• Published 24th Jul 2012
  • 2,977 Views, 107 Comments

The Witch - DavidReinold



A young man attempts to unravel the mystery that is Twilight Sparkle.

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Cantamen Primum - Bibliotheca Hieme (II Pars - Conventus)

The first thing I see is her eye, her beautiful lavender eye, looking out of the glass viewing port. Then, noticing that I am a regular, she stands slightly more upright, allowing me to see her face. She bears an expression of curiosity, as though wondering why a library regular should be calling at this time of night; and it would be a very good question for her to ask.

But the responsibility to instigate that conversation would be mine, not hers. She would likely stay out of my way as I searched for my book of choice - why indeed would she assume that her late-night guest be in fact interested in meeting her, instead of meeting her unabridged written history of the world? To her, the latter appeared far more interesting. But the story of a young girl who seemed to be afraid of making friends - now there was a story I would rather like to hear.

She slowly opens the door, and with a flourish of her free hand, silently offers me the vast selection of her personal collection. I am quite tempted to take her up on that offer, as I have been known to enjoy a fair bit of reading myself, but I choose instead to focus on the task at hand.

I am not sure where to start, so I select a small comment to thread the conversation.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" I blurt out, "I absolutely love a cool winter evening. A bit frigid, but one can't have it all perfect, I suppose."

She nods and smiles at me, before running off with a stack of books tucked under her arm. I attempt to follow her path, but before I can discern which direction she's headed, she is already lost, well out of my sight.

This is going to be tougher than I suspected.

I grab a lamp from a nearby table and head off in the direction I suspect she had gone. The library is very desolate, but outside the world is still rather active. I nearly flinch when the headlamps from an automobile flash through the large stained-glass window of the dark hall. Waiting for my eyes to re-adjust, I begin scanning through titles from the nearest shelf. The Life and Death of Starswirl the Bearded...One-Thousand More Ways to Start a Thesis Essay...The Equestrian World Atlas......why, these books had all been written by her! Every last one of them! My jaw nearly drops as I skim further titles and see her name stamped into each and every binding.

Surely, I think to myself, she merely stamps them, to indicate that they are part of her personal collection. How silly of me, to believe that she wrote all of them...

But as I continue scanning, it occurs to me that none of the books have author names... nor have I seen any of these books outside of this library. Could they actually be...? No, it is a silly thought. I push it aside.

My attention remains on the innumerable shelves of books, all emblazoned with her name. In fact, I take so little notice of my surroundings that I nearly do a double take when a book approaches me from the side. Actually, it is not a book at all, but is, in fact, several books stacked on top of each other. The stack of books yelps as I collide with them. The heavy volumes meet the wood floor with a dull thud, followed by a slightly louder thud that sounds human.

Twilight! I ran right into her without even noticing. Instinctively, I reach out and offer her my hand.

"Are you alright?" I ask her, "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't see you."

She hesitantly takes my hand, and I pull her upright. She smiles meekly at me. There is a long and awkward pause as we both watch each other carefully.

Finally, crouching down, I say, "here, let's get these books picked up."

"Yeah, alright," she says softly. I almost freeze. This is the first time I have ever heard her speak. Her voice, it's like a thousand tiny pianos all playing in concert. I feel my heart ache for a moment. This feeling I have for her could not get any stronger. I need to act, soon.

"Hey, so umm... who wrote these books? I only see your name on them."

She turns her head in my direction, eyes wide. Her face flushes, and without any further comment, she runs off down the corridor. I follow after, as quickly as I can.

"Hey!" I shout, "what's the matter? Why are you in such a hurry?"

But she doesn't stop. She doesn't even slow down. Even with those heavy volumes in her arms, she can run quite fast. Fortunately, I'm not carrying any books. I run faster. Twenty feet. Ten feet. Five feet. She is right there, within arm's length. I thrust a hand out and reach for her shoulder. If I can just catch up with her, get her to slow down so we can talk, maybe I could-

And then my hand clasps thin air. A flash of violet light shakes my eyes, and before I can tell what has happened, Twilight Sparkle has vanished into thin air.

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