• Published 27th May 2014
  • 5,331 Views, 54 Comments

Disparity - BlazzingInferno



Twilight’s never attempted emotive magic before. What could go wrong? Everything about Rarity and Spike, for one.

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Morning

Twilight’s eyes darted from the diagram on the parchment to the scene in front of her. Everything needed to be perfect. She’d chosen a spot in the living room over the library that received the proper amount of morning sunlight, drawn two chalk circles on the ground precisely six inches apart, and placed a carefully chosen test subject in each one.

Spike’s yawn interrupted her thoughts. “Why do I have to stand in this circle for the spell to work? Why do we have to do this so early in the morning?”

“Spike, it’s almost nine.”

“Exactly, that’s way too early for magic.”

She shook her head and smiled. “Sorry, Spike, emotive magic is difficult. I have to take the time of day, the weather, and–”

He yawned again.

“And the state of my subjects into account! Move two inches closer to your fellow test subject.”

Spike glanced at the second chalk circle. The only thing in it was a nearly-wilted sunflower growing in a pot. “You mean the plant?”

“Yes, the plant. Once I cast the spell, you should be able to feel its emotions. Ready?”

“If this is an emotion spell, why use a plant? You just have to look at it to know what it’s feeling: hunger.”

“Starting with a plant is safer. Now please, Spike, just clear your mind of all emotions, and we’ll begin.”

“After this we’re going shopping, right? Hearts and Hooves Day is tomorrow, and you promised you’d help me find the perfect gift for Rarity.”
 Twilight sighed. Getting through this experiment today was a must; Spike would effectively be Rarity’s assistant tomorrow instead of hers. “Yes, I’ll help you choose a gift, but right now you need to clear your mind. No emotions, and no more interruptions. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Magic flowed through her horn. She’d never cast a spell quite like this one. There were no special words to think or incantations to recite. Emotive spells were all about how one felt, and the near-perfect likeness between the spell diagram and the scene before her put a confident smile on her face.

Purple light surrounded her test subjects. After months of preparation, the moment had finally arrived, the moment when she ventured into a realm of magic that Star Swirl himself referred to as an ineffable mystery.

Then the library door slammed open.

“Twilight, darling? I need your opinion on this hat; I’m convinced everypony else hasn’t given me an honest answer, but I know I can count on you to–”

Bolts of wild magic ricocheted around the library. Twilight and Spike dove for cover amid twin bouts of screaming.

Rarity galloped up the staircase and found them both face down on the floor. “Spikey? Twlight? What’s going on?”

Twilight cautiously opened one eye. Spike was cowering in his circle while Rarity shielded him with her hooves. Otherwise, the world looked normal. Finally an interrupted spell hadn’t resulted in ruined books or animals transmuted into fruit. Better still, the once-dying sunflower now stood up tall in the morning light. Apparently she’d relayed an emotion between her test subjects after all.

“Well, I guess we know how a certain dragon feels about a certain… uh… never mind! Hi, Rarity.”

Rarity didn’t look away from Spike. “Speak to me, Spikey. Let me know you’re all right.”

Spike hopped up and flexed his arms. “Never better. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for breakfast.”

He ran off while the two mares looked on.

Rarity removed her hat, a shimmering blue number rimmed with a rainbow of jewels, and stepped on it. “Drat.”

“Rarity, what are you doing? That’s a gorgeous hat.”

“Perhaps, but it has failed its raison d'être; I can’t stand to look at it a moment longer.”

“Huh?”

Rarity took a furtive look around, slid over, and whispered in her ear. “Spike.”

“Spike?”

“Yes, dear, Spike. If the hat doesn’t draw his eye to me, then it’s of no use. I’ll simply have to try something else.”

Twilight mentally wrestled with several words before one finally escaped her mouth. “Spike?”

“Such a handsome dragon, isn’t he? With Hearts and Hooves Day just around the corner, I simply must find a way to admit my… feelings.”

“You… You have a crush on Spike?”

Rarity gave a coy smile and nodded.

“Since when?”

“Oh, I’ve always enjoyed his compliments and adoration, and now I feel that perhaps there might be something more there. Do you think it might be mutual, Twilight? Please say yes.”

Twilight shoved her own hoof in her mouth. She couldn’t just blurt it out. Spike would never forgive her, and Pinkie would never let her hear the end of it. “Why don’t you try the hat one more time? Spike’s probably in the kitchen.”

Rarity dusted off her trampled chapeau and pushed it back into shape. “Only if you think it stands a chance at success.”

“Oh, I guarantee it!”

They found Spike in the kitchen, wielding a pan full of eggs and daisies over the hot stove. He waved at them with his free hand, but didn’t take his eyes off his work.

“Mind if I throw in a little ketchup, Twilight?”

“Err, sure. First, could you take a look at Rarity’s new hat? She’d really like your personal opinion on it, especially with Hearts and Hooves Day coming up tomorrow.”

Spike grabbed the ketchup bottle and gave Rarity’s come-hither pose a moment’s glance.

“Looks fine to me, Rarity. I’m not really into… you know… girly stuff. You should be asking Twilight what she thinks.”

Twilight stared at him open-mouthed while tears welled up in Rarity’s eyes. Spike only noticed after he’d finished with the bottle.

“What? Too much ketchup?”

---

Twilight rushed through breakfast, or at least tried to. Spike’s plate had been clean for ten minutes, and Rarity was undoubtedly home by now, crying over her borrowed and bruised feelings.

“How did this even happen? Why is the plant blooming if Spike’s crush got transferred to Rarity? It’s almost as if… ugh, I don’t know.”

Spike walked into the room with a broom and dustpan in hand. “Did you say something, Twilight?”

“I really messed up that spell, Spike.”

“It can’t be that bad. So what if I don’t know how the plant feels? It’s blooming now, and I feel great too.”

“You’re not concerned about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? Isn’t it a Tuesday?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s Hearts and Hooves Day.”

“Oh, right. I’ll just spend it inside. I mean, Sugarcube Corner’s going to be packed, so will the park, and every other nice spot in town. It’ll be a great time to do some reading.”

She scooped up the last of the eggs with her fork. “Did your new comic book come in early?”

“Actually I was thinking about starting on that big stack of books by my bed.”

She spit out a mouthful of eggs. “You mean all the books I’ve been trying to convince you to read since we came to Ponyville?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t look so shocked. I said I’d get around to it, didn’t I?”

She laid her head on the table and stared at the remains of her breakfast. “I… I guess you did.”

He set down his cleaning supplies and placed a hand on her back. “Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m fine. I just have a long day of studying and calculations ahead of me.”

“Isn’t that every day?”

“Usually I don’t feel so tired this early; maybe that’s why I can’t figure out how to fix the spell.”

He cleared away the dishes and patted her head. “You’ll figure it out, Twilight; you always do. I’ll go get you some parchment and quills.”

“Thanks. You’re a true friend, Spike, and a wonderful assistant. I promise I’ll make this right.”

“Make what right?”

“Everything.”