Analog

by Petrichord

1. Validation

Rarity sat near the foot of Twilight’s bed, sketching lines onto a blank piece of paper.

Every twenty seconds, Rarity looked up. Twilight lay on the bed in the exact same way that she had laid on the bed since her friends found her in the library. No matter who sat by her bed, she hadn’t moved at all.

She hadn’t moved when Nurse Redheart showed up. She didn’t respond to any of Nurse Redheart’s treatments. She hadn’t responded to any of Applejack’s family remedies. When Princesses Celestia and Luna and Cadence arrived and cast all the spells they could think of, Twilight hadn’t responded. If Twilight had cast any contingency spells, she hadn’t responded to them.

Twilight lay on the bed, eyes closed, not moving. A small mask above her mouth hissed, and Rarity could see Twilight’s chest rise and fall in short, abrupt motions, perfectly in time with the mask’s hissing. The mask moved Twilight in ways she was no longer capable of moving herself. For two days, save for the compression and release from the mask, Twilight had not moved at all.

Rarity turned back to her piece of paper, and had sketched precisely three more lines when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in”, Rarity said without looking up.

Rarity heard the rattling of the doorknob, the squeaking of door hinges and the pattering of clawed feet.

“Rarity?”

“Hello, Spike”, Rarity replied without looking up from her papers.

“How did you know it was-“

“Feminine intuition.” Rarity sighed. “I suppose it’s your turn to watch over Twilight, then?”

“Y-yeah. Uh. I mean, if you didn’t want me to be here, then…”

“It’s okay, Spike”, Rarity replied, telekinetically collecting her pencil and papers and lifting them in the air. “I suppose that it would do me good to leave for a while and…mingle, as it were.”

“Rarity?”

“Yes, Spike?” Rarity replied, turning to face him. Spike teetered as he hobbled closer, carrying a huge stack of papers. “Ah! Would you like me to help you with those?”

“I think I’ve got it. Thanks, though.” Spike crossed the distance towards Rarity and dropped the stack of papers to the ground with a solid whumpf. “Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted help with your stuff.”

Rarity shook her head and gave Spike a wan smile. “My little Spikey-Wikey. Such a gentledragon, aren’t you?”

Spike blushed. “Well, it’s just that…I-it’d be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it?”

“To offer, yes. And I do appreciate you asking me. But, as you can see, I’ve got my affairs quite handled.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Perhaps we can catch up later, then?”

“W-well…” Spike gulped. “Actually, I kind of wanted to talk to you. I-if you could stay with me for a bit.”

Rarity bit her lip. “Ah…perhaps some other time, darling? I’ve got work to attend to.”

“Maybe I could help with it?”

“It’s not the sort of thing you could help with, Spike. I’m sorry.” Rarity’s voice took on a hard note, firmer then iron. “One’s creative affairs are one’s own. If there’s something I believe you can help me with, I’ll gladly ask you, but-“

“Rarity.”

“Yes, Spike?”

“Nopony blames you, you know.”

There was nothing about Spike’s words to suggest contempt, and nothing in his face to suggest anger. Neither of those facts stopped his words from stinging like a slap to the face. Rarity’s lips pursed into a line, and it was a couple of seconds before Rarity spoke.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Spike, but if you’ll excuse me-“

“They DON’T, Rarity. I promise.”

Rarity shook her head. “Of course they do, Spike. And if they didn’t, they should. I would, if I were them.”

Rarity turned her head back to look at Twilight.

“…Even if nopony else blames me, I blame myself. Somepony has to take responsibility for this.”

“If it’s nopony’s fault, then-“

“It IS, Spike. It’s MINE. If you’re trying to play the gentledragon, it’s not going to work” Rarity snapped, walking towards Spike. “I’d rather not discuss this right now, as there are better things for both of us to be-“

Something out of view caught her hoof. Her field of view tilted as she overbalanced, then fell to the ground with a thud. Her focus waned, and her pencil and papers followed suit, the sound of wood clattering against wood and the fluttering of pages filled the away.

“Rarity!” Spike yelled. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Spike”, Rarity muttered as she pulled herself upright. Then she looked down to collect her sketches, and a choice expletive tumbled out of her lips. It wasn’t a mug or a stuffed doll that she had tripped over, but Spike’s stack of papers, which had scattered and slid all over the floor in a haze.

“Look at what I’ve gone and done”, Rarity moaned. “Spike, I’m so sorry.”

“I-it’s okay! As long as you didn’t get hurt, I mean.” Spike glanced down at the pile of sheets spread across the floor, and bent down to start shoving some of the pages back into a larger pile.

“I’ll be okay, Spike. Here, let me help you.” Rarity lifted one page into the air, then another. Page 108 and page 8. Rarity groaned. “And now I’ve gone and mixed the whole thing up. I suppose I’ll have to stay and help, then.”

“I mean, if you really have to go, then you can go”, Spike blustered. “It was kind of a mess to begin with, so I don’t think you have to worry about sorting them too much.”

“Sorting what?” Rarity picked up another page. The writing on it was articulated, but cramped almost to illegibility.

Self-actualizing paradox may occur as a result of attempting to manifest multiple self-entities over the course of psychological jaunting, as a result of duplicating internal structure without allowing for an external body to differentiate different factors; see also equation #9.2 and equation #12.4 to verify-

“Twilight’s Notes”, Spike replied, snapping Rarity out of her reverie.

Rarity blinked, and read the page again.

“I don’t understand…” Rarity muttered.

“I know.” Spike sighed. “Princess Celestia and Princess Luna already looked at them, but they weren’t able to figure it out, either.”

“They didn’t take the notes with them?”

Spike paused. “They were notes?”

“Of course they were notes. What else would they be?”

“Well, I mean…I guess it’s probably the sort of thing Twilight would write, but none of us could figure it out. It’s kind of, uh…”

“A mess?”

Spike nodded, shoulders sagging. “I don’t get it. She’s normally really clear when she writes, so we kind of thought that she was writing in a different language, or in runes or something. But nothing added up.”

“And none of you tried squinting?”

“I mean – yeah, we did, but we still didn’t understand it. Do you know?”

“Any given page? I have no idea what this …’psychological jaunting’ is supposed to refer to, so no. I hope you weren’t bringing all of those up here just to ask.”

“Well, I sort of figured I’d try to put them back together. I mean, there’s got to be some particular way of doing it. Princess Celestia tried doing them all by page number, but there were a lot of different Page Ones and Page Twos and stuff, and none of it looked like it obviously connected to anything else. And then there were all the equations and stuff…” Spike sighed. “The answer’s probably in here somewhere, but I don’t think anypony knows how to find it. And the princesses had princess-y things to do, so…”

“Do you think that’s why they left the notes here with you?”

“Maybe? I guess? I mean, somepony has to figure this out. And everypony else in the castle is just as lost as I am.” Spike shrugged. “They kind of have things to do, too, but…”

“And you didn’t think to ask me before?” Rarity replied, rolling her eyes.

“I did! I just didn’t think you’ld want to be…disturbed? You’ve been kind of not around all that much since this happened. And I thought you, um. You needed a bit of space, since…”

Rarity sighed. “Point taken. I suppose it was a bit unfair of me to object, wasn’t it?”

Spike shook his head. “It’s okay. You’ve been…I mean, it’s understandable, anyway. This thing, and you, and…yeah.”

Nearby, a clock ticked. A brief silence settled, punctuated only by the hissing from Twilight’s mask.

Spike gulped. “So, uh. You can help?”

Rarity looked at the disheveled slew of papers and indulged herself in a small, self-satisfied smirk. “At least a little. Should I assume that nopony bothered to check the colors of the pages?”

“You mean white?”

“Well, perhaps the page 108, over…there, see it?...That page is pure white, yes. But the page that I’m holding on to is clearly eggshell, like the page that I dropped over there – page 8, yes?”

Spike blinked. “Uh…”

“…They all look white to you, don’t they.”

“Kind of.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Still, if I started sorting these by color, then perhaps we could get somewhere.” Rarity’s horn glowed as she lifted errant pages off of the pile and set them down into new stacks on the floor: two, three, four…

“Uh.” Spike scratched the back of his neck. “Is there any way that I could help?”

Rarity shook her head. “If you can’t tell the difference between the page colors, then I’m not sure you can. I’m sorry, Spike.”

“Well, maybe I could help sort the stacks? By page number, or something? Would that help?”

Rarity paused, page held suspended in the air as she blinked at Spike, before breaking out into a genuine smile. “Yes. That would be quite useful, actually.”

*********************

When Applejack entered Twilight’s room, she found Rarity and Spike pouring over Twilight’s notes, lost in discussion.

“So what about the diagrams on this pile?” Spike asked, gesturing to a stack of papers. “Do you think they belong to the first set, or the second one?”

“Do they have that odd triangle symbol on them?” Rarity replied.

“Well, yeah. But they’ve got the little ‘o’s with a line coming off of the top, too.”

“Hm. Put them in the intermediate pile, then. We’ll worry about reorganizing them when-“

Applejack cleared her throat. Rarity and Spike looked up at her.

“What’n the hay are you workin’ on, Spike?” Applejack demanded.

“Uh.” Spike said, looking around at the sea of half-sorted pages around him. “Organizing?”

“Organizing.”

“Well, I thought that maybe if I could sort them out, then maybe that would help with things, and we’d be able to figure out what was going on.”

Applejack shook her head. “Still at it, huh?”

“Well, Rarity-“

“-Is doing her best to help”, Rarity interrupted. “Thank you very much. Is there something you wanted, Applejack?”

Applejack’s face went from concerned to icy in seconds. “No. I don’t reckon there was. Didn’t you have some dresses that needed to be fancied up or somethin’?”

“Perhaps there are. But it can wait. I’m currently occupied.” Rarity lifted a couple of pages of paper and pointed them at Applejack. “Unless you’ld care to help us?”

“Ah don’t figure it’ll do any good. Just like how it didn’t do any good for the princesses. But if you’re too darn stubborn or stupid to ignore things right in front of your face, then-“

“I-if you don’t think you can help, it’s okay! Really!” Spike interjected, glancing back and forth between the two ponies. Rarity glared murderously at Applejack, who returned the glare evenly.

Finally, Rarity took a shuddering breath. “If you don’t wish to help, Applejack, you are not required to. I believe we are fine on our own.”

“Alright.” Applejack nodded. “Spike. You don’t stop watchin’ over Twilight, okay?”

“He HAS been”, Rarity interrupted.

“Ah didn’t ask you, Rarity”, Applejack spat.

“Guys! Stop it!” Spike yelled, scrambling to his feet and interposing himself between the two. “I’ve been watching her, Applejack. I promise! Really!”

Applejack turned to stare at Spike, then nodded. “Fair enough. Ah’ll be off, then. Take care, Spike.”

“Okay. Uh, I mean, I’ll see you later, Applejack.”

“Yeah. I reckon you will.” Applejack spun on her hooves and slowly walked out of the room, pausing when she had crossed the threshold to reach back with one of her hindlegs and kick the door shut. The resulting BANG made Rarity wince, and the force of the kick made the door rattle on its hinges.

Neither Spike nor Rarity moved or spoke for a couple of seconds. Finally, Rarity picked up a page from the unsorted pile and cleared her throat.

“They don’t blame me, hmm?”

Spike sighed. “Well…maybe a little.”

“I’d consider that an understatement, at the very least. Still – I appreciate the attempt to spare my feelings. Thank you, Spike.”

“But-“

“THANK you, Spike. That will be all.”

Rarity placed her paper on a stack – eggshell to eggshell – and continued to sort, conspicuously avoiding Spike’s gaze. Eventually, she heard him sigh, followed by the shuffling of papers, and the room lapsed into silence as the two resumed work.

*****************

Rarity set the last page down, sighed in relief and looked at the clock. Another hour had passed, but the job was finally done.

“Finished!” Rarity called out as she turned to face Spike. The dragon was still hard at work, removing sheets from one pile and adding them to another, but the stacks had grown noticeably tidier since Applejack had interrupted their work.

“Spike?” Rarity said again. “Would you care to take a break?”

The dragon started, then turned to face Rarity, still grasping a page in one claw. “Huh? But there’s still work to do.”

“Well – yes, of course there is. But I can take over for you. It’s time for dinner, after all, and I wouldn’t want you to go hungry.”

“I’m not-“

The rest of Spike’s protest was interrupted by a loud Rrrrrrmmmbllllll from his stomach. Spike blushed and stared at the floor, teasing two of his claws together.

“…Hungry”, he finished.

Rarity smirked. “I dare say that you are, darling.”

“N-no! I’m not! I’m fine! Totally not hungry at all-“

“Spike.”

The dragon gulped. “…Okay. Maybe I’m a little hungry.”

Rarity chuckled. You should have dinner, Spike. I’ll just finish up after you, and we can examine these properly when you come back.”

“You aren’t going to eat dinner with us?”

“It wouldn’t hurt me to miss a meal or two, Spike. A proper lady must take care of her figure, after all, and I wouldn’t want to accidentally slip into overindulngence.”

“I dunno, Rarity. I still don’t feel good about letting you just stay up here, you know?”

“Well - I can always find myself something to eat after all of this is done. Would that make you feel better?”

“A little”, Spike admitted with a nod. “Maybe I could bring you something?”

Rarity quirked an eyebrow. “And what were you planning on bringing?”

“Well, uh…I was going to have some hay fries, I guess?”

Rarity shook her head. “Ooooh. Probably not a good idea, darling. That would absolutely devastate my complexion, and I’d probably spend more time fussing over the aftermath then I’d gain from your help. I appreciate the act of chivalry, however.” Rarity added, leaning down and pecking Spike on the cheek. Spike flushed bright red, a dazed expression on his face.

“Go!” Rarity chirped, making shoo-ing motions with her hoof. “I’ll be fine.” Though the blush lingered, the stupor on Spike’s face gave way to a tremendous grin. Spinning on his heels and giggling like mad, Spike trotted out of the room.

It wasn’t until Spike left the room that Rarity sighed and picked up the first page from a stack of sorted papers. She would have to sort the rest eventually, of course, but it was important that she learn as much as she could while Spike was gone. There wouldn’t be time for it later, not after they had finished sorting; Spike would probably want to hand over the notes to Princess Celestia, and everything would be over.

Princess Luna beat the problem on her own, Twilight had said, as soon as she thought about it a little. All we did was make it worse. We gave the Tantabus room to grow, let it creep into the dreams of everypony in Ponyville. If you and everypony else shows up with me, then it could put you in danger. Or it could feed off of your negative emotions and grow even stronger. Or it could split itself off into clones, one for each of you. Or a million other things.

Princess Celestia would probably want to go inside of Twilight’s head. So would Princess Luna, and so would all of her friends. Friends who had anxieties and issues of their own. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, Princesses of supreme power and, conversely, supreme danger. For that matter - Princess Luna, the original Nightmare Moon.

Things could be easier if you came with me. But they could be harder, too. They could be impossible. I know that I can handle what my other self throws at me, but if you girls showed up, then I don’t know if I could. And this is the sort of thing that I really, really don’t want to mess up.

Her friends, Celestia and Luna, Spike. Eight variables, eight potential sources of disaster, eight ways things would almost certainly go wrong. They only needed one pony to bring Twilight back, but everypony else would argue for all eight of them.

They only needed one.

I really, really don’t want to mess up.

“Don’t worry, Twilight Sparkle.” Rarity muttered under her breath. “I won’t be the pony to mess this up for you.”

The writing was cramped, almost illegibly so. But with the proper lens, the letters could be magnified to clear as day. A looking glass would do the trick, of course, but so would the right sort of spectacles – and the latter was far less conspicuous.

*******************************************************************

By the time Spike returned, Rarity only had half of an unsorted stack remaining.

“Rarity?”

“Good evening, Spike” Rarity replied, not looking up from her page. “How was dinner?”

“Good! I, uh, I brought you up a salad. I figured you would like it.”

Rarity looked up. Spike bustled into the room, cradling a bowl of mixed greens with both hands, looking vaguely apologetic.

“Aww, Spikey-Wikey”, Rarity cooed. “You didn’t have to do that!”

“W-well, I just sorta figured you’ld be hungry, too. Even if you didn’t say that you were, I mean. So if you’re hungry, then you don’t have to stop if you don’t want to.” Spike craned his neck to look at the stacks of papers. “Uh. Did you finish with them?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Rarity sighed. “I’ve been caught up in reading them. You’ve done a wonderful job of sorting them, Spike. I assumed that you were simply going to organize them by page number, but to have gone and separated them into actual essays! It’s simply phenomenal of you, darling.”

Spike’s blush returned, and he set the salad bowl down and scratched awkwardly at his arm. “It’s just figuring out what section of hoofwriting goes where, you know? She didn’t do all the essays with the same size or angle of her letters, so I sort of guessed.”

“Well, you certainly did a fine job of guessing. I haven’t seen a single page out of place so far! Except for the rest of this stack, of course. I…rather neglected to actually sort them. My apologies.” Rarity gave Spike an apologetic smile, and was relieved to see Spike respond with a grin.

“It’s fine! I can sort them out while you finish reading.” Spike sat down by the rest of the pile, grabbed a clawful of pages and began to rearrange the contents. “So what’s been on the pages?”

Rarity glanced over at the salad, then flicked her eyes back to her page.

The completion of the ritual, once the appropriate sigils are arranged (see diagram 6.5 and appendix A for correct arrangement and prearranged sigils) should take approximately 42.6 seconds of invocation, given strict adherence to the physical and vocal components necessary. Failure to correctly recite the invocation with the appropriate arrangement of sigils will have consequences not empirically tested-

“Rarity?”

-the most likely hypothesis according to equation 4.4 would be the cessation of the ritual. However, psychic feedback may also result, which could lead to brain damage, loss of motor functions, and possible death.

“Rarity?”

“Uh?” Rarity looked up from her page. “Yes, Spike?”

“I was just wondering what you’ve been reading.”

“Ah – theories. Some detail. Plenty of charts. Nothing terribly interesting, I’m afraid.”

“Are you sure? You kind of looked like you were worried about that page.”

“What, this one?” Rarity asked, flipping the page around in the air. “Not at all. My eyes are beginning to strain, that’s all.”

“Well, maybe I could borrow your glasses and read them for you! That’s what’s been helping you read them, right?”

Rarity crossed her eyes to look at the bridge of her snout and groaned. I had meant to take those off before Spike returned, she thought. I suppose I’ll have to downplay it as best I can.

“Perhaps a little”, Rarity giggled, “But I was mostly considering it as a change of style. Glasses are very stylish on ponies who pursue intellectual pursuits, after all, and I thought I would just…get in the spirit of things!”

Spike stared at her. Nearby, Twilight’s breathing mask continued to hiss.

“…What?” Rarity asked.

“Well…wouldn’t you have dressed up besides the glasses?”

“I figured an air of simplicity would be most suitable for the occasion. One mustn’t overdress for such a somber event, after all.”

“And why did you wait until I was gone before you got them?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise, of course!”

“Then why didn’t you point them out when I came in? Normally, you love showing me all of your new designs.”

“Well…”

“And they kind of look like the normal glasses you wear when you’re designing outfits.”

“It’s…”

“And I think the lenses are almost exactly the same. They’ve got the little groove in them for seeing things up-close, like-“

“Okay! Fine!” Rarity huffed. “I was hoping to get some studying done in piece and quiet. Are you happy?”

“But we weren’t really talking before-“

Moaning, Rarity buried her face in her hooves.

“…Rarity? There’s something you’re not telling me, is there?”

Sighing, Rarity uncovered her face. “Yes, Spike. There is.”

“Well, um…what is it?”

“Have you got those pages finished? This might take a while, and I want to make sure I know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Almost. It’s mostly just graphs and equations, though. And runes. Do you need any of that stuff?”

“I shouldn’t, no. I would assume that was simply Twilight figuring everything out on her own, and I don’t doubt that she triple-checked her equations before doing…whatever it was she was trying to do, anyway. Besides, magical theory isn’t really my thing.” Rarity chucked. “I don’t doubt I’d make things worse if I tried to check her work. Pages?”

“Oh! Here you go!” Spike said, offering the clawful of pages to Rarity. Lifting them out of his claws, Rarity began to flip through the pages. Equations, notation, a list of names and titles under a “works cited” page that ran on through half a dozen pages. Charts and tables. An appendix full of sigils. Setting the rest of the stack aside, Rarity levitated the pages of symbols into the air and began to place them around her, exactly as Twilight’s notes dictated.

“So, uh.” Spike started.

Rarity continued to place the sigils.

“Rarity?”

“Yes, Spike?”

“You’re going to cast a spell, aren’t you?”

“Correct.”

“So what’s it supposed to do?”

“Bring back Twilight, with any luck”, Rarity stated, laying the last glyph down and picking up the stack of papers she had been reading minutes before. Double-checking her work was, of course, vital; she couldn’t afford to place things even a fraction of an inch wrong.

“But how’s it supposed to do that?”

Rarity cross-compared the notes. The arrangement was perfect, but eyeballing the amount of inches was impossible at this length.

“Could you fetch me a tape measurer, Spike?” Rarity asked. “There should be one in Twilight’s room, with any luck.”

“Oh! Sure!” Spike replied, stepping outside the circle of sigils. “You’ll tell me when I get back, right?”

“Ah – of course, Spike! I’d simply prefer to have everything in order before I start explaining in depth. I wouldn’t want to get distracted and accidentally mess this up, after all.”

Spike nodded. “Okay! I think I know where to look. I’ll be back right away!”

Rarity waved as Spike trotted off. As soon as his back disappeared from view, Rarity sighed. Not that lying in general doesn’t feel somewhat vulgar, Rarity thought, But Spike…if this wasn’t absolutely necessary, I’d feel utterly vile. Not that I don’t feel at least slightly vile already, but…

There won’t be a need to explain anything to Spike, after all. I simply need him to perform a couple of small favors and pop off for a bit while I cast the spell. I’m sure I’ll be back in no time at all, and he’ll forgive me right away once I have Twilight safe and sound. Now, as for the recitation…

As Rarity flipped through the pages, it struck her that she was unhesitatingly going to use magic beyond her complete control. Twilight wouldn’t lie to her, of course, but there were many variables unchecked in a spell largely unstudied. Rarity turned to look at Twilight, watching her chest rise and fall in time with the hissing of her mask.

What if I become like her? What if the spell is doomed to fail? What if Twilight can’t be saved, no matter what? What if nopony will be able to save me, either?

If I end up like Twilight, will I even notice what happens to me?

For a second, Rarity’s thoughts drifted to oblivion: the frozen void of nothingness, of lack of ability to notice or comprehend the utter lack of existence. A fragment of understanding flickered in her brain, and her blood seared with something bitter as polar winter.

It won’t happen, Rarity thought. It will be nice and simple. Completely safe. Get in, get out, go home. Nothing to it. Now, the vocal components page should be right…about…

Rarity pulled a page out of the stack, looked at its contents and groaned.

“What’s wrong?”

Rarity looked up. Spike stood in the doorway, a tape measurer in his grip and a look of concern on his face.

“It’s runes”, Rarity moaned. “Nothing but…I can’t read this. Ugggh. I don’t suppose Twilight had some sort of translation guide, or…”

“I can read it!”

“You can?”

“Yeah!” Spike said as he trotted closer, letting the door swing shut behind him. “Twilight wanted me to sort out all of her paperwork when…well, all the time. But I mean, that included when she was researching magic spells, and it all looked like so many squiggles to me at first, you know? And she’d always get sort of frustrated when I didn’t get it right. So I just kind of started teaching myself what meant what, so that I could figure it out.”

Rarity gaped at Spike. “You taught yourself? A-an entire LANGUAGE? Of something that looks like little…little shapes thrown together at random?”

Spike shrugged. “Well, Princess Celestia had a couple of books on them in the Royal Canterlot library. You know, a phonetics guide, a little dictionary, stuff like that. I sort of asked if I could borrow those, so it wasn’t really, like, entirely by myself.”

“Wh-I mean, It-you didn’t have a teacher? At all?”

“Uh…is it really that impressive? I mean, it just felt like a thing to do, not, like, a big deal or anything.”

“Well, ah…” Rarity paused, blinking twice. “…I simply had no idea you were so clever! I suppose you’re right, of course. Not that big of a deal. Still, if you could do me a favor, it would be much appreciated.” Rarity pushed the page of runes towards Spike. “If you could translate those runes and transcribe the translation onto a blank page, that would be very much appreciated. I’ll need them for just a bit later.”

“Weren’t you going to tell me what the spell was supposed to do?”

“Ah…yes! Yes! But I do need to get everything exactly perfect. You understand, of course. I never dreamed my little Spikey-Wikey could be so smart.” Rarity giggled, stretching her forehoof out towards Spike “So if you’ll just give me the tape measurer, then…”

Spike crossed his feet pigeon-toed and stared at the floor. Abruptly, he turned back to Rarity. “No.”

“…No?”

“I won’t do it, Rarity.” Spike frowned. “I’m not gonna do it unless you tell me what’s going on.”

The smile on Rarity’s face froze. “I…beg your pardon, Spike?”

“I don’t…” Spike gulped. “I don’t like this. You’re not telling me what’s happening until everything is done, but by the time everything’s done, you’re just going to…do whatever it is you’re going to do.”

“That’s not necessarily true, darling.”

“So why can’t you tell me, then?” Spike crossed his arms.

“I don’t understand”, Rarity huffed. “Why are you being so obstinate about such a silly little thing? The tape measurer, please.”

“Tell me.”

“In a bit, Spike. The tape measurer. Now.”

“It’s dangerous, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t have to be. But I swear, you’re making such a fuss about-“

Spike turned and ran for the door. Rarity’s horn glowed, and the keyhole whined, then warped with a tinny crnkhing sound.

“ENOUGH of this, Spike” Rarity commanded as the dragon fought with the doorknob. “There’s no reason for you to be so suspicious. All I’m asking you to do is to leave me be for a minute or two.”

“Y-you jammed the lock! How is that NOT suspicious?”

“It’s nothing that can’t be repaired. I dare say that Twilight should know exactly how to fix it, so.” Rarity’s horn glowed again; the tape measurer twitched, then jumped out of Spike’s claws and hovered in front of her.

“I’ll scream!” Spike yelled at her, balling his hands into fists. “Give that back right now, or-“

“Go right ahead.” Rarity cut him off, unfurling the tape measurer and hovering it over the pages of sigils, tracking each measurement with the speed and precision of lightning. “I’m sure that everypony will rush to your aid in, oh, thirty seconds or so. And I’m positive that interrupting me while I’m trying to perform the spell – a spell without the proper incantation, I might add – will turn out wonderfully. I’m sure that it won’t cause some horrible magical accident by mistake.”

Spike gaped as Rarity continued to measure, sliding the tape measurer from one angular line to the next. Abruptly, Spike drew in a shuddering breath and walked towards Rarity.

“I’ll burn the pages”, Spike said.

Rarity froze, then gaped up at Spike, horror etched onto her face. “You wouldn’t.”

“I will.” Spike replied, squaring his shoulders. “We can always bring back Twilight some other way. And I’m not gonna let you get everypony hurt.”

Rarity barked out something far too forced and nervous to resemble a proper chuckle. “Ahah! Hah! Hah! You have no proof of anything! You’ll only be making things immeasurably worse! You wouldn’t DARE-“

Spike drew in a massive lungful of air, cheeks puffing as he looked down at the stack of pages next to Rarity.

“-STOP!” Rarity shrieked, throwing herself on top of the pile of pages. “Don’t! I’ll tell you! Please!”

Spike hovered above her, glowering. Eventually, he exhaled in a protracted sigh. “Everything?”

Rarity nodded. “Everything, I suppose. What do you want to know?”

“Well, what exactly are you trying to do?”

Rarity grimaced. “This is…going to sound silly, I suppose. You know what Twilight was trying to do, yes?”

“I want to hear you explain it again.” Spike frowned. “In your own words.”

“I suppose that’s fair. Well, then: Twilight was attempting to use a spell to go inside of her own mind, to do battle with part of herself that may or may not have existed in the first place. The last time I talked to her, she seemed relatively confident that she knew what she was doing, and mentioned that she had plenty of contingency spells in place, should something go wrong.”

“But they didn’t work, right?”

“MOSTLY didn’t work. Near the end of her collection, I saw that some of her spells were designed to be triggered from outside of her…brain excursion, perhaps? In any case, they failed to work. Fizzled utterly and completely. Poof. Except”, Rarity pressed on with a wan smile, “for one which was never triggered at all.”

Spike’s shoulders sagged. “So that’s it, then?”

Rarity shook her head as her smile widened. “Spike, I don’t think it was meant to be triggered by her. I think it was for US, so that we’d still have a way to save her, even if the very worst happened. And I’d say that what happened to her certainly qualifies as the very worst thing, yes?”

Spike looked away. Silence settled in on the room, and the smile on Rarity’s face faded.

“Well…it’s not the very worst possible thing, I suppose” Rarity added, clearing her throat. “In any case, this spell might be the only thing that can help us.”

“How’s it supposed to do that?” Spike mumbled. “I mean, what if she’s-“

“She’s not, Spike. I don’t believe it for a second. She just needs a bit of assistance, that’s all. Chin up, Spike? For me?”

Spike scratched his arm, but said nothing.

“Please?”

Spike turned to look at Twilight, chewing his lip. Finally, the dragon mouthed wordlessly at Twilight, then turned back to Rarity and nodded.

“Okay. Chin up. I can do this,” Spike mumbled. “Rarity?”

“Yes?”

“Whatever it is you’re going to do. I mean, I don’t know exactly what it is, but…please let me help.”

Rarity shook her head. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, darling.”

“Why not?”

“The spell”, Rarity said as she gestured to the papers around her. “One of the things that Twilight mentioned when we talked is that the more ponies that are involved in it, the more dangerous it would be. I haven’t been trying to keep it a secret to spite you, Spike, but I assumed that if I let even one pony know, I’d soon have all of our friends clamoring around me, demanding that we all go together. You can’t blame a lady for making these sort of assumptions, can you?” Rarity said with a soft chuckle.

“I mean…I guess not”. Spike assented. “But why would it be a bad thing? I mean, what’s it supposed to do?”

“Well, do you remember the Tantabus?”

Spike quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“Oh. Right.” Rarity said, blushing. “Silly question. Well, ah – anyways, when we went to help Princess Luna, it only ended up making things worse. Ultimately, she was the only pony who could save herself, and that was something she did on her own. Twilight assumed that the less ponies involved in a dream, or in this jaunt that she attempted, the better off things would be. She had her notes, and her facts, and her assurances.” Rarity said, nodding her head towards the papers. “Can you blame me for thinking that she would be safe?”

“I never did. Blame you, I mean.” Spike uncrossed his arms. “I thought that whatever you did or said with her, it was only because you thought it was the best idea. You’re friends, right? I mean, we’re all friends, aren’t we?”

“Applejack might beg to differ, Spike.” Rarity sighed. “Again – I couldn’t blame her or anypony else, not really.”

“You can’t blame yourself, either. It’s not your fault.”

“It’s nopony’s fault, Spike. That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”

“Well, yeah. But it’s true, isn’t it?”

“If it was true, do you think that Twilight would be like this? Do you think I would have been pouring over her notes if this wasn’t anypony’s fault?”

“Uh…”

“If this wasn’t anypony’s fault, then why did it happen at all?”

Spike scrunched up his claws in front of his chest and stared at the floor. “I only meant…” he faltered, before trailing off.

Rarity rose to her hooves and walked over to Spike. “I know what you meant, Spike. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to sound like I was attacking you, darling. I just want you to understand.”

Spike didn’t reply. Gently, Rarity reached up and placed her hoof on his shoulder.

“I did what I thought was the best possible idea, and it’s my fault that I didn’t stop Twilight from trying something foolish. It’s my fault that I didn’t insist that we help her – that ALL of us help her, no matter what she thought about the matter. Even outside of what Twilight’s notes taught me – I’m the only pony that made a mess of things. I was trying to go by myself because it was supposed to be the best thing to do, of course, but I’m also going because it’s my responsibility.”

Spike looked up at Rarity. Rarity squeezed his shoulder, and Spike shivered.

“…You understand, I hope? I’d feel rather silly if all of this sounded, er – silly to you.”

Spike nodded. “I think I do. Kind of. But…Rarity?”

“Yes?”

“I think it’s my responsibility, too.”

Rarity shook her head. “You can hardly blame yourself for being asleep, dear.”

“Even if I was, though.” Spike faltered. “Even if I was asleep, I’m supposed to organize her scrolls. Keep the library clean. Make sure that Twilight’s acting, uh…not-crazy? I-I’m allowed to say that, right?”

Rarity smirked. “It’s a rather crude moniker, Spike. I suppose it’s not entirely inaccurate, though.”

“I mean…you see what I mean, right? I know that Twilight’s supposed to be taking care of me, but I was kind of supposed to be helping her, too. We were supposed to be looking out for each other and stuff. A-and that means it’s my responsibility, too.”

“I’m not certain that’s on the same scale of things, dear.”

“She saved me from a dragon! Twice! She protected me when we were trying to save the Crystal Empire, too. And nopony would have been safe from Tirek or Discord o-or Nightmare Moon if she hadn’t been…” Spike trailed off. “…if you guys hadn’t saved us all those times. It’s not just like “I owe her”, y’know? It’s what we’re supposed to do for each other. And that means that this is what I’m supposed to do.”

Spike turned to look at Twilight. “This doesn’t sound crazy, right? I mean, I know that the stuff you said about responsibility kind of makes sense, but…”

Rarity reached down and wrapped the dragon in a wordless hug. Spike froze, before reaching up to return the gesture. The moment stretched, expanded from one second to the next; in each one, Rarity felt the faint warmth beneath Spike’s scales, heard the faint thumping of his heart and the susurrus of his breathing.

Finally, Rarity let go. Spike stepped away, and the two looked at each other, sporting identical smiles.

“It’ll be harder with the two of us”, Rarity said.

“Um. You still haven’t told me what “it” is, Rarity.” Spike replied.

“Oh! Silly me. My apologies, Spike.” Rarity cleared her throat. “I think what happened is that Twilight went inside of her own dreams to do battle with her evil side. We’re going to go inside of her dreams and try to rescue her.”

Spike’s jaw dropped.

“I suppose it does sound rather odd, doesn’t it?” Rarity sighed.

“Twilight’s evil?”

“No! Not as far as I can tell, anyway. But she certainly worried that she might have become evil, which lead her to…this.” Rarity gestured at Twilight. “Anyways – I think that all we need to do is wake her up. Given that she designed this spell specifically for this sort of thing, I doubt it should be any trouble at all. Then we can have a nice long talk about what she’s done, hmm?”

“I…guess so.” Spike shook his head. “I still don’t know why Twilight would be evil, though.”

“I don’t assume Princess Luna ever thought she would become Nightmare Moon, Spike. I think Twilight was simply trying to be careful – nothing more, nothing less. Of course, she can be somewhat….dangerous when she’s trying to be careful.”

“You mean like when she got the whole town to fight each other over a doll?”

“Exactly.”

“Or when she made herself crazy and had to wear an eyepatch because of time travel?”

“Well, yes-“

“Or when she switched everypony’s cutie marks around because of an incomplete spell-“

“You see the point I’m trying to make, then?”

“Yeah. I guess I kind of do.” Spike faltered. “So she’s not evil, then?”

“Not in the least!” Rarity huffed. “Honestly, Spike, I assumed you’ld be more concerned about the nature of the spell.”

“Well, Luna already goes into other ponies’ dreams, right? Or she’s supposed to? And I mean, you guys went into her dream, and I sort of did, too? So it’s not really that weird, right?” Spike shrugged. “And if she’s not evil, then it doesn’t sound like there’s much we have to do.”

“Exactly.” Rarity beamed. “So I can’t imagine that waking her up would be much trouble at all.”

“Then, uh…why were you being so secretive about it?”

“Well, ah – Twilight did make an excellent point about our dreams…mixing up, and getting muddled, and otherwise making an absolute mess of things. She worried that the more ponies that tried to help her with this, the more...confused and dangerous things would become? It was mixing dreams that made the Tantabus a threat, after all.”

“But Rarity, what if Twilight’s wrong? I mean, she sort of…” Spike trailed off, nodding towards Twilight.

“Spike, what if she’s right?”

“I mean, I…if she was right, wouldn’t she look different from, uh…”

“I don’t know, Spike. I – We’re trying to do something different from her. I don’t get to know, one way or another. She didn’t get to know, one way or another. I’m trying to trust in her notes because I’m trying to trust in her. Even if, ah…” Rarity looked at Twilight. “Even if it doesn’t seem like the right thing to do.”

Spike followed Rarity’s gaze. “So nopony else, then?”

Rarity bit her lip. “If nothing else…If I happen to look like, ah. Like Twilight does, then I know that everypony else will know what to do. It’ll be useful to have somepony on the outside. And there’s the trust in Twilight I mentioned, and…” Rarity trailed off.

“Rarity?” Spike asked, softly.

“Yes?”

“I know you’re trying to convince me, but…are you trying to convince yourself, too?”

Rarity sighed, but said nothing.

“We don’t have to do this.” Spike said, lacing his claws in front of his chest. “We could still go back, and talk to everypony, and…”

“Responsibility, Spike.”

“…I know, Rarity.”

“You, too?”

Spike nodded. “Me, too.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

Rarity nodded once, then turned back to Spike. “Just the two of us.”

“Just the two of us”, Spike answered as he turned to face her.

“Back in no time.”

“Because we owe her.”

“Responsibility”, the two of them said in unison. A moment of clarity hung between them, unsung and crystal pure.

Then Rarity bent down, grabbed the tape measurer and began to re-measure the distances of the symbols. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Spike pick up the page of runes and mutter them under his breath. The two worked in silence: Rarity calculating lines and angles, Spike fumbling over consonants and vowels, both momentarily blind and deaf to each other’s presence.

At last, Rarity tilted the page to her right four degrees and raised her head. “Okay. I believe everything should be perfect. Are you ready?”

“I think so. I mean, I know how to pronounce it phonetically, but, uh – it might not sound like language?”

“I wasn’t expecting it to sound familiar at all, Spike. I doubt that will be much of a problem.”

“Not like that. Uh. It’d be more like I was just saying a bunch of things-that-sound-like-words strung together. There’s got to be some, uh…dress-related way to put it?”

Rarity paused to think. “So…Like sewing sleeves separate from the rest of a garment, then crudely stitching them on at the very end?”

“Yeah? Except, like, for the whole thing.”

Rarity grimaced. “Ugh. I suppose it will have to do. In any case, I’m quite ready, so if you think you’ll be able to start translating them, then…”

“Does it need to be written down, or just said out loud?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to repeat them without some sort of notes, so I think I’ll need you to write them down again.”

“Uh. Couldn’t I just read them out loud, instead?”

Rarity paused. “That…I don’t know, Spike. I’m not sure the ritual is supposed to be done by multiple ponies at once.”

“Is it supposed to have multiple ponies in it at all?”

“Well – no, not really. We did have an entire argument about that, remember?”

“Oh. Well, uh – but if it did have just the two of us, I mean, if one of us does the reading and one of us does…whatever else needs to be done. Then wouldn’t it make more sense then having one pony doing everything and everypony else just standing around?”

“…I suppose it might make some sort of sense. I don’t know, Spike. I’m becoming increasingly more aware of why Twilight decided to try and keep things as simple as possible.”

“Well, what else are we going to do? Not try and cast the spell?”

Rarity shook her head. “We can’t simply leave her. This is still workable. Just more frustrating then it should be, all things considered.”

Rarity stared at the sigils on the floor. Perfectly arranged. Everything was ready. There wasn’t any reason to wait any longer.

“Rarity?”

Rarity took a shuddering breath. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure? You look kind of nervous.”

“We’re about to work magic that has never been worked before. If we fail to cast it correctly, the results could be catastrophic. Even if we do cast it correctly, the results could be catastrophic. Nopony has any idea what’s exactly going to happen, and the pony with the closest clue can’t exactly talk about it with us right now. So, yes – I’m rather nervous.”

“…We can find another way, Rarity. I mean, if you think this is a bad idea-“

“Of course it’s a bad idea, Spike. It’s also the best idea that I can think of.” Rarity exhaled and closed her eyes for a bit longer then a standard blink. “Let’s do this, Spike. Before I become scared and change my mind.”

The dragon shifted uncomfortably. “Uh…you want me to just read off of the page? That’s all that I have to do?”

“That’s all you have to do. I’ll focus magic into the pages around us while you do. If this works, then the spell should trigger as soon as you finish reciting, and – something will happen. The spell will work in the manner in which it’s supposed to work. Theoretically.”

“…I don’t know, Rarity. We can still find another way. I don’t think it’s too late to tell everypony else about this.”

Rarity shook her head. “If you’re scared, you don’t have to do this. I’ll try to figure out the runes on my own.”

“That still sounds like a bad idea.”

“If not that, then I’ll try to cast the spell without the chanting. Or you can burn the pages. Do what you will, Spike.”

“This is how to be responsible?”

Rarity shook her head. “The most responsible thing would be to not include you at all. But you’ve made a compelling case, and I won’t deny your responsibility simply to further my own.”

Spike paused, then nodded. “…Okay. If you think this the right thing to do, then – I trust you.”

“I trust you, too. And I trust Twilight Sparkle. With any luck, this will be all the trust I need.” Rarity’s horn flared. “Recite.”

Spike looked down at the page and began reading. The glyphs on the pages began to glow as Rarity focused. Behind her, she heard Spike begin to recite stanzas of an utterly alien nature. His pitch was an octave lower, his tone strong and unwavering.

A sudden node of pressure bloomed on the inside of Rarity’s forehead, breaking her focus and causing the sigils to dim. Gritting her teeth, her horn flared brighter, and the sigils brightened as they had before. The pressure remained, a faint and irritating push that fought back against her as she strained to work the spell. It had been a while since she had attempted difficult magic, much less something on this scale, and she struggled as the spell fought back against her.

The pressure grew, like a large hoof was trying to shove her horn aside. Rarity ignored it. Behind her, Spike’s chanting grew louder – and, faintly, Rarity could make out the noise of hoofsteps on a staircase far below.

Somepony’s coming to check on us, Rarity realized. If I don’t do this right, I’m not going to get another chance.

The pressure shifted directly on top of her horn, as if trying to push it into her skull. It felt like a bedpost jabbing into head, and was becoming harder to ignore. Rarity’s horn glowed brightly enough to cast little flickering shadows around the pages, and she heard Spike begin to chant even louder.

Pain spread and blossomed in frond-shaped whorls. Little black spots popped in front of her eyes as the sigils blazed with light, curling like autumn leaves as they floated into the air. Spike’s chanting was practically a shout, and underneath it was the sound of somepony knocking against the door.

Suddenly, light erupted from the sigils, arcing to each other, threading around and over Rarity and Spike in a glowing lattice. The dragon’s voice faltered, briefly, before rising up louder then before. A bead of sweat trickled down Rarity’s neck as she fought to contain the spell. It hurt worse then any migraine she could remember, and her legs were beginning to buckle, and the knocking had turned to the clattering of the useless doorknob, then to a loud banging against the door-

-and then the stands of light coalesced into a glowing, white dome, and as Spike yelled the last few words on the page the dome contracted, closed in around them-

-and Rarity felt the tension in her head gave way, and there was a small kick near the base of her spine, and then she couldn’t feel her legs or her face or much of anything at all, and the last thing she felt before her eyelids drooped shut was an unbidden sense of vertigo.

*******************

Rarity opened her eyes. Everything around her was white, featureless and blank.

Rarity blinked, then pulled herself upright. A second later, and her brain registered that there was somewhere it had pulled itself upright FROM, and that her legs – and eyes – were even working at all.

Which was a start.

Behind her, something moaned. Rarity turned and saw Spike, lying prone beside her, limbs twitching.

“Spike?”

Spike moaned again, then rolled over to face her and opened his eyes.

“Rarity?”

“Is everything all right? Can you see? Can you hear me?”

“I’m fine, Rarity.” Spike rubbed his eyes and sat up. “Can you do all of that stuff, too?”

Rarity sighed in relief. “Yes! Of course! But I wanted to make sure that both of us were fine, after all.”

“I mean, I think I am. I’m not sure.” Spike replied, looking around. “I don’t even know what happened, really.”

“Well,” Rarity said as she looked up, “Let’s get our bearings first, and-“

They were in a room, with angle and proportions identical to Twilight’s bedroom, but almost utterly lacking in detail. The walls, ceiling and floor were a textureless, featureless white, save for two shuttered windows. The only objects in the room were two nightstands – one supporting a simple oak box, and the other a small china vase holding a single, yellow daffodil – and a bed.

The bed was Twilight’s bed. On it was Twilight, exactly as she had been laying for two days, completely still.

“Twilight!” Rarity cried, her face breaking out into a smile as she ran towards Twilight. Rarity’s heart raced as she reached forward to shake Twilight’s shoulder-

-and as she touched Twilight, pain shot up through Rarity’s leg. Every nerve from her hoof to her shoulder was on fire. Raw, chemical surges of agony washed through her leg, over and over and over, an acidic bite that curled through her spine and forced bile up through her throat-

-and with a garbled shriek, Rarity pulled away. The unicorn stumbled backwards, breathing heavily, and stared at her hoof in shock.

“Rarity!’ Spike yelled, running to her side. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Rarity huffed. The pain had vanished. Her hoof looked whole, undamaged, as if nothing had happened to it at all.

“Are you okay?”

“I feel fine. Now, I mean. A bit shaken, perhaps, but I’ll manage.” Rarity shook her head. “I don’t recommend touching her, though.”

“What happened? I mean, did it burn you, or shock you, or what?”

“It hurt, Spike. That’s all it did. It hurt.” Rarity rubbed her temple, and a bead of sweat smeared against her hoof.

“So what are we supposed to do, then?”

“I don’t know! Use your own initiative, Spike.” Rarity snapped. “I need to think.” Carefully, she walked over to Twilight again. Physically touching her isn’t going to work, Rarity realized. Perhaps I could use magic to nudge her a little. Rarity’s horn glowed as she stared at Twilight-

-and what felt like white-hot spikes drilled into her brain, through her eyes, inside her mouth, numbing touch and taste and hearing to spasms of torture-

-and Rarity stumbled back, legs feeling like jelly, then water, then nothing at all, and with an unduly heavy thump collapsed against the floor. The world tilted to one side as her head lolled, and her body heaved before she finally managed to open her mouth and gulp down a jagged gasp of air.

It took Rarity five seconds until she could move her head, and another ten before she regained feeling in her legs. Moaning, Rarity looked up and saw Spike standing above her, claws scrunched anxiously in front of his chest.

“ ‘M fine. Really.” Rarity mumbled, aware of her slightly slurred speech. “Mostly fine. I think.”

“Is it safe?“ Spike faltered, eyes flicking back and forth between Twilight and Rarity. “Safe to touch you, I mean. I-I mean, would I get shocked if I tried to-“

“I think”. Rarity mumbled, blinking. “I think it’s fine. I think m’safe. Just…tired. Dizzy”, Rarity elaborated. “…Think I could use a hoof up. Perhaps. I meant…perhaps. Not think. Apologies. Vernacular somewhat…”

“It’s okay.” Spike replied, bending down and wrapping his arms as far as he could reach around Rarity. It wasn’t much pressure, a slight tug against her, if nothing else. But he was warm, and he was close, and it was sufficient to make the world feel a little less alien.

Rarity took a deep breath and pulled herself upright. Spike stumbled backward as Rarity swayed, then corrected her balance, gradually readjusting herself to normal posture.

“…Thank you.” Rarity breathed. “Right. So. Touching her is not okay. Using magic on her is not okay. If it’s not too much of a stretch for you, I’d like to assume that trying to wake her up is impossible.”

“Um. W-well, maybe if we tried shouting at her?”

“Considering the sadly unfitting ruckus I’ve made? If she didn’t wake up then, I doubt that she’d wake up now.”

“So what do we do?”

“Accept that this is a lost cause, and send for help. At the very least, we know that Twilight’s spell worked. All we need to do is have somepony wake us up, and then we can explain what we did and what we found. Could you open one of the windows, please?”

“Uh, sure.” Spike replied, trotting towards a set of shutters. “But how are they going to wake us up from here?”

“Well, I’ll assume that Princess Luna couldn’t find her because she didn’t know where to look. But with the notes, and with us acting as a place marker, she should be able to figure out where we are and fly in to save us. I’ll just need to project some sort of beacon to show that we’re here, and we should be safe and sound-“

Spike opened a shutter, and the room was cast into unearthly shades of grey.

The sky was filled with black and white particles, flashing, squirming against each other, popping in and out of existence at uncountably fast intervals. A hissing noise filled the air, somewhere between the sizzle of boiling water and the patter of rooftop rain.

Spike and Rarity stood, cast into silhouettes by the flickering light.

“Static”, Rarity finally mumbled.

“Huh?” Spike replied, turning around.

“Static, Spike. It’s not always effortless for a unicorn to cast a spell, even if it’s something as simple as lifting a needle and thread into the air. Sometimes we’re distracted; by rain, loud noise, or what have you. And sometimes, there’s simply so much magic going on in one spot that it’s difficult to even bring the magic together at all. Imagine trying to whisper to somepony else in the middle of…some sort of rustic hoe-down, I suppose?”

“You mean, like one of Applejack’s family reunions?”

“I imagine so.” Rarity frowned. “Twilight knew more about specific details then I did. It’s not something that comes up all that often, fortunately. Only if a great many unicorns are casting different spells all at once, or if there’s some great sort of magical…THING happening, some sort of outstanding event, is when it’s likely to set in. And even then, it’s supposed to be a personal sensation; minor hearing impairment or vision loss that’s supposed to look and sound like this. It’s not supposed to look like a physical…sky. It’s not supposed to look like the sky.”

“So what does this mean?”

“It means that if you open the window, there’s no way I’m going to be able to cast any magic at all. It means that I can’t signal for help.” Rarity turned to Spike, a note of worry creeping into her voice.

“It means we’re trapped. It means that we can’t get out of here. Spike, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

Comments

[Hillbe]

I'll send Twilight to Canterlot with my fire breath and Celestia can then help us Foosh!
How did I get here?
Spike and Rarity sent you. . .They rescued you.
Where are they now?
In your brain together alone,
Wut? In my brain together? SPIKE? RARITY?
Is that a problem?

Yuck icky no no no no Brain bleach!
img05.deviantart.net/599f/i/2015/268/a/7/untitled_by_hillbe-d9aua1y.jpg

[Relevant Heavy Metal]

How To Be You - Lewis And The Strange Magics

[The Descendant]

Well, this certainly does an excellent job of presenting a clear and present danger to all the characters involved. I'd expect Spike to be a little more broken-up about what has happened to Twilight, but then again that's evened out by the absolutely wonderful interplay between Spike and Rarity. About 500 extra points for using the word "susurrus" as well. Good job, and I look forward to seeing where this goes.