home has a unique smell to you I can well understand; it's only natural that my lifestyle and -ahem- male charm,” Twilight giggled, “has imparted a unique imprint upon this home's aroma. The question is, does it bother you?” The question seemed to surprise Twilight. “No. Not really.” She began to sway from side to side as she took a moment to consider the matter. “In fact, I don't even notice it anymore and there wasn't anything really objectionable about it. It was just − different.” Twilight suddenly seemed to become aware of her swaying motion even as her hoofs began to tap restlessly on the floor. Again her eyes expanded momentarily, announcing she had come to some inner realization. “Ah− sorry, Mike. I've got to go!” Twilight excused herself and dashed up the stairs, announcing her intentions with the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut. Mike grinned to himself as he put together the clues of Twilight's recent body language. Mike's smirk vanished suddenly as his own bladder decided its time had come. Suddenly Mike was standing outside the door of the only bathroom in the house while performing his own dance. He pounded on the door. “Hurry up, Twilight! I have to go too!” --------------------- More than anything, Mike wanted a hot shower, to take the chill out of his bones, but he chose instead to make it tepid. Even with the water at such a mild temperature, his hands, feet and face felt as if they were close to burning. It took more than a few minutes of cautious exposure to the stimulating flow of water before he began to feel normal again. After the shower he got dressed in some warm dry clothes and proceeded down the stairs into the kitchen to make himself a hot drink. Mike's first thought was to make himself a cup of coffee but something about that didn't seem right. We deserve a little treat. He thought. A little reward to ourselves for our accomplishments today. As he waited for the kettle to boil, Mike set out a tray for Twilight. He thought she might enjoy something different, so he placed a selection of herbal tea bags on a saucer which went on the tray with her cup. For his own treat, Mike made himself a cup of hot Mocha, stirring in a generous dash of cream to make it richer. The kettle clicked itself off just as he finished making his drink. Coming out of the kitchen with a tray of steaming hot drinks, Mike paused to observe Twilight who was lying prone upon the sofa, scribing industriously in her notepad. He made his way towards Twilight, placing the tray upon the coffee table and sat down beside her. For her part, Twilight gave no indication of having noticed his arrival. Mike lifted his mug and took a sip. Oh yeah! That hits the spot. Slowly sipping his specialty coffee, Mike sat in languorous silence, observing Twilight as she wrote her copious notes. Probably observations and theories about what we found in the forest clearing. He thought. What Mike failed to observe was his own growing fascination with Twilight. Thoughts and concepts flashed through his brain. Thoughts such as 'smart', 'intelligent' and 'industrious' dominated while other concepts such as 'lovely', 'kind' and 'cute' hovered in the background, filling in any rough edges the front-line thoughts may have held. Mike's mind was curiously ambiguous about whether he found Twilight to be cute-adorable or cute-attractive. If one delved a little deeper, the concepts of 'girl' and 'pony' vied equally against each other, perhaps explaining the ambiguity. Twilight's horn had been glowing continuously as she manipulated her pen and pad, so there was no warning when the last sheet she had written tore itself out of her notepad and rolled up into a little scroll hovering in mid-air. A second sheet tore free of the same notepad. It glowed brightly as it seemed to melt and flow, transforming itself into a paper band that wrapped itself snugly around the first scroll of paper. Focusing his eyes upon it, Mike caught a glimpse of raised insignia which seemed suspiciously similar to Twilight's own flank markings. Mike's observations were cut short however as Twilight pulsed her horn brightly, resulting in the near instant immolation of the scroll by rose colored flames. It left behind a dense cloud of rose tinted smoke that sparkled, roiled and darted about as if it were alive. Mike jerked back as the cloud of smoke streaked past his face. Instinctively he turned his head, trying to keep it in view. He barely caught a glimpse of the smoke disappearing into the fireplace. His first thought was to exclaim, “What was that?” “Oh. Mike!” Twilight called out. “Sorry for startling you like that, I didn't see you there.” Her remark confirmed to Mike that she had been oblivious to his arrival. Mike's second thought was, “No harm done, except that I might have spilled some of my coffee.” Mike looked carefully down at his shirt and lap, searching for any telltale wet marks. Finding nothing amiss, he looked up at Twilight again. “Nope, I'm good. What was that you just did? Oh, and before I forget, I brought you some tea.” He waved a hand toward the tray on the table. “Why thank you, Mike.” She gave him a smile, her ears perking up. “I was just sending a letter to Spike. He's my assistant. It was sort of an experiment to see if I could contact him with dragon mail from this location. And it looks like it worked.” Twilight was staring at the saucer with the tea bags. “Why are there three tea bags on the saucer?” “I thought we deserved something special after today's events. So I brought you a selection of teas. On your right, is your regular black tea. On the left is a herbal blend called Red Zinger and in the middle is Apple Cinnamon Spice. The choice is yours.” Twilight's eyes fairly gleamed as she picked up the three tea bags in her magic and levitated them up to her muzzle, allowing her to inhale their fragrance one after the other. “Oh this one I definitely have to try. It smells so intriguing.” So saying she plopped the chosen tea bag into her cup of hot water. By the color of the water leaching out of the tea bag, Mike could tell that Twilight had chosen the Red Zinger. Recalling Twilight's last statement about her recent activities, Mike asked the question which had been nagging at his mind. “Twilight, you said that you sent that letter successfully. How could you tell? To me, it appeared as if the scroll was totally destroyed.” “If it hadn't worked, the smoke would have lingered in the room and eventually would have reconstituted the letter, returning it to me. But I know it worked because the smoke exited the building. By now Spike has already received my letter.” No way. Mike thought. I saw that scroll reach its maximum entropic state; it's destroyed. There's no way it can be reconstituted back into a letter. Mike's expression must have given away his disbelief. “Oh, Mike, it's not that hard to understand. You saw me receive a letter from Spike earlier today. You know, by dragon mail.” “Actually, no I didn't. I just heard a loud pop somewhere in the vicinity of my head. Next thing I know you were holding a scroll in your magic. But forget that, it should be impossible to convey information that way?” “What do you mean, Mike?” “Well it should be obvious. That letter was consumed by fire. In the end there was nothing left but smoke, with millions upon millions of microscopic particles of ash all swirling about randomly. In other words it reached maximum entropy.” Twilight' face broke into a smile. “That's very insightful, Mike. Oh it's so nice to be able to talk to some-one,” Twilight's voice barely broke over her choice of pronouns, “who can use terms like entropy and who knows what the word means. “But you are quite correct. That letter had indeed reached a state of very high entropy. What you might not know however, was that the letter was not consumed by fire. The 'fire' you saw was actually the act of the Dragon Letter spell absorbing all of the scroll's ectropy −” “Ectropy?” Mike asked. “Um, yes. Ectropy is the opposite of entropy. Actually we think of entropy as being anti-ectropy if you will. If you remove ectropy from an object, that object will have ectropy deficit; in other words an excess of entropy.” Mike's mind froze, boggling at the concept of anti-entropy or ectropy or whatever it was, he wasn't sure how to deal with it. While Mike's mind was caught up in its boggle, Twilight took her first sip of tea. An expression of bliss spread across her face. “Mm, this is quite good. Thank you, Mike, it really is a treat.” Setting aside her tea for a moment, Twilight continued. “Anyway, when the letter reaches its intended recipient, the magic envelope dumps all of its ectropy back into the smoke and the scroll is reconstituted.” Mike was left speechless as he struggled to make sense of what Twilight had told him. In the interim Twilight tore out two more sheets from her notepad and rolled them up into a second scroll. A third blank sheet of paper was again re-formed into a band which held the scroll. “Mike, I have a second letter that I intend to send to Princess Celestia, watch carefully.” Twilight's horn lit up brightly and the new scroll began to burn, only this time much more slowly. Mike watched as a wave of flame advanced slowly up the length of the scroll. Only it wasn't quite a flame. It appeared as if a wave of disintegration was slowly advancing along the scroll. Innumerable sparks of light shot out even as a brightly luminous fog of microscopic particles wafted away from the disintegration front. An instant after its creation the luminous fog darkened into gray smoke. As he watched, Mike became aware that the smoke seemed to be contained within some invisible boundary, beyond which it never ventured. Eventually the whole scroll was converted into another cloud of sparkling smoke. “It's not acting like the other one.” Mike commented, observing the knot of smoke orbiting listlessly about the room. Twilight bit her lower lip. “I don't think it's able to reach the Princess.” Eventually, after another minute of listless circling, the cloud of smoke transformed into a scroll again, emitting a minuscule popping sound as it did so. “So what happened?” Mike asked. “Why didn't the smoke exit through the chimney again?” “That was another experiment. To see if I can send a letter to the Princess, but apparently it couldn't reach her.” Twilight's ears drooped and she looked downcast. She's obviously disappointed about that. Mike observed. “But the first letter got through, right?” Mike tried to cheer Twilight by focusing on her successes. “Actually I sent her a letter last night, never expecting it to get through,” Twilight brightened up again, “but Spike told me that it did reach her. So that tells me that it's not impossible to reach her and that I only need to figure out why one letter made it, and the other didn't.” “I'm sure you will.” Mike laid a hand on Twilight's withers and gave her a gentle rub. Seeing her squint her eyes briefly as she looked at him, Mike removed his hand, alarmed that he had offended her. “I'm sorry for being so casual, Twilight. I shouldn't have−” “It's alright, Mike. I didn't mind. Really I don't. I was just thinking how lucky I am that I found you. I said as much in my first letter to Princess Celestia.” “You wrote about me to your Princess?” Mike felt mostly astonishment but it came with a hint of trepidation. Twilight took a moment, staring into Mike's face and sipping her tea, before she replied. “I wrote that letter as a sort of personal diary, Mike, never expecting it would ever reach the Princess. But even if I had known that it would reach her, I don't regret what I wrote.” Twilight looked away. “You have to understand that the last few days have been a tremendous strain on me.” Twilight looked back again. “I like to think of myself as an intelligent and well balanced individual, but just between you and me, I have to admit that I have a tendency to freak out when overwhelmed by uncertainty. And these last few days have been filled with uncertainty.” Tears formed in Twilight's eyes. Mike remembered the emotional roller-coaster he had had to deal with yesterday and the day before. “And every time I started to freak out, you were there. I was so freaked when I found out that you ate meat that I nearly became violent, but you calmed me down, despite my fear of you. When I was depressed, you found a way to cheer me up with a movie and some science. When I became afraid and started panicking in that large shopping palace, you comforted me. But most of all, you showed me the truth, about yourself and about this place, this universe. So many wonderful things have happened today because of that truth. “Mike, those are the things that I wrote about you in my letter. I would feel privileged to introduce you to my mentor, Princess Celestia, as one of my close friends.” Mike leaned back, digesting the information Twilight had imparted. I didn't know she felt that way. Did I really do all those things? “So─” Twilight’s voice trailed off. “Hm?” Mike queried. “I− I wouldn't mind if you− you put your hand on me again.” ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ After their return to Mike's home, Twilight had kept herself busy in a bubble of industriousness. However, all good industry must come to an end and even as she tore Spikes letter out of the notepad and prepared to send it off she could feel the weight of failure pressing down upon her. What do I do now? She had thought. I wasn't able to detect the slightest bit of magic at my arrival site. I still haven't the slightest clue as at how to reverse this situation and get myself home. Fortunately, Mike's surprise appearance was sufficient to distract her from any further thoughts such as those. Their subsequent discussion on dragon mail and its inner workings of ectropy and entropy filled her with intellectual satisfaction. But it was the touch of Mike's hand on her withers that awakened a strange hunger within her. It only grew stronger as she made her speech to Mike about how much he had helped her. Unable to contain herself she decided to do something about it. “So─” Twilight could feel her resolve weakening. No, I really want to ask this. “Hm?” Mike made a noncommittal noise. “I−” Twilight gathered her courage. “I wouldn't mind if you− you put your hand on me again.” Twilight felt a surge of emotions, both satisfaction and embarrassment whirling through her being, even as her cheeks heated up. As Mike reached out and touched her withers and began rubbing them, that strange hunger within her changed to a feeling of happiness. She couldn't help but give out a sigh. “You should be aware,” Mike spoke, “that I've been holding myself back from doing this sort of thing.” What? Twilight was confused. Did I act inappropriately by asking him to touch me? Maybe it's an alien thing... Still, she was reluctant to have him stop. That rubbing thing he did with hand felt wonderful. “How do you mean?” Twilight questioned, attempting to elicit further information from Mike. “I was afraid you might find it demeaning if I petted you as I would some animal. Please understand, I see you as a bright, intelligent and lovely young girl, despite your differing body plan.” Twilight considered his words. “I think I understand what you're saying.” She replied cautiously. And I do. She thought privately. The type of social contact I requested must be quite similar to whatever humans give to their pets. But it's not so strange for a quadruped to be touched like this. “But I assure you,” Twilight continued her reply, “you're not demeaning me. You should understand that touching is an important part of a pony's social makeup. It's not natural for us to go for long without it. Is it not the same for humans?” Mike took his time answering. Twilight began to wonder why such a simple question needed so much thought. “Yes it is.” Mike finally replied. “Touching is socially significant for humans. We just do it a little differently.” That response set off a storm of curiosity in Twilight's mind. “Different? How?” She demanded. Mike stopped rubbing her withers. Inside, she groaned, fearful that she had said something to end his comforting touch. “Please.” Twilight grabbed Mike's hand with her magic and drew it towards her withers again. “Don't stop.” “No problem.” Mike acceded with a smile before he began speaking. “The first thing you should know, Twilight, is that our hands are one of our major sense organs; they are incredibly sensitive. So it's only natural that a very large part of our social behavior involves the use of our hands.” Mike began by placing his hand high up on her neck, just behind her ears. He dragged it slowly down her mane, down towards her withers. “Some forms of touching are considered appropriate.” Mike paused for a moment, before continuing. “And some forms of touching are not.” As if gaining in confidence, Mike returned his hand to the top of her neck again and repeated the dragging motion but with a slightly faster tempo. It felt like nothing Twilight had ever experienced before, but she found it to be very soothing. Mike’s touch was so soothing in fact that she was distracted from asking how touching could become inappropriate. Slowly she closed her eyes and soaked in the luxurious experience of the touch of her friend's hand. “Mike?” “Yes?” “Thank you. Whatever you're doing, don't stop. You don't know how calm and relaxed this is making me feel right now.” Mike's hand paused briefly. Opening her eyes to look at Mike, she saw that he wore an expression of surprise on his face. “I didn't even know I was doing that. That was one of those petting behaviors I told you about.” “Don't worry about that, Mike. I'll be sure to tell you if you do anything I find demeaning.” Mike resumed the actions his hand had been performing. After a while he spoke. “You know? Our hands practically have a mind of their own. When our thoughts are occupied or we are bored you will often find that our hands will start moving on their own. They don't though. Have minds of their own, I mean. It's just the effect of that portion of our brains seeking some stimulus.” That's been known to happen with ponies. Twilight thought. Some unicorns will unconsciously manipulate small objects, levitating them. Pegasi will move their wings to play with air currents and Earth Ponies will shuffle and tap their hooves. “At the same time,” Mike continued, “our hands and fingers are very sensitive. Touching or stroking some object or animal provides an enormous amount of tactile stimulus and the action becomes pleasurable and almost instinctive.” “I don't mind if your hand is pleasuring itself right now.” Twilight replied innocently. Abruptly the stoking stopped, though Mike did not remove his hand, instead he was making soft choking noises. Opening her eyes again to see what was happening, Twilight saw Mike struggling to hold in his laughter. “What did I say?” She asked. Mike's laughter burst forth from its restraints. “Hah, ha, ha, …” Waves of his glee echoed through the room, leaving Twilight even more puzzled as to what she had said. Suddenly she thought of a possible double meaning to her previous utterance. Oh Celestia. She thought in sudden mortification, hiding her reddening face in between her forelegs. I didn't mean it that way. It took a while for Mike to calm down. When he did he put his hand back on her withers again. “Dear Twilight, I know you didn't mean it like that, but when you said it, it was just so funny I couldn't help myself. “Rest assured however that the pleasure I am feeling from my hand is both simple and plain, like the satisfaction you get after meal or relaxing with a good book that you love to read again and again.” Embarrassed, yet relieved, Twilight sought to redirect the conversation. “You said your hands were sensitive, Mike. Just how sensitive are they?” All Twilight could remember about the time she had possessed hands in the Mirror world was that they had overwhelmed her with unfamiliar sensations. She had quickly learned to hold them closed, opening them rather infrequently. “They’re sensitive enough for this.” Mike stopped stroking Twilight's mane. Suddenly she felt something digging and tugging at her mane. The sensation stopped suddenly with the feel of several of her mane hairs being pulled. She saw Mike holding a tiny bit of debris between two of his fingers. It wasn't any bigger than a quarter of eight-hoof; gray and lumpy. I must have picked that up somewhere in the forest. She thought to herself. “You could feel something as tiny as that?” She asked. “Twilight, that's just the biggest example of what I could feel in your hair. I can feel a lot of grit no larger than grains of sand.” Mike resumed stroking her mane. “Mind telling me what's wrong, Twilight?” What? How did he−? Twilight sighed mentally. “How did you know?” She asked. “Just a guess. You told me that touching is an essential part of pony social interaction, and I suppose you've been starved of that contact for the last few days. For that I hope you will forgive me, I've just been unsure about how to interact with you. “But right now, you seem desperate for that contact. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that something has you upset.” For a moment Twilight debated with herself whether to tell Mike about her worries. It wouldn't be right for me to ask for his touch, keeping me calm, without sharing my concerns with him. Friends help each other. Friends need to help each other. “I'm afraid, Mike. I simply don't know what to do next. I was so happy when I made contact with my friends, but now they seem so impossibly distant. My whole universe is a few inches away through a tiny hole in a rock, and I don't know of any way to cross over. "I tried, Mike. I really tried to detect any sort of residual magic or active spell. But there was none.” Twilight nodded her head toward the plastic bag lying on the tea table in front of them. Beside it was an irregular scrap of paper and a pair of shiny tweezers she had liberated from the bathroom. Squeezing her eyes shut, she could feel the hot moisture in her eyes, threatening to become tears. When Mike replied, he did so hesitantly. “I don't have any ready answer for you, Twilight. But I'm going to tell you what my College professors told us when most of the class, including myself, struggled with some of the problems they gave us. It usually helped.” “And what was that?” Twilight opened her eyes again, turning her head to look Mike in the face. “They told us to 'Restate the problem. Come at it from a different angle'.” Twilight snorted in half amusement. “That's so like what Princess Celestia often told me. 'When you take the time to view the problem in a different light, you might discover that it's a different problem'.” Sudden enlightenment struck her. I've been looking at this from a purely magical point of view. What if this universe, this reality, is part of the problem? “Thanks Mike. You just reminded me that I've been ignoring half of the available evidence.” She stated, even as her mood lightened considerably. “What evidence is that?” “I don't know yet. But I just realized that this universe is probably contributing just as much to the formation of the holes in that rock as any magic. And that might be why I couldn't sense any magic in them. Do you know of any phenomena in your universe where it can form 'holes'?” Mike assumed at startled look. Presumably he had recalled something. “There are theoretical objects we call black holes. Well, maybe not so theoretical now. I believe I read somewhere that astronomers have actually discovered celestial objects which they believe to be black holes. If I remember correctly, there is supposed to be a truly massive one at the center of our galaxy.” Twilight thought the name at least sounded promising. “Just, how are these 'black holes' formed?” “They are formed when a star's fire burns out. They collapse inward under the weight of their own gravity. As they shrink into a smaller volume, the gravity increases rapidly since it's inversely proportional to the square of the radial distance from the center of mass. As the gravity increases, the star shrinks, and as the star shrinks the gravity increases. It's a runaway process that, mathematically at least, ends in infinities. If gravity is the result of space and time being warped in the presence of matter, then think of a black hole as being a point where space-time is warped to the extent that there is nothing left but a hole in space. Whatever falls in, never comes out.” As Mike spoke, Twilight's disappointment grew. A star? A collapsed star? If what Mike said about stars in this universe being actual suns−, that's so far outside the range of possibility that it's ridiculous to even talk about it. Mike continued. “Of course those are the only ones we know of with any certainly. But theoretically, a black hole could be any size.” Twilight's interest in black holes grew again. “Tell me more about these black holes.” She prompted. “Well, I don't know too much. I've never studied them. It's just a few facts, perhaps nothing more than fiction that I've come across while reading.” “Please tell me. I won't mind if it's simply speculation and rumor. At least it will give me something to investigate.” “Well...” Mike's voice faded as he concentrated on remembering more details. His hands too, had stopped stroking her mane, but instead they had started doing something odd. Twilight twisted her head slightly. She saw Mike's hand attempting to twirl a curl of her mane around one of his fingers. The stiff lock of her hair complied until it nearly made a full loop around his finger before springing free. The sudden bounce from the lock of hair was felt as a very faint tug and tickle. She didn't mind, if fact she found it amusing and the weight of his arm across her withers was still comforting. Mike came back from his cognitive journey. “There are some theories that speculate a black hole can punch its way right out of our universe. That maybe the matter which falls into such a black hole might erupt through another black hole somewhere else in this universe or even in another universe. There was also some talk about a kind of reverse black hole called a white hole. Twilight was starting to feel excited now. These black holes were starting to sound more and more promising. “So if a pony entered such a black hole, they might end up in some other universe entirely?” “Uh, yeah. That's the theory. The extra-universal passage formed between the black-hole pairs is called a wormhole. But, there's a problem. And it's a big one. If you enter a black hole, the gravitational forces would rip you shreds, right down to your subatomic particles. Also, I seem to remember reading something about matter passing through a wormhole causing it to constrict or something like that and blocking off the passage. Might have gotten that last part totally wrong though, I can barely remember what I read, or where I read it.” Twilight groaned. Mike's explanations were sure taking her for a wild ride; she felt like she was learning to fly all over again, where her panicky flapping would cause her to loop around uncontrollably. “So wormholes are inherently useless?” she stated. “Again, I can't remember, but there was something about a wormhole being propped open with something called exotic matter. Hey, I wonder if magic can fill that role, propping open a wormhole.” Twilight didn't respond to Mike's speculation for it had spawned a whole new train of thought in her mind. What if? She thought with increasing excitement. What if those holes are wormholes? And my magic is stabilizing them, holding them open just like Mike said was needed. Twilight started speaking again, eagerly trying to communicate her thoughts to Mike. “I think you're on to something Mike. If those holes are wormholes, it's entirely possible that magic is keeping them open. But why can't I sense any of that magic?” Twilight bobbed her head and flicked her ears in frustration. Her tail gave a quick flick as well. “I know nothing about magic, Twilight, but I do know a little something about black holes. We also call them singularities because infinite forces are involved. Space-time is being warped and twisted all the way to infinity. Conceivably, it exits our universe altogether. Perhaps those forces are warping and distorting your magic into some state you would not normally be able to recognize.” Twilight instantly understood what Mike was getting at. If the magic holding the wormhole open is being distorted somehow... Suddenly Twilight scrambled off the sofa and began prancing about in the center of Mikes' living room. “Yes!” She shouted. “Yes-Yes-Yes!” She did at least have enough presence of mind to restrict her motion to prancing and not engage in any full on pronking. She remembered that Mike didn't like her doing that inside the house. Twilight suddenly halted her gyrations and turned to face a smiling Mike. “What kind of distortions?” She asked excitedly, hoping Mike could suggest an avenue of investigation. He did not disappoint her. “Every scientific description of black holes I've ever read talks about relativistic distortions such as dilated time and changes in mass and length. Exactly what you read about, or will read about in that book you were going through last night.” The irises of Twilight's eyes grew large as she realized she already had some material that she could study. “The book!” She exclaimed as she rushed off to her bedroom. “I haven't finished reading it yet.” Soon returning with the book in question, Twilight lay down upon the sofa again and began applying herself to learning everything she could about this 'Special Relativity'. ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ Seeing that Twilight had substantially cheered up and was totally engrossed in her book, researching the possible effects of relativity on her magic, Mike looked about for something to do. Well, it's Christmas Eve, which in my family means a traditional feast. Mike sighed. Losing his mother to Alzheimer's two years ago had put a big damper on his Christmas joy. And last year was a bust too, he thought to himself, after Jim and Sandy moved away. Enough of feeling sorry for myself. Mike's expression grew determined. I want to make tonight a special evening but I don't think I can manage that. And it's too much to throw at Twilight, expecting her to fit herself into my traditions. Mike took a deep calming breath. I'll just have to do my best and let whatever happens, happen. Having reached that conclusion, Mike entered his kitchen, prepared to do battle with dinner. --------------------- It was about two hours later when Twilight emerged from the living room and apparently, her studies. She stopped at the entry to the kitchen, her eyes wide and ears erect. Mike could see her taking a few tentative sniffs of the aroma of things cooking. “Mike, this is incredible. You did all this? What's the occa─” Twilight's eyes suddenly did that weird expansion-contraction thing and her ears drooped down. She bowed her head. “I forgot. I can't believe I forgot. This is a special day for you and I promised to help you prepare the dinner. I'm so sorry− I forgot all about it.” “It's alright, Twilight. You were doing something far more important. And you can still help with some of this. In fact, I was just getting started on our main course; that baked Maple-Carrot-tart thingy.” Twilight's eyes lit up again as she recalled the tempting dish. Mike pointed towards the dining table, where he had the various recipe sheets laid out. “What!?” She exclaimed, looking at the recipe sheets Mike had there. “You’re cooking all of these? Mike, it’s too much.” “No it's not.” He stated, pausing from where he was trimming the green beans. “Besides, I figure that between what I burn and whatever is barely palatable, the two of us might be lucky to walk away from the table without feeling starved.” “Very funny, Mike.” Her nose sampled the air again. “I can tell that nothing is burning, and by all the delicious smells in the air it's going to be quite a dinner.” “You can tell all that?” Mike looked at Twilight with his most ingenuous expression of wide-eyed surprise. “Stop that.” Twilight giggled. “Of course I can. And unless your nose is totally dysfunctional, you can too. But still, it's too much. I know this is a special day for you, but−” “The day is special because of you, Twilight. I wanted to make you feel welcome by preparing and sharing this holiday feast with you. But what I've done is nothing special really, just a collection of vegetarian dishes that I thought were achievable within my cooking skill-set. “Now, are you going to help me finish this, or are you going to keep on complaining?” Twilight smiled. “Help you finish of course.” --------------------- An hour later dinner was ready. Having just taken the carrot tarts out of the oven, Mike was plating the first tart when he saw the second tart being levitated onto a second plate. “Please Twilight. You’re my guest; you should let me do that.” “Honestly, Mike. I helped you cook some of the meal. Shouldn't the cook's assistant get to serve some of the food as well?” “Non! Chef Mikael sez non! Only ze head-Chef ez permitted.” Mike brought out his fake French accent, hoping some humor would get Twilight to acquiesce. Twilight walked up to Mike, staring him right in the eye. “Chef Twilight says yes! And Chef Twilight says, I'd like to see you stop me.” Despite her narrowed eyes and serious demeanor, Mike could see the sparkle in her eye. Her spirits had certainly improved from a few hours earlier. Mike threw up his hands. “Alors. Et ez ze rebellion in ze keetchen. “Oh-kay. New plan! Twilight, ze are now promoted to sous-Chef. Ze sous-Chef serves ze head-Chef. But ze head-Chef serves everyone else, includings ze sous-Chef.” Mike glared heavily at Twilight as he made that last point. In response, Twilight broke out a happy grin. Mike carried the tart he had plated over to Twilight's seat at the table where apparently the flatware had already been laid out. Twilight levitated the plate she had prepared over to Mike's seat where the flatware had likewise been prepared already. Apparently Twilight had been sneaky, using her magic to set up the table when he wasn't looking. Examining the setup critically, Chef Mikael gave an aggrieved sniff, tilting his snoot upwards but letting the injustice pass. Twilight's grin grew wider. Returning to the oven, Mike grabbed a hot pad and the casserole dish of Greek Potatoes out of the oven, placing them on the table. Mirroring his actions, Twilight placed the dish of crispy-roasted Green Beans down on the table, using a hot pad as well. Mike however, had a secret weapon in their serving wars. Proceeding to the refrigerator, he removed the salad bowl he had prepared earlier. Knowing that Twilight did not appreciate dressings he had prepared something that should appeal to both of them, even without any dressing. It was nothing more than a bowl of baby spinach leaves, garnished with some thinly sliced canned pears and some thin-sliced rings of a sweet onion to add a bit of zest. As he placed it on the table, Twilight's jaw dropped at the sight of it. “When did you make this?” She asked. “I made it earlier, before you finished studying. I really hope you like it.” “Like it! I can barely look away from it, it looks so delicious. All of this looks so delicious.” “Oops, I almost forgot.” Running back to the far end of the kitchen counter, Mike held up a cloth covered basket. “Twilight? Could you take this and put it on the table?” Immediately he could feel her magic levitating it out of his hands. Rummaging through the cupboards and drawers, Mike obtained a couple of salad plates as well as a pair of salad tongs and two large spoons for serving the side dishes. As he brought his haul to the table he could see that Twilight had uncovered the dinner rolls in the basket and was in the process of levitating one onto his plate. Reaching out with the salad tongs, Mike snared a second roll and moved it onto Twilight's main plate, earning him a happy smile. He then proceeded to serve Twilight some of the salad, placing it onto one of the salad plates, placing it down behind her main plate. Holding out the tongs and the second salad plate, Mike invited Twilight to reciprocate the action. Bowing her head in acknowledgement, she proceeded to serve Mike a portion of the salad, her magic manipulating the salad tongs perfectly. Twilight spoke. “Would you like some of the green beans?” “Yes please.” Mike smiled back at Twilight as she levitated the spoon he had placed in the casserole dish, scooping out a serving of the roasted green beans, depositing it onto his main plate beside his carrot tart. “And if it's no trouble, some of the roast potatoes as well.” Twilight did so. It was Mike's turn now in their strange little game of serving. He found the social interplay of give and take, serving and being served, to be quite stimulating. I'm having fun. He thought to himself, broadcasting that fact with a happy smile. “Would Miss Twilight be wanting any green beans?” He asked when she had finished serving him. “Yes please. And those potatoes do look tempting; I would like some of those as well, thank you.” Twilight smiled back at Mike; apparently she was also enjoying the game. “Would you like some water?” Twilight asked as a pitcher and glass floated past Mike's head. Where did she get that− Oh. She must have seen the pitcher in the 'fridge while I was getting the salad. Mike concluded. “Yes please.” He answered, maintaining his genteel affect. Twilight's smile grew even broader. Mike was thinking furiously. If you discount the bread basket as a shared effort, this puts her a full point ahead of me. Not to be discouraged, Mike graciously took the pitcher from Twilight's magic and poured her a glass of water, bringing it over to her side of the table. Mike cleared his throat. “My compliments to the sous-Chef. A most excellent presentation.” After giving Twilight a bow, he seated himself at the table. “My compliments to the head-Chef.” Twilight answered in return. “This all looks so good.” “One more thing.” Mike interrupted Twilight who had a forkful of salad on its way to her mouth. “If it's not too much trouble, I would like to say grace before we start. I hope you don't mind.” “Grace?” Twilight queried, busily chewing on the salad. “Uh, no.” She swallowed hastily. “I don't mind. Do whatever you want. What is this grace thing anyway?” Mike had to smile at Twilight's antics. In answer he just dove into it. “Dear Lord. Thank you for the blessing of this rich abundance. The food. The friends. And your provenance which brought us together in this marvelous adventure. Bless our endeavors to get Twilight home safely, and bless this meal. Amen.” Twilight sat still for a few moments. She seemed to be thinking heavily on the words of Mike's prayer. When she spoke, she surprised Mike considerably. “Ah, Mr. Lord? I don't know if you can hear me, or even if you exist. But if you do, then I would like to say thank you so much for bringing Mike and I together. I just want you to know that he's been a true friend to me and, ah, thank you for-this-meal-too.” Twilight concluded her 'prayer' with a rush of words; a faint blush was showing on her cheeks. Mike found the innocence of Twilight's impromptu 'prayer' to be totally endearing, speaking as she had in earnest thankfulness. He couldn't say whether God had indeed been attentive to Twilight's words, but he liked to think so. “Come on, Twilight. It's time to eat.” Mike was smiling as he picked up his fork and started in on his salad. --------------------- Initially they ate in silence but despite that, the mood felt light. They were comfortable in each other's presence and they both knew it. They were simply happy to be having a meal together. Mike found it interesting to watch the way Twilight wielded the knife and fork with her magic as she attacked the carrot-tart. The knife held in her magic would whirl around to cut the pastry from whatever angle was most convenient. It appeared as if Twilight was slowly working her way around the tart in a spiral pattern, consuming it, bite by bite, from the outside in towards the center. And from the sounds she was making she found it to be quite tasty, though that could have been due to the maple syrup. Mike suspected that Twilight had tampered somewhat with the recipe and had added a bit of extra syrup while she was helping with the cooking. The two of them enjoyed their meal, interacting with each other through various banalities, though occasionally something would touch off an interesting conversation. “So, how far have you gotten in your studies?” Mike asked early on, while biting into a forkful of his carrot tart. Twilight paused to swallow. “Well. I've finished that book you gave me on special relativity.” “What, already?” Mike paused with a potato wedge half-way to his mouth. “It took me nearly a week to get through that book.” Though maybe I shouldn't feel so bad. He comforted himself. I was only able to read it for a few hours in the evenings after classes. Still, to think that she was able to absorb that material in just four or five hours... Mike directed a hearty mental kudo towards Twilight. “So, did it give you any ideas?” He asked carefully after dealing with his mouthful of Greek-roasted potato. “A few.” Twilight responded while a forkful of green beans hovered in front of her. “I'm beginning to think that the magic itself might be trapped in another frame of reference. Relativistic distortions inside these supposed wormholes, if strong enough, might be preventing its detection. “But the book I read gave me nothing at all on wormholes or how I could accommodate that distortion.” “Hm.” Mike meditated for a moment, while Twilight proceeded to chew her beans. “We haven't confirmed that we are in fact dealing with wormholes, but if you feel that relativity studies have been of some help, then all I can do is suggest that we get you moved on to studying General Relativity.” “I think so too. Do you have any books on that?” She asked hopefully. “I'm afraid not. That's really heavy duty stuff and I've never looked into it. Could you serve me some more salad please?” Mike's request brought the conversation back onto the subject of their dinner. “Certainly.” She replied as her magic levitated another tong full of salad onto his plate. “My complements to the chef, it's a lovely salad and those slices of canned pear you put in it took it to a whole new level.” Twilight rotated the salad bowl until the tongs presented their handles towards Mike. “I think I would like some more salad too.” She grinned playfully at Mike. Mike felt ridiculously pleased to continue playing the game. Strangely though, when he served Twilight her salad, her plate ended up having a few extra pear slices. She made no complaints about his service. More moments passed in quiet enjoyment until Mike recalled a particularly vivid moment from earlier that day. “You know,” Mike began, “I really enjoyed watching you fly this morning. The way your mane and tail were streaming in the wind and your wings were pumping majestically, you looked so free, like you owned the sky. That's a sight I'll remember for a long time to come.” “You were pretty free yourself, Mike.” Twilight gave him a mischievous grin. “I could hear you screaming behind me. Though I couldn't quite make out what you were saying.” Twilight's grin grew larger. “You heard that?” Mike asked. “How? I thought for sure I was being drowned out by the roar of the engine and you yourself should have been battered by wind noises.” Twilight turned her head slightly and flicked the ear that was closest to him. “Hearing is one of our major senses, and our ears help make our hearing quite sensitive when we want it be. It was no trouble to make out the sound of your voice over the roar of the engine. “As for this wind noise you speak of, part of a Pegasus’ magic is the maintenance of a shell of still air around our bodies. It has a number of effects, including the elimination of turbulence and wind noises.” “Huh?” Mike was astonished. “So when you fly, you have a kind of super boundary layer of air surrounding you which promotes laminar flow of the airstream?” Now Twilight appeared to be surprised, though her expression quickly transformed into a pleasant smile. “Yes, that's it exactly. I'm impressed that you know something of aerodynamics, Mike.” Mike gave Twilight an engaging smile as he reached for his water. “I read a book or two on the subject while trying to get my Pilots License.” “What's a pie-lot's license?”. Mike held up a finger as he finished taking a sip out of his glass. “About six years ago I set out to learn how to fly an airplane. A license certifies that the holder has undertaken sufficient training and passed all the requisite tests to be permitted to operate such an aircraft. The operator is called a pilot, hence the term Pilot's License.” “So you can fly these air craft?” Twilight asked delightedly. “Well, yes and no. I had nearly completed my flight training when my life was overtaken by certain events.” Mike paused as he remembered his father's sudden heart attack and death. He had had to revise his priorities to take care of his mother after that. “My training stopped and I never got my license.” “I'm so sorry, Mike.” Twilight commiserated. “It sounds like you've spent a lot of time and effort into getting that license. I feel bad that you didn't get it.” “Thanks Twilight, but there's nothing you need to feel bad about. I made a decision at the time, and I'm convinced that it was the right decision. Maybe, someday, things will settle down and I'll get a chance to try again.” Apparently something about the conversation had left Twilight feeling awkward, because she didn't pursue it any further. They both returned to finishing the remnants of their meal. --------------------- Clean up was easy. They simply had to load everything into Mike's dishwasher. Mike was surprised however that Twilight begged him to let her do it. “I want to learn how to do it.” She explained. “And maybe I’ll learn a little about how you humans manage your everyday life through machines.” Well, it’s not rocket science. He thought to himself. “Sure Twilight. If you really want to do it, I suppose you can.” Twilight grinned happily, as everything on the table began glowing with a telltale rosy color and levitating upwards en-mass. “But,” Mike admonished, “You're my guest and I really shouldn't be letting you do this.” “Just think of me as a guest who's most happy when learning and experiencing something new. For me this is an exciting experience. I'm the first pony in history who is going to use an advanced alien machine to wash her dishes. Yes!” Twilight pranced a few steps in her excitement. Twilight's excitement was certainly contagious, and Mike couldn't help but break out into a broad smile. “Alright, alright. Here's how you do it...” ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ Twilight settled herself down on the couch beside Mike. She felt herself to be strangely at ease. The meal had been very good, but her most lasting impression of the meal was that silly game she and Mike had fallen into. Only, it hadn't been a silly game at all. Every move had been made in earnest and she felt that Mike had been equally entranced by the give and take of serving each other. No rules had been spoken. Well actually Chef Mee-kyle stated the rules, but that was clearly nothing more than a concession to silliness. She reminded herself. But we both chose, quietly and together, without any planning, to suddenly turn the dinner into a game. Warmth spread through Twilight as she recalled her feelings of happiness at serving Mike and the intense anticipation of his return service. And in between the moments they had played the game she had allowed herself to relax and enjoy the food. Mike had as well, she was sure of it. It was like we were having some kind of − dance. She concluded. Twilight's introspective mood was suddenly interrupted as Mike spoke. “What are you thinking, Twilight?” “I'm just sitting here thinking─” Twilight paused briefly. “About how much I enjoyed the meal.” “No.” Twilight interrupted herself. “That's not right. The food was delicious of course, but that's not what I meant to say. I meant to say that I really enjoyed the whole experience. There was the goofy haphazard way we set the table and then there was that silly yet wonderful game we played and the company and the conversation... “What I'm trying to say is that it all came together and made it a most memorable experience.” Mike did not reply immediately, but seemed to be pondering his answer. I like that about him. Twilight thought. He takes time to think – usually – before he says something. “Thank you for that, Twilight. All that I could have hoped for this meal to be, has been answered by your kind words. Truthfully, I had no expectation that it would turn out as it did.” “What do you mean, Mike?” “This particular meal, on this particular day, carries a great deal of significance to me. It's full of tradition and many happy memories of times spent with my family or friends. But I knew that this occasion meant none of those things to you and that it was unfair to lay those expectations upon you. So I laid aside those memories and hoped for nothing more than a good supper, to be shared with a friend. “But it didn't turn out that way. I found myself having a wonderful time and now that I know you did as well, all I can say is − thank you, Twilight, for finding that which was lost.” Throwing out his arm, Mike started stroking Twilight's mane. Twilight relaxed under the sensation of Mike's closeness. It was not to last however as Mike gave a dissatisfied grunt and rose from the sofa. “Mike? What's wrong?” “I'm going to fetch a brush. Your hair is still full of debris. Stay there, I'll be right back.” --------------------- At first when Mike had returned with the brush, Twilight had attempted to take it from him. At the first sensation of her magic, however he had pulled back, and she understood that Mike was continuing the game. It was one thing for them to serve each other a meal, but it went a step too far, perhaps, to have Mike grooming her mane. Despite her misgivings and slight embarrassment at having a dirty mane, she did not ask him to stop. She even had to admit, with a bit of guilty pleasure, that she was enjoying it. “Really, Mike. This is going too far. A pony is responsible for their own grooming.” She protested half-heartedly, flicking her ears. “Who was it that gave me that earth pony massage last night? If I remember correctly, you were up close and very personal with me. To my mind, I'm simply returning the favor.” He has a point. Twilight admitted to herself. But she wasn't about to concede that quickly. “They're not equivalent.” She argued. “Your injury was something which you could not address on your own. Brushing my mane however, is something that I'm perfectly capable of doing myself.” Mike smiled. “Well I'm enjoying this, brushing your hair. Can you tell me that you don't enjoy it as well? Maybe just a little bit?” “Um, nooo−” Twilight drew out her denial in such a way as to remove all conviction from it. “That's what I thought.” He replied smugly. In reply she swatted him gently with her tail. For some reason Mike paused, the brush stilled while only halfway through her mane. “Ah, I− I think I'll let you handle your own tail.” He said before resuming his brushing of her mane, more slowly now. What? Twilight wondered, somewhat disappointed at the partial success of her argument. --------------------- “Here, Twilight.” Mike announced the completion of his self-imposed task as he presented her with the brush. Sighing to herself, Twilight roused from her peaceful repose to take the brush from Mike. Turning her head around to observe the member in question, she began grooming her tail. As she did so, she wondered why she had argued for Mike to stop grooming her in the first place. Pausing for a moment to reposition her tail, she noticed out of the corner of her eye, that Mike was studiously looking across the room, and that his cheeks held a faint blush. “Twilight?” Mike interrupted. “Yes?” Twilight looked up from her brushing, only to discover that Mike was still studying the other side of the room. He must be looking at the Tee-Vee. She concluded. Perhaps he's trying to think of a movie for us to watch tonight. She had come to enjoy those sessions as they presented her with a wealth of ideas and concepts to think about. “I've been thinking, about that discussion we had before dinner. Do you remember how I said I knew nothing about magic?” “Yes, and right after that you gave me a wonderful idea to look into. That maybe the magic is being distorted by the forces inside the wormholes.” “Maybe you’re right, Twilight. Maybe my answer did help you. But that was more a case of my mouth running on. That idea owes more to serendipity than to any thought on my part. “No, my excuse that I don't know anything about magic was exactly that, an excuse. A way of fooling myself into thinking that I could not help you anymore.” Twilight was shocked. “That's not true, Mike! You've been a great help to me.” “You're right. But you, or rather we, cannot continue to rest our hopes on serendipity and coincidence. There is a wealth of knowledge stuck inside my head, Twilight. But to make effective use of it we need to communicate better. To do that, I need to learn about magic.” Twilight stared at Mike as her mind began to race through the ramifications of his proposal. On one hoof, the subject area of magic was massive. She had been studying magic for nearly half of her lifetime. On the other hoof, Mike's casual knowledge of the workings of this universe probably reflected another half-lifetime's worth of study. If, as she suspected, she needed a synthesis of their two knowledge domains then Mike's active assistance became essential. Twilight smiled. “Okay, Mike. When do you want to start?” “Why don't we start right now? You can begin with an overview, outlining what magic is. It's something that's totally outside my world-view, because it did not exist. Yet after meeting you I now know that it does exist.” Twilight could feel herself getting excited. Here was an open, intelligent mind just waiting for her to pour her knowledge into it. Maybe I'd better start off slow, like I would if I was explaining magic to a young foal. Only, Mike's not a foal. Hmm, this requires some thought. If I take the same syllabus intended for a young foal but upgrade it to use proper terminology and illustrate it with some real examples... --------------------- “At its most fundamental,” Twilight began, “Magic is change, or perhaps more accurately, magic is change and the potential for change. “Every time something changes, say a rock bouncing off of another rock or I suppose, even those electrons you told me about jumping to a new energy level, magic is being expressed. The key word here is change. A change in energy, a change in momentum, a change in velocity or a change in physical makeup; change, all change, is the expression of magic.” “Wow, Twilight. Everything? That's quite a concept. Can it really be true for my universe?” Ignoring Mike's interruption, Twilight continued. “Living organisms are in a constant state of change as their very cells continually undergo the processes of anabolism and catabolism, of building up and tearing down. Indeed magic is the essential component which facilitates life. To say that your universe has no magic is a logical absurdity; if it has life, then it has magic. “If it has light even, then that universe must have magic, else those particles of light would never have been emitted in the first place. Magic is that fundamental.” “And God said, 'Let there be light'.” Mike murmured softly. Twilight's ears twitched, but decided to ignore him. He probably didn't expect me to hear that anyway. She thought. “Such magic is called bound magic, or natural magic.” Twilight continued. “We call it that because it is mediated by matter, expressing only such changes as are consistent with the basic properties of the matter it is bound to, whether it be a gas, a rock or a living organism. “You, Mike, are full of this bound magic. I know from personal experience that you have such magic because I directly manipulated it when I gave you that Earth Pony Massage last night.” “So,” Mike interjected, “that's what you do when you perform magic? You simply manipulate this bound magic?” “Patience, Mike. I'm getting to that. It's not quite that simple.” Mike nodded. Twilight took a breath before continuing. “We ponies,” she began, “and other sentient beings in Equestria have access to unassociated magic or free magic as it is commonly called. Unassociated magic is magic that is not bound up with matter.” “Why is there a distinction?” Mike asked. “Why is some magic bound, and some free?” Twilight paused. Mike had derailed her easy presentation with a simple question. I think I'll answer that. I just have to not lose sight of the main presentation. She thought. “That's a little bit complicated, Mike. For now, I'll just give you the abridged explanation. Reality consists of several planes of existence. There's the material plane, which we reside in and several others. Of those, the most important for now is the etheric plane, where the magic resides. Our current theories state that bound magic is simply magic which has diffused through the planar boundary and become attached to the matter here in the material plane. Free magic, is simply magic which has diffused across the planar boundary into our material plane but is not bound to anything.” “You make it sound like a gas diffusing through a membrane.” Mike commented. “That's not a bad analogy.” Twilight replied. “I personally thought it analogous to a sealed container with a pool of water at the bottom. Some of the water evaporates and fills the air as water vapor. Don't you have any questions about the multiple planes of existence?” “I'll take your word for it, Twilight. Scientifically, there's no evidence for multiple planes of existence, but I am acquainted with a similar concept through my religious convictions. Though it's got nothing to do with magic, some of us believe in an alternate plane of existence called heaven.” Twilight knew that other planes besides the etheric existed, but very little was known about most of them. No unicorn had ever been able to access them. No alicorn either as far as she knew. Maybe Mike's fellow humans have knowledge of one of those other planes? Twilight wrote a note to follow up on that question. Setting down her notepad she returned to her lecture on magic. “The interesting thing about this unassociated, or free, magic is that it can be mindfully directed in such a manner as to impose useful change. “Earth Ponies can use free magic. At an instinctive level, they use it to reinforce their bodies, making themselves much tougher and stronger than other types of pony. They can also use it intentionally, to achieve effects outside of their bodies. For example, when my friend Applejack bucks her apple trees, she uses free magic to cause all of the apples to drop simultaneously. And the apples don't just drop randomly either, she can make them all fall neatly into a single basket she has placed under the tree. Earth ponies also have a natural ability to manipulate life magic, that's what they call the bound magic of living things. “Pegasi use free magic to manipulate the clouds and the very air. With our wings,” Twilight extended a wing towards Mike, “we attach ourselves to the bound magic of the air masses which surround us. Becoming 'one with the air', as it were, allows us to fly. Our hooves also, give us the ability to manipulate the bound magic in clouds, allowing us to walk on those clouds. Like the Earth ponies, there is also an instinctive part to our magic. The hairs in our coat, mane and tail maintain a shell of still air around us, keeping us warm and allowing us to slip quietly through the air.” “Then there are the unicorns, such as I was before I became an Alicorn. Our horns give us the ability to manipulate free magic in an almost unlimited number of ways. I say almost, because there is almost nothing easy or instinctive about our magic; we learn our magic through study and training. If there is any instinctive component to a Unicorn's use of magic then it is that virtually every unicorn has a particular spell, not necessarily unique, that comes to them quite naturally, without hardly any practice at all. For instance, my friend Rarity has a spell which can locate gems, even if they are hidden or buried.” “What about you, Twilight?” Mike asked. “What was your instinctive talent?” Twilight was half expecting this question; knowing how curious Mike was. “I don't actually have one. Or perhaps I should say, I have a talent for all spells.” Seeing Mike's vacant look, she gave additional details. “Any unicorn could learn Rarity's Gem detecting spell, if they were willing to devote the hours or even weeks required of them to do it. The amount of effort required varies with the individual and with how much experience they have had acquiring other related spells. “When I learn a new spell, it usually only takes me a few minutes. Even learning new forms of magic comes easy to me. Princess Celestia taught me the fundamentals of emotive magic in about fifteen minutes.” “Emotive magic?” Mike questioned. “I thought magic was either bound or free. Is there a third kind?” “No, at its most fundamental, magic is simply magic. The terms bound and unassociated simply refer to its current dedication. Never forget that, no matter what other terms I may mention. “The confusion in terminology comes from the various schools of magical manipulation that are available. They are distinct from each other in how one objectifies the world and conceptualizes the spells for manipulating it. Emotive magic is an approach whereby one uses ones emotions to shape and power a spell. As an ethical approver proxy, you should be aware that emotive magic is highly restricted.” Mike's eyebrows both climbed upwards. “What's the reason for that?” “At best, emotive magic is difficult to perform. Most unicorns that attempt it, find themselves relying on the more intense emotions of hatred and fear as being the easiest to sustain. Constantly striving for those dark emotions simply to aid their magic has a heavy cost. It darkens their spirits and corrupts their minds. Eventually they become practitioners of dark magic, although that's really just an unbalanced form of emotive magic.” “I see.” Mike stated. “Okay, Twilight. That's enough of the magic lessons for tonight. I think I need some time to absorb the implications of it all. It's quite a bit to take in after all, an infinite chorus of magic events are happening all around us and even within us, making up our very existence.” I have so much more to teach you. Twilight thought irritatedly, her ears lowering, before realizing she had already gone through the foal’s introductory syllabus and covered quite a bit of additional material beyond it. Maybe Mike does need some time to adapt to this new knowledge. She thought, her ears raising themselves up again. “Alright, Mike. We can stop here. What should we do for the rest of the evening?” Mike smiled. “I was thinking about that earlier. If you’re not adverse to another movie, I have something in mind. It's a true story, about mortal danger and overcoming adversity that I think will inspire you with hope concerning your own situation.” Twilight shuffled her hooves. Yes! A movie. She thought eagerly until she recalled what Mike had said. “About my situation?” She asked. How could anything relate to my situation? “What's the name of this movie?” “Apollo thirteen.” Mike replied.