• Published 3rd Sep 2012
  • 9,082 Views, 768 Comments

Tinkermane - Razorbeam



Twilight discovers true love in the heart of a steam engineer.

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X: Two Like One

Twilight's ears perked up and her tired eyes snapped open as the sound of hoofsteps echoed through the silent air of the abandoned office building. She had fallen asleep after many more attempts to escape, each more extreme and tiring than the last. Outside it was darkening, the sun just now setting somewhere far beyond the boundaries of the towering buildings.

The hoofsteps drew nearer, and her heart raced with hope. "Gearrick?" she called out quietly, all of her desire to see him clear in her tone as she forced herself up on her tired legs.

She was disappointed, but not surprised, to see Myla instead. The same pony that she had teleported out of Gearrick's workshop and into the river, the same pony who had stolen a kiss from him and set this entire terrible series of events into motion.

"Well at least we can agree on something... We'd both like to see him," Myla said, standing on the edge of the circle Twilight was caged in. Her tone seemed strange to Twilight; it wasn't the gloating, triumphant voice she had been expecting. If anything Myla sounded sad.

Twilight was not surprised to find that the light-wall sprung to life to keep Myla out, confirming her suspicion that the barrier worked in both directions.

"You..." Twilight growled, glaring at Myla.

Myla just sighed, confusing Twilight even further as she only looked more and more distraught. "I didn't mean it..." Myla murmured, so quietly that Twilight could barely hear it over the steady humming of the electric barrier.

"What are you talking about?" Twilight asked fiercely, frustrated by her captor's odd antics.

"I didn't mean for this to happen!" Myla replied, her voice thick with tension, almost as if she were on the verge of crying.

That set Twilight back on her hooves. Hadn't meant for this to happen? As far as Twilight could infer, Myla had gone crying to her sister and talked her into doing all of this, but it was apparent from her distress that that had not been what had happened.

"I didn't mean for Phyla to... to..." she sniffled, her composure evaporating. She just stood there, shaking like a leaf, tears welling in her eyes as she gazed at a very confused Twilight Sparkle.

"I don't understand," Twilight admitted at length, too lost for any other words. Myla was the villain! Villains didn't cry in front of their prisoners, at least not in any story Twilight had ever read.

"I'm sorry," Myla said unexpectedly, somehow hanging on the verge of a complete and teary breakdown. "I never wanted any of this. It's all my fault; you, the Nomad... Phyla's doing everything she can to make Gearrick miserable."

"What? Why?" Twilight asked. She vaguely recalled the psychotic white pony saying something to that effect, but at the time it had been the least of her problems.

"My sister thinks that if she wrecks his life, there will be room for me in his heart when he rebuilds it," she muttered quietly. "Phyla doesn't understand... she can't understand. She's only doing what she thinks will work to make me happy."

Twilight thought for many silent minutes on that statement; so many things didn't make sense. The sister who was the root of all this was practically crying from remorse, but the other sister didn't care?

"If you're really sorry about it all, let me out," Twilight said sternly, resolving to not get swept up in Myla's emotional tidal wave. "That way I can teach your sister a very important lesson," she finished, glaring coldly at Myla.

"I can't," the black pony whispered quietly.

"Why the hell not?" Twilight growled, jumping over to the light wall in her frustration. Her sudden approach startled Myla, despite the barrier, causing the distraught mare to stumble over her own hooves as she backpedaled.

"I just can't!" she whimpered, clearly very upset about that prospect. "It wouldn't matter anyways. Even if you could get out, you couldn't even find Phyla."

"Care to bet on that?" Twilight growled, irate that Myla, for all her regret, wasn't even going to help her.

"If she were a normal pony, maybe you could," Myla sniffed, recovering some of her stability at last. "The problem is she's not normal. You couldn't find her if you tried, but she's standing right in front of you."

Startled by that statement, Twilight looked all around Myla for any sign of her sister, but couldn't find her. She wasn't wearing the suit, so there wasn't any chance she could be invisible like she had been before.

"She and I are the same pony," Myla explained quietly, noting that Twilight was looking for Phyla. "You're looking right at her."

Twilight's brain stalled as she tried to process that. That hardly made sense! How could they possibly be the same pony?

Twilight ground her teeth in frustration. "Don't give me that! If you're that afraid of what your sister is going to do to Gearrick's life, why make things up just to protect her?" the purple mare growled, glaring at Myla.

"I'm not making this up!" Myla shot back, shifting from sad to angry in the blink of an eye. "I'm telling you the truth! Why would I lie to you? It's not like you're going to do anything about it anyways," she said with a huff.

Twilight paused, finding a surprising amount of logic in Myla's statement. True enough, even if she did tell Twilight where her sister was, it wasn't like escape was exactly easy. She certainly had no reason to hide anything. If this were like any of the stories Twilight had read, Myla would be standing there gloating and revealing her whole villainous plan, not lying like a snake.

"Let's say for just a moment I believe you," Twilight said, her skeptical look impossible to misinterpret. "If you and your sister are the same pony, then how are you even sisters? That hardly makes sense. And second, how is it you can't stop her from doing all of this to Gearrick? I wouldn't expect you to do something noble like caring about me," Twilight said snidely, drawing a glare from Myla, "but I'm sure you would have tried to save Gearrick from as much as you could."

Myla nodded, though her scowl was in place. "I admit it sounds far-fetched when you put it like that. But have you ever seen my sister and I in one place? When she went to kidnap you, do you honestly think I would have let her go alone if I was worried about Gearrick? Even if I couldn't stop her myself, I'd still want to be there," Myla pointed out.

Twilight put a hoof to her chin in thought. That certainly made sense, but one case wasn't enough to-

"And while we're on the subject, Phyla never would have let me go and see Gearrick on my own like I did the other night," Myla said, turning her nose up and smiling smugly.

Twilight glared at the less-than-friendly reminder of that stolen kiss. Still, that made things seem more likely.

"Still don't believe me?" Myla asked, her smug smile vanishing as she realized her joke was not appreciated, or helping her case.

"Of course not," Twilight grumbled. "You'll have to try a little harder than that to convince me."

Myla sighed, her sad look coming back into play. She seemed different now, as if she were looking at something very far away. "I suppose I'd have to give you the whole story to convince you," she said with a sigh. "You might want to sit down... it's not a short one." Myla herself was curling her legs underneath her, placing herself just outside the zapping range of the light-wall.

Twilight followed suit, unable to deny that she was curious to hear the story behind such a claim.

News was pouring in from all over Equestria. Strange things were happening everywhere, and had been since morning. The entire town was in a panic, abuzz with news of some ancient evil on the loose. Equestria and the towns near it were in complete disorder, and the princesses had so far been unable to stem the tide of troubles that was sweeping the nation.

Thick pink clouds hovered overhead, raining chocolate milk, of all things. Sometime around noon, the sky had begun to rapidly shift between day and night, which had the ponies more worried than anything. Celestia no longer controlled the sun and the moon on her own; her sister Luna now shared that responsibility.

Any creature that could steal away control of the sky from both the Princess of Night and the Princess of the Sun was surely terrible. The news coming in was a frightening mish-mash of damage reports and letters to family and friends from other towns. From the sounds of things, it didn't sound like Tackton would be spared the chaos much longer.

Myla and Phyla watched the clouds outside with two different expressions. Myla watched each pink wisp with great interest, wide-eyed and smiling as they rained down chocolate. Phyla, on the other hand, was scowling between the window and a piece of paper in front of her, scratching with a quill.

"Aren't they wonderful?" Myla asked, tapping on the glass to indicate the clouds.

"No, they're not," Phyla grumbled, scribbling something down. "I keep running through the numbers, and the list of chemicals, but there's no reason for those clouds to be pink. It doesn't make any sense at all," she huffed, wadding up her piece of paper and tossing it into the waiting pile of paper-balls from previous calculations.

"And they rain chocolate," Myla said excitedly, oblivious to her sister's logic-related distress with her eyes glued to the irregular weather.

"Of course... How could I forget?" Phyla grumbled sarcastically, rubbing a hoof over her eyes.

"Let's go get some," Myla pleaded, tugging on Phyla's tail.

"Come on, stop pulling my tail. We're not little kids anymore, act more like an adult," Phyla chided, pulling her tail away from Myla's grasping hooves.

"Just because we're not kids doesn't mean we can't have fun," Myla pouted. "Seriously, pink clouds that rain chocolate. For all we know, it could only last five minutes!"

"Good, then the world will make sense again," Phyla grumbled.

"No, not good," Myla said with a scowl. "We should go and experience it while we can."

"Mom and dad said to stay indoors. Just like the news reports told us to," Phyla said with a scowl of her own.

"Well mom and dad are outside," Myla muttered.

"They're out at the post office waiting for letters from the family. They're doing something important, not goofing off!" Phyla said sternly, but Myla was already walking away. Phyla jumped to her hooves, following her into the kitchen. "You'd better not be going outside!"

"Relax. Sheesh, you sound like an old lady," Myla said, rolling her eyes. She picked up the kitchen's broom in her mouth, and carried it over to the sink.

"What are you doing then? Probably nothing good," Phyla muttered, unable to deny her curiosity. Myla did weird things all the time, most of which usually resulted in trouble. But Phyla could never deny that, while usually mischievous, Myla often had interesting solutions to problems; like trying to get chocolate rain without leaving the house.

"Well if that's the way you feel about it, see if I share any of my chocolate," Myla said snootily, wandering back into the living room and snatching up a ball of yarn.

Phyla didn't say anything else as she watched Myla do something completely unexpected... and completely stupid. Stringing a teacup to the end of the broomstick with the yarn, Myla headed back to the living room.

"What are you doing...?" Phyla whined in exasperation, easily able to see where this was going.

"Catching chocolate. Duh," Myla said, sticking out her tongue. Without waiting for anymore dialogue, she quickly stuck her makeshift cup-on-a-stick out the window and into the rain.

"That's mom's good tea set," Phyla cautioned.

"Well I couldn't use a regular cup; without the handle this would never work," Myla said, rolling her eyes and pointing to the handle on the teacup in question. "And what's more dangerous: using mom's teacups or dad's coffee mug?"

"Dad's coffee mug," Phyla replied without hesitation.

"Exactly!" Myla cried triumphantly. "Besides, see? It works!" True enough, the cup was already filling up.

"That's not the point," Phyla said with a sigh. "Please pull the cup back in before you break it."

"It's not going to break," Myla said, looking the cup over. It was tied very nicely to the broomstick; the yarn was threaded through a hole in the broom that their father had drilled for hanging it on a nail in the kitchen, so it wasn't going to just slip off. "See, it's on there good," Myla said, waving the broom around for demonstrative purposes.

Phyla gasped in anticipation, but sure enough, the cup stayed put. After a few more minutes of filling, Myla pulled it back inside, careful not to spill her hard-earned treat.

"See? Chocolate," she said with a smug grin, her coat stained with chocolate milk on her upper lip after having emptied the cup. "And I didn't go outside. Told you."

"There's no way that worked," Phyla grumbled in disbelief, slapping a hoof to her face in frustration. After a few minutes of silence, and unable to take her sister's gloating, chocolate-stained smile any longer, Phyla sighed in defeat.

"Is it actually chocolate?" she asked skeptically, sounding as if she couldn't believe what she was saying.

"It really is," Myla replied happily. "And good chocolate at that."

Knowing that she was playing right into the trap Myla had laid, Phyla flushed with embarrassment. "Can I have some?"

Myla's already smug smirk shifted quickly into a know-it-all grin. "But I though you said it was stupid, and wouldn't work? Besides, the clouds don't make sense." Myla said the last bit in a nasally, way off-base impression of her smarty-pants sister, eyes crossed in mockery of her textbook babble.

"Yeah, I know what I said. But you proved me wrong; can't fight facts," Phyla grumbled, unable to deny her sister the right to gloat. After all, Phyla bragged all the time whenever she was right and Myla was wrong.

Myla thought for a few seconds, then shrugged. "Sure, you can have some. But you have to get it yourself."

Phyla was reluctant to take the broom-cup apparatus. At least while Myla was holding it Phyla had an out; that teacup was part of a set from their grandmother, and their mother loved it very much. If anything happened to it, Myla had always been mother's favorite... she'd probably get off without much trouble. Phyla wouldn't be quite as fortunate.

"What's the matter?" Myla asked, waving the cup-on-a-stick around as if to mock her fears. "Afraid you'll drop it?"

Scowling and sick of being looked down own for such a stupid series of events, Phyla took the broomstick. Without a word she stuck it out the window just like Myla had, fishing for chocolate.

The front door swung open suddenly, and time stopped for both the young mares as their mother's voice filtered in. "We're back! I know you two must have been so disappointed to stay inside while your father and I went into town, but it's a mess out there!"

Their mother kept on rambling, but it just became background noise from the front hallway as Phyla looked desperately at Myla.

"Set the broom and the cup outside!" Myla hissed suddenly. If their mother came in here and saw what they were doing...

"Are you crazy?" Phyla asked.

"Mom's not going to notice one missing teacup with things all crazy like they are! We can go outside and get it later when they go back into town for more letters or something!" she pleaded desperately.

"What about the broom?" Phyla asked, her voice shaking with panic. Of course they would come home when she was the one holding the instant-death-stick device!

"To the moon with the broom!" Myla growled, shaking Phyla's shoulders gently in desperation.

"But it'll be covered in chocolate when we bring it back in," Phyla whispered, realizing that if their father saw a chocolate covered broom, there would be explaining to do.

"I can explain the broom!" Myla said hurriedly. Hoofsteps from the kitchen and their mother's continued talking told them they hadn't much time left.

"Phyla..." Myla whispered, her voice showing frustration.

"I-I can't..." Phyla whispered, eyes wide with panic.

"Give me the broom," Myla said desperately.

"No!" Phyla declared firmly, though her voice was still little more than a whisper. "If we go put it back and wash it out, we won't get in trouble."

"Are you nuts?" Myla asked, looking over her shoulder. Their mother could no longer be seen in the kitchen, which meant that she could be anywhere. That was a dangerous prospect, and the two of them probably only had seconds at best before teacup hell entered the living room.

"I-It's not broken, everything's fine!" Phyla stammered, pulling the cup back in.

"If we leave it outside, we don't even have to explain anything to mom!" Myla growled, grabbing the broom and halting its advance.

"What are you girls doing?" came the curious voice of their mother, strained with worry and stress from having read many distraught letters from family members and friends suffering from the sudden changes in the world.

Myla watched it all happen as if in slow motion, because her heart seemed to have stopped, along with the rest of time. Out the corner of her eye she could see what she had been dreading; their mother, standing in the doorway to the kitchen and the living room.

Phyla had the opposite reaction from Myla, and panicked. She whirled around, eyes wide with fear, but she realized too late that she was still the one holding the broom with the teacup. Flying fast on the end of the lengthy broom handle, the poor piece of china stood no chance in hell as it connected with the window frame.

The sound of tinkling bits of glass snapped Myla out of her frozen state, but it also filled her with pure dread. She knew she was doomed as she watched Phyla finish turning to face their mother, pieces of the teacup sitting in a puddle of chocolate milk on the floor.

Their mother would never have realized it was one of her prized possessions, if not for the jagged quarter-teacup still attached to the broomstick by the handle, which Phyla was now holding behind her back in a terrible last ditch effort to hide it.

Their mother's face fell into a slack-jawed mask of pure horror for a few moments, her eyes shifting between her daughters, the bits of teacup on the floor, and the handle dangling loosely in a nest of yarn on the end of the broom. Then, very suddenly, her jaw clenched and her wide eyes fell into a scowl that promised a lifetime of grounding at the very least.

"There had better be a very, and I do mean very, good reason for why you destroyed one of your grandmother's teacups," she said slowly, her tone struggling between angry and stern. She was their mother after all, and she didn't want to lose it, but her children were in very deep trouble. They had been told many times not to play with that tea set.

Their father came in next, eyebrow quirked and curious to see what all the fuss was about. He stopped suddenly, eying the mess of glass on the floor. He scowled also, but unlike their mother, his tone was calm and controlled, which scared Myla and Phyla more than anything. He was usually a very humorous and lighthearted man, but they could see a scolding coming on from a mile away.

"Is that my coffee mug?" he asked seriously.

Despite the shock of imminent social death by eternal grounding, both sisters shook their heads frantically.

"It's one of mom's teacups, dear," Their mother replied quietly, trying to remain in control and keep from an outburst. Her children already looked terrified, they didn't need to be yelled at just yet.

Their father sighed, and shook his head. "I'll be upstairs in the den, then. Good luck, girls." With a placating hoof on their mother's shoulder, their father escaped what was about to become a mother-daughter argument.

Once he was gone, their mother's tone finally started to give into anger. "Let's get this over with. Which one of you two wants to explain what happened to me?" she asked seriously.

Phyla, already distraught from being roped into this in the first place, made the mistake that ruined her life, and her sister's. In her desperation and fear, she set the events into motion with three simple words.

Clutching the broom tightly and taking a deep breath to gain control of her fear, she looked head-on into her mother's angry eyes.

"It's Myla's fault."

Phyla dashed out of the house after Myla, their mother shouting for both of them to come back this instant. Phyla wasn't going to listen, no matter how much more trouble the two of them got in. Myla wasn't running from their mother anyways; she was running from her sister.

Both of them had gotten a severe shouting at, and a long lecture, but Myla had gotten an extra bit all to herself because of Phyla's lie.

"Why would you rope your sister into your silly pranks?" their mother had scolded her. "You and I both know she would never have been the type to do something like that. You two are twin sisters, you should be trying to be a good influence to one another, not causing trouble together!"

It had gone on for many more minutes, and all the while Phyla watched brokenhearted as her sister suffered yelling at and an extra grounding she didn't deserve. Myla never reacted, never even blinked, which only worried Phyla more. She just stood there, shoulders squared, and took the punishment like it didn't matter.

But as soon as it had ended, Myla had turned and bolted out of the house.

Phyla was breathing hard as she ran down the road after her sister. She was the studious one, always indoors and reading. Myla was always out and about, running and laughing and playing. She was easily in the better shape between the two of them, and she was quickly pulling away.

Phyla knew where she was going, though. Despite that she knew it wouldn't help, she called out to Myla over and over to try and get her attention, to get her to stop. Phyla's lungs burned, but the guilt for hurting her sister ached more than anything physical ever could.

She finally spotted her right where she knew she'd be; huddled under a tree just outside the decorative wall that surrounded the town. It was her private place, not that it actually was one. You could see if from the road and everything, and plenty of the neighborhood kids used the tree as a popular play zone. But anytime Myla wanted to be alone, this was where she ran to.

Generally 'alone' counted everyone except Phyla, but this time she knew that she was just like everypony else, and Myla didn't want to talk to her. Phyla stood on the road, kneading her hooves back and forth and biting her lip. If she went over there, there would be more yelling. Yet she couldn't just let things go the way they were going. She owed Myla an apology.

Her mind made up, she galloped over, panting from the run over from the house. "Myla..." she said quietly, trying to sound apologetic from the very get go.

"Go away!" Myla cried, and it was clear already that she had been sobbing the whole run over to the tree.

"Myla, I'm sorry..." Phyla said sadly, her ears folded flat to match the emotion of sorrow in her eyes.

"Sorry?" Myla asked, standing up suddenly and whirling on Phyla. "Sorry huh?" she growled angrily.

"Y-yes? Of course I am..." Phyla stammered, backing up a step.

"Sorry doesn't cut it!" Myla shouted, slashing a hoof through the air to illustrate her point. "Because of your big, stupid mouth, I'm grounded for a month! A month! And you're grounded for just two weeks! What's the point of that huh? All you do is stay inside anyways. I'm the one who goes places and does things. All you do is read!" she screamed, walking closer to Phyla with every sentence.

Phyla, at a loss for words, simply backpedaled to keep from causing a physical confrontation. She stopped suddenly as she realized she was being rained on by chocolate again. Myla stood safe and dry under the leaves only a few feet away, but Phyla didn't complain. Tears welled in her eyes as her sister kept yelling at her, but she didn't fight back. She deserved this.

"I always covered for you! All the time! Remember the time you were home late from the library? Mom was worried sick, and I told her that I invited you over to the Bottle's party because I thought you felt left out. Or what about the time where..."

Phyla listened carefully at first as her long list of salvation at Myla's hooves came to light, but she quickly became lost in her own thoughts. It wasn't surprising to see how many times it had happened, but Phyla had always been unaware of it on the surface. It just seemed like the thing between them; Myla was the one best suited to handle trouble. Myla was often times the one who caused it, truth be told.

Phyla had never once covered for Myla. To make herself feel a little better, Phyla quietly told herself that that would be hard to do. Myla was always out and about, causing trouble Phyla generally didn't know about. She couldn't help with problems she'd never even heard about until it was too late and it was punishment time. Phyla wasn't a good liar like Myla; she couldn't just make up a story on the spot about how it had been her fault and not her sister's.

The truth was that Phyla had watched for years and years as Myla got in trouble, ever since they were little. Myla never complained, always took the brunt of it, and then just laughed it off. But Phyla was afraid to be in trouble. Myla had always protected her from that.

This wasn't like other times when she had made a simple mistake. Myla had had the entire situation with the teacup under control. If she had gone with Myla's plan, nothing would have happened. They would have gone out, gotten the teacup later, and put it back with no harm done.

Myla had tried to save Phyla by having her hide the cup. But for the first time, and without knowing it, Phyla had rejected her help. Phyla had had her chance to let Myla help her, and had turned it down.

Phyla clenched her jaw, tears and chocolate rain alike dripping from it into a puddle she couldn't see because it was suddenly nighttime. Myla had just been trying to help, and after refusing to follow her advice, Phyla had thrown her to the wolves when things went sour. All because she was afraid of being the one in trouble.

When the sun came back again after a few moments, Myla was simply standing under the leaves, glaring and breathing heavily, her momentum spent.

"I've always looked out for you, and you sold me out," Myla said coldly, as if somehow she had known all along that Phyla wasn't truly listening, and needed a summary.

That summary weighed a thousand tons on her heart. It was the summary of everything Myla had said, and everything Phyla had thought for the past minutes.

"But what should I expect? Everything's just numbers to you, isn't it?" Myla asked snidely, her tone angry and rude. "It probably didn't take you very long to realize you'd be grounded less if you just blamed me."

That stung more to Phyla than anything so far. Just numbers? "T-that's not true..." Phyla sniffled quietly. "I just panicked."

"All you ever think about is what makes sense and what doesn't! Funny thing is that it makes perfect sense to take the blame for something you did. I had it all figured out; you're the one who broke the stupid cup!" Myla roared.

That was enough to make Phyla switch over from dejected to angry. "I told you it's not like that!" Phyla shouted back. "I just panicked! But what would you know about panicking? You're in trouble all the time, so big deal right? All you ever do is have fun, you never think about being the responsible one. None of this would have happened if you had just left the teacup alone in the first place!" she screamed.

There was a moment of tension between the two of them that was almost tangible, sparks flying between their glaring eyes until at last, as if by some unspoken signal, the two of them jumped at each other with a yell. They kicked and rolled, pulling manes, biting ears; anything to let their anger out physically and prove they were each right and the other was wrong.

Not one bit of it hurt like the words they had spoken.

"Well, this is definitely one of the more interesting things I've seen today. To be honest I'm a little jealous I'm not the one who caused all the trouble," came a mockingly sad voice neither of the sister's recognized from the tree behind them. "But I suppose chaos happens on its own sometimes. It's a good thing I found it before it ran itself out," came the voice again, this time sounding as if the speaker had a mouthful of something.

The two mares whirled around, quickly breaking up the fight to look for their unexpected observer.

"Oh, don't stop on my account," chuckled the speaker. From out of the shade of the tree stepped a creature unlike anything the sisters had ever seen before. It seemed to be a mixture of all odds and ends of things; part goat, bird, lion, even dragon. The creature tossed aside an empty popcorn bag, which promptly caught fire and burned away before even hitting the ground, the tall mismatched thing still chewing on its last pawful of kernels.

Phyla recognized it immediately from a description she had read in a biology book once. "Draconeqquis..." she whispered fearfully, her anger quickly enveloped by a sense of dread.

"You got it. Kind of impressive, don't you think?" The creature asked with a fanged smile that seemed more mischievous than threatening, turning about and flexing his mismatched arms for show.

Myla, however, had heard nothing about any such creature, and couldn't give half a care. "What do you want?" she huffed angrily, still pissed off and not in the mood for visitors.

The creature put on a sad expression and pressed a lion's paw to his chest in mock hurt. "Why, just to watch the show. Unfortunately it seems like the two of you don't like an audience."

"No, we don't. Get lost," Myla said angrily, turning back to glare at Phyla as if that would be the end of it and the draconeqquis would just leave like she said.

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but it doesn't sound like you two are done fighting yet," the creature said idly, eying the nails on its eagle-talon of a left hand as if trying to play casual, and doing a very poor job of it.

"That's none of your business," Myla grumbled.

Phyla, who had up until now remained in shocked silence, muttered something also, but neither Myla nor the creature heard it.

"Actually, it is my business," the creature chuckled excitedly, as if that prospect just made him the happiest thing alive. "You see, my name is Discord. I'm the Lord of Chaos, and I have to tell you, I can smell chaos between the two of you a mile away. It smells a bit like cinnamon," he said with a sly smile.

"What do you want with us?" Phyla asked fearfully. Myla, for her part, didn't seem to catch on.

"Listen, lord of whatever, I'm not done beating up my sister yet," she said gruffly.

"Oh, sisters shouldn't fight," Discord said with a pout. "It just breaks my heart. I think I can help the two of you sort this whole mess out, clean as a whistle," he said with an odd smile that even punched through Myla's shield of anger, making her uncomfortable.

"And how's that?" she asked skeptically, unable to shake the feeling of dread in her stomach.

"Myla, the fun-loving one. Quick to laugh and quick to anger, any smile's worth some danger," Discord chuckled, suddenly kneeling next to Myla, his draconic tail looped around her as if trapping her in a living fence, a lion's paw pressed tight against her side as he hugged her close and whispered those words in her ear.

Myla stiffened immediately in fear and confusion, but no sooner had she registered what was happening than he was gone as suddenly as he had been next to her.

"Phyla, the logical sister. No time for silly fun and games, the world to you is numbers and names," he whispered in the other mare's ear, his embrace similarly sudden and close before he vanished once more.

He appeared again before them suddenly, tapping his mismatched fingers together in clear delight. "How wonderful! You both see each other as complete opposites," he laughed.

"What's so funny?" Myla asked, unnerved and still angry.

"Oh, nothing," Discord said, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. "Just that the two of you are fighting over who's right about the other, when really you're both right."

"What are you talking about?" Phyla asked, confused.

"Well, if you could just agree that you were either both right, or both wrong, you wouldn't be fighting," Discord pointed out. "But you both think you're right and the other is wrong. So solving your problem is easy; I'll just prove you're both right," he said, snapping his fingers.

"How do you plan to do that?" Phyla asked cautiously.

"Why, with a friendly game!" Discord said with a smile. "I'll even let you pick what we play! It's very simple; if the two of you win, you can go back to your horrible fight," he said, clasping his hands together over his chest and tearing up a little as if that were the saddest thing he could imagine.

"And if you win?" Myla asked, now equally as skeptical as her sister.

"Well then, I'll prove you both right. Either way, you win! Isn't that great?" Discord said with a happy smile, as if it were just the clearest, simplest thing ever.

Myla and Phyla looked at one another, confused. How could he just prove them both right? For once, Myla could agree with the conclusion she saw in Phyla's eyes; this didn't make any sense at all. As if through some form of telepathy, the two girls nodded.

"Fine, the game is chess," Phyla said simply. She and her sister had played almost every day together since they were very young, and though Phyla was the better of the two, being on a team against Discord would help their odds.

"Oh, it's been a while since I've played that one," he said with a scowl. "There are so many rules, it ties my stomach in knots just thinking about it," he griped. Even so, he snapped his fingers, and out of thin air appeared an ornate chessboard and a full set of ivory and onyx pieces. "Still, I did promise to let you pick the game."

Another snap later, and three chairs appeared around the board. Discord took his, sighing in comfort as he settled in at the black set of pieces.

Phyla and Myla sat as well. Being the white set, they moved first, sliding a pawn out a couple of spaces ahead.

The last thing they ever remembered together was the sight of glowing yellow eyes, and the wicked grin of a perfect predator.

"When we woke up, we found ourselves in a single white room. It had no windows, no paintings. Only two chairs, a chessboard, and a single black door," Myla said quietly. "All I could remember was feeling angry; so angry. I was so furious that it actually burned inside. It hurt," she said, tears streaming down her face.

"The last thing I remembered was the fight Phyla and I had been having. I couldn't control myself, and I attacked my sister in that strange room. But she didn't fight back, she just let me hit her... over and over," Myla sobbed. "Then she told me the fight was pointless. She told me that Discord had been right; that we had been right about each other. She never showed a single emotion through the whole thing. No sadness, no anger. Nothing," she whispered, wiping her tears away.

"We sat for what felt like days. Anytime I tried to talk to her, she wouldn't have much to say. Anytime I apologized for attacking her when I woke up, she would just say that she knew why I had done it. Eventually she explained to me how we had changed. I didn't know how she knew it, but somehow I knew she was right. We had both become exactly what the other had said we were. We slowly learned the rules for controlling the body we now share; it all revolves around that chessboard in the strange white room. We have to play, and whoever wins controls the body; like some sick joke Discord left behind to remind us of how we had ruined our own lives." Myla laid her head down on the floor tiredly, as if she just couldn't find the heart to hold her head up anymore.

A long pause followed. Twilight sat in shocked silence, unable to think clearly for a few moments. The quiet had been going on long enough now for her to know that the story was over, but there was so much going on in her head that things still seemed loud. It was just so much to take in, and though it had taken only an hour to hear it all, it felt like it had been days. Their story was all at once almost laughably simple, and yet so tragic.

They had just been young mares then; younger than Twilight even, though not by much. It had been five long years since Twilight and her friends had turned Discord back into stone, five years since she had even given that adventure a single thought. It was strange to hear the name mentioned again, and even stranger to hear tales of other places affected by his brief return.

Most importantly of all, though, the story explained everything. Discord, the wager, even the fight between the sisters. Everything in it was a recipe for pure chaos, and it fit perfectly. Discord's magic was certainly powerful enough to merge the twins into one being; for him, such a thing would have been so simple.

But this level of meddling was unlike anything Twilight had seen before. With these two mares, Discord had gone farther than anything she had been able to see with her own eyes during the time of his return. Floating buildings, rapidly shifting day and night, and chocolate rain were certainly chaotic, but they were simple.

This type of chaos was horrific; the type that could ruin two lives completely. Somehow, unlike all the other problems Discord had caused, this one had not ever resolved itself when he was imprisoned again.

"It makes sense now that you're both the same pony. Just twin sisters, trapped in one form," Twilight said sadly, sighing as she finally reached all of her conclusions. "Even the room makes sense; it's a place in your shared mind, where Discord forces you to relive the game that changed you every day." It was a terrible existence, one Twilight couldn't see as anything like the other mischief of Discord.

"You remind me of her," Myla said suddenly, her tone melancholy and her eyes closed with her chin still on the office floor.

Twilight felt confused again for the umpteenth time that day. "Of who?"

"Phyla. Before she changed. Always thinking, saying what makes sense and what doesn't," she said with an empty laugh. "I even recognize the sad look in your eye; it's the same one she used to look at me with anytime I took a yelling at for her. Like you think it's your fault and you're sorry, but you don't know what to do."

Twilight was shocked. It was as if Myla could read her thoughts perfectly. Twilight had thought over and over since learning the horror of their condition that if she had just been able to defeat Discord sooner, this young mare and her sister would have been spared their fate. It was true, she didn't know what she could do to help; all the other problems had solved themselves.

"I don't know why I'm telling you all of this," Myla said, the empty laugh echoing off the walls of the cubicles once more. "I mean, you're my rival for Gearrick's love. That's how I know you, anyways. But everything is so wrong now; this isn't how it was supposed to happen," she said, a shaky sigh leaving her lips. "And I can't help but see my sister in you. She sees it too, I think. It's why she's going so far to keep you trapped here. She's afraid of you."

"Why?" Twilight asked, unable to process it all, still a little taken aback by the strange trust Myla had shown by telling her that story.

"Because she knows that if anypony could stop her, it would be somepony like her old self," Myla said with a sigh.

"I wish I could help..." Twilight said sadly, her ears going flat. "I feel the same way about you; rivals, I guess. But what happened to you isn't fair. It's terrifying."

"I guess we agree on something else," Myla said quietly. "I've been against you this entire time, and I don't even know your name."

"Twilight," the purple unicorn replied, not giving it a second thought. "Yours?"

No response came for a few moments, so Twilight stole a glance at her unnamed companion. Though she had been laying down and hanging her head as if exhausted only moments before, she now sat up stock straight, her black ears perked as if in panic. Her magenta gaze burned holes in Twilight's own amethyst eyes.

"Myla..." she replied mechanically. Her sudden attention was alarming, and her gaze, though it was clearly fixed on Twilight, seemed as if it were somewhere else. As if she were seeing her without seeing her.

"What's wrong?" Twilight asked, her voice full of concern. Something wasn't right.

"You're Twilight Sparkle..." Myla whispered, as if she couldn't believe it.

It hit Twilight suddenly like a ton of bricks. Her name had been on the front page of every newspaper in every town hit by Discord for her triumph over chaos. Tackton, Myla's home, wouldn't have been any different. Everyone there would have known that she was the one who had defeated Discord.

Including two young mares whose lives had been torn to shreds.

Twilight put a hoof to her mouth as she realized what that must mean to Myla, the only sister of the two who could still feel emotions like anger, and a desire for revenge.

Myla stood suddenly, her face shifting from shock to a scowl of determination. She started heading for the suit, which caused Twilight to leap to her hooves and follow her.

"What are you doing?" Twilight asked, afraid of what the emotional mare might accomplish with the suit at her command.

"I'm letting you out," she said defiantly, her voice sharp with an edge of anger. "Forget everything else; even compared to my love for Gearrick, my hate for Discord comes first. There hasn't been a single moment since Discord changed us where I didn't think of revenge for what he'd done to my sister and I. There hasn't been a single emotion I've felt since that day that was stronger than my hate for that creature... and you stopped him," she whispered quietly, pausing before the device that kept Twilight trapped.

"Myla..." Twilight started, unable to comprehend the level of emotion she would have to feel to go against her sister in favor of the mare who had gotten her the revenge she had wanted.

"Even if we never get to change back, I owe you... My sister would understand, if she still could," she said sadly, reaching for the suit.

Myla froze suddenly, a visible shiver running through her. Without warning she collapsed, inches from the suit.

Twilight tried to rush over to her as her typical concern took hold, but of course the barrier stopped her. "What's going on?" Twilight asked worriedly. Myla seemed to be slowing down, almost as if she were being frozen solid moment by moment. Her coat began to fade from black to grey, and her eyes lost all color, shifting to black.

"I... I'm sorry," Myla whispered, her words sounding as if she were very tired. "I... lost track of the time..." she said, closing her eyes.

"I don't understand," Twilight said, laying down and getting her face as close to the light wall and Myla as she could without being shocked.

"There's rules... It's not my turn anymore," Myla gasped, clearly struggling to keep conscious long enough to explain. "Now Phyla and I have to fight... for the body. And I don't think she's going to let me win this time."

"Hang on," Twilight whispered desperately, flinging spell after spell at the barrier in an effort to break through and get to Myla. Her concern ignored logic as she attempted spells she had long ago already given up hope on in her efforts to escape. The office danced with angry blue and purple light, casting stark shadows everywhere.

"If it's not me who wakes up, you stop her... Nothing you can do for me..." Myla whispered, a few rapid breaths sounding almost like a laugh to Twilight. "I'm sorry I can't let you out..."

"Just hang on!" Twilight growled, horn flaring brilliantly as she unleashed even more magic to try and help Myla remain in control, even if she had no idea how to.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." Myla's lips kept moving, even when her voice finally stopped. Twilight's hopes of escaping vanished on the wings of that tired, silent apology.