Empty Horizons: The Lost Student

by Psyonicg

Chapter V: A Realisation of Two

Twilight whimpered and stumbled back towards the edge of her bedroom, staring at the residual magic that thrummed all around her.

What had she done?

Her hooves trembled beneath her and her heartbeat pounded in her ears, but even that couldn’t drown out the scream. The horrible scream that wouldn’t stop. No matter where she looked the walls felt like they were closing in, like jaws slowly snapping shut around her.

She ran for the door, slamming her hooves against it in a desperate bid to shove it open, whimpering as it refused to budge. “Please, oh please!” Her eyes darted around the room, momentarily pausing on the window before coming to rest on the only other exit. Hey efforts to escape into the wallway were abandoned as she galloped for the bathroom, her magic flinging the door open as she rushed inside.

With a loud slam, the door was locked shut behind it, and Twilight found herself hyperventilating over the dusty old sink, fighting the urge to be sick.

Minutes passed as she struggled to calm her racing heartbeat, hooves trembling on the edge of the basin as her vision blurred in and out of focus. Over and over the scene played in her mind, only getting worse with each repeat. “Go away. Go away!”

Magic rushed through her, coalescing inside of her head, and the images were banished from her thoughts, leaving her to stare numbly down into the splattered dust in the sink.

With the panic quelled, she could finally hear herself think. But even that was something she’d rather avoid.

When did I get so angry? So hateful?

It was reasonable, a small part of her argued. The Other had pushed and pushed until she had no more patience left. It had attacked her, manipulated her, abused her. Any sane pony would agree that she was within her right to defend herself against the corruptive magic trying to taint her mind!

But that scream. Discord had yelled out when they had encased him in stone. Even Nightmare Moon had screamed in terror when she and her friends had activated the Elements. But this? This was nothing like those screams had been. It wasn’t filled with shock, or anger, or even disbelief.

It was filled with pain.

Twilight had caused somepony to make that noise. Intentionally. The thought made the urge to vomit return, even stronger than before, and this time she couldn’t fight it.

The dust was washed away by her own sickness. Once she had nothing left to give, she reached out for the taps, hoping against hope that somehow they’d still function even after all this time. Her efforts, however, were only rewarded with the clanking of empty pipes and a trickle of dust. Of course. I wouldn’t be so lucky.

With a disgusted shudder, she conjured up some magic to force the contents of the sink down. With that done, she pushed herself away from the sink and collapsed against the bathroom wall, panting weakly. Why can’t it just leave me alone? Why can’t things just be simple for once? She lost track of how long she sat there, staring at the floor and crying. The shock of her actions slowly faded away to be replaced by a hollow aching in her stomach and a burning shame.

Had she crossed a line, just now? Was it possible to do something like that, and come back from it? Something deep inside of her said no, that she had let herself succumb too far. That nothing she did would ever undo what she’d done. But she wouldn’t believe that. She couldn’t believe it. If that was true then everything she’d worked towards, all she’d done trying to hold true to her morals, would be for nothing.

Giving up wasn’t a luxury she could afford.

But if she couldn’t give up, she would have to press forward. And that meant making a decision. What would she do next? What could she do next? Ideas and plans circled around in her head, each one totally different from the others, with one notable exception. One idea that never left her.

Apologise.

The word jumped to the forefront of her mind and the weight of it momentarily took her breath away. Can I do that? Apologise to that—thing?

Apologising wouldn’t just be admitting fault. It would be admitting that The Other was a being that deserved her sympathy, that it felt pain, that it was anything more than a construct of magic that needed to be erased. Even if it didn’t see the apology for what it was, Twilight would. She’d never be able to look at it the same way.

But if I don’t… How am I any better than the monsters?

She wouldn’t be. She was supposed to be setting an example for this new world, not falling down to its levels. She had to be better.

With a firm nod, Twilight pushed herself up from the floor. It wasn’t about if she could do it. She had to do it. But even as determination welled up inside of her, another more insidious voice rose up beside it, telling her that she had already gone too far, that no apology would make this better. She had failed already.

The thought made her tense. Was that how she really saw it? That she was a failure, one that could never redeem herself? Forcing herself up, she stumbled back towards the mirror, staring into it and searching for some sign that she was more than a failure.

More than this.

But the pony that stared back at her looked nothing like the one she knew. The pony she saw was exhausted to the point of collapsing. They had been crushed down by a world that no longer cared for them until they were nothing but a shell of their former self.

They had lost.

But it wasn’t her fault… was it?

Excuses, explanations, rationalizations, all sprung to the front of her mind. It had never been her own failures that had held her back! Every time she had been forced to make a choice, to truly take action, she had succeeded!

When her friends were being taken, stolen by that accursed bounty hunter Gava, she had rescued them all without letting anyone be hurt! It was only because she was down below that the hunter’s ship had gotten the upper hand in the first place!

And the dream monster! She had rescued Luna from that horrible creature, and overcome the nightmare spell for her and Flint all by herself!

She had overcome ancient Equestrian magic when she broke free of the nullifier, and had stopped the fighting by herself. She had bested creatures twisted by dark magic, even if it had hurt her to do so. She had dived down into the depths in search of ancient knowledge, and had made it to Canterlot all by herself!

When Fluttershy had been hurt, dying on that bed, her magical talent and quick thinking had saved her from the corruption! The only thing that had gone wrong was...

The Other.

Every success she’d had, every moment of triumph she’d enjoyed had been tainted its presence. Fluttershy, Altalusia, Gava’s ship, Luna. If it hadn’t been for that thing inside of her head, that manipulative, parasitic, cruel little voice that had ripped her from her friends, taken the last hope she had away and destroyed it!

The image of Pinkie Pie slamming into the tree flashed through her head.

That thing doesn’t deserve an apology. It deserves to die!

The unmistakable sound of cracking ceramic snapped her out of her thoughts, eliciting a gasp as she glanced down to see the sink caught in her magical grip, slowly being crushed under her strength. With a start, she released her hold and looked up, only to come face to face with somepony she barely recognised.

Crimson streaks ran down her cheeks, staining her fur and dripping down to splatter the sink scarlet. Her hair hung down, wild and unkempt, dulled by it’s dampness to a colourless mess. But none of that compared to the snarl on her face, the rage in her eyes. The look turned her blood cold, but she couldn’t turn away.

Was this her? Was this Twilight Sparkle?

Rage flared up inside of her like an inferno, at The Other, at herself, at everything. She had to let it out. With a ragged cry she slammed her hoof into the mirror, shattering it and fragmenting her reflection into a dozen smaller shards. But it didn’t stop those eyes from staring back at her. Judging her. Mocking her! She snarled, tearing the mirror from the wall with a loud ping! as the bolts were sent flying.

With the mirror held aloft, Twilight paused for the slightest moment before screaming and hurling it into the opposing wall. “It’s not fair!” The pain in her hoof was negligible next to the relief she felt as the mirror was shattered into tiny shards. It couldn’t judge her now.

“It’s not fair.”

With a growl, she reared up and slammed her front hooves into the sink edge. The basin cracked with a satisfying echo, the toilet bowl following shortly after as she struck out with her hind legs blindly.

“It’s not fair!”

She raised her hooves again, glaring down at the sink, but before she could completely destroy the ceramic a sharp stab of pain ran through her legs. The aching in her muscles could not be ignored any longer. With a gasp she collapsed forward, tearing the sink from the wall entirely before tumbling down onto the tile below. Her anger ebbed and died as she lay there succumbing to the pain; her shouts replaced by sobs.

“It's… not fair.”

She spent more than a few minutes there, desperately wishing her friends were beside her. They’d know what to say, what to do. But they weren’t there. She was alone, cold, and wet.

Wait, wet?

Blinking her eyes open, Twilight’s ears twitched up to focus on the sound of running water, and the puddle she had found herself lying in. ...when?

Hesitantly, she rolled over onto her hooves and pushed herself up. She felt better, if only slightly, for indulging her anger and sorrows, but her muscles hadn’t quite caught up and a sharp stabbing pain nearly caused her to topple as she put the weight onto her right foreleg. The source of the water was very quickly apparent though: the pipes that had once been connected to the sink were pumping water onto the floor of the bathroom. Twilight reflexively reached out with her magic to close the valve.

It took a second for her brain to catch up with what she’d just done, her head tilted as she stared into the puddle, but when it finally did, a rush of elation swept through her. The enchantments on the pipes were still intact!

Hope flared to life, and she quickly rushed over to the shower. As soon as her aching leg touched the floor though, it came out from under her and she soon found herself slipping across the wet floor and tumbling through the curtain with a yelp, head first, into the tub.

As soon as the pain had faded enough to not pull all of her attention, she quickly drew on her magic to turn the faucet, staring up at the showerhead and silently begging that this would work as well.

Her patience was finally rewarded after a minute of waiting; a freezing cold spray of water made her scream in shock, her magic frantically tugging the handle of the shower back down and cutting the water off.

Maybe a little more caution this time?

Slowly, she enveloped the piping with her magic, heating it up bit by bit until she felt the familiar twinge of pain from her horn that told her she needed to stop. She’d gotten used to ignoring that twinge over the last few weeks, but for now, there was no need. How long had it been since she’d had that luxury?

A humourless chuckle escaped her. Funny how she’d always been so scared about pushing herself when it came to magic. Over the last few weeks she’d easily pushed past minor aching and even serious headaches in her spellcasting and been no worse for wear once she’d recovered. The hint of a smile faded away as she considered her situation. Maybe she was a little worse for wear.

She pushed the shower handle back up, wincing preemptively as the sound of water flowing through the ancient pipes got closer and closer. But there was no need; her spell had done its job. Warm water showered down over her and Twilight gasped as the tension she didn’t even know she’d been holding began to fade away.

“Oh, Celestia I’ve needed this…”

She spent almost ten minutes mindlessly luxuriating in the flow of water, letting the soothing heat and sound wash away the dirt from her body and mind. Once upon a time, she had enjoyed a shower just like this every day. It had been a point of pride that no matter how busy or untidy she was, she was at least always clean.

But ever since she’d escaped Canterlot with her friends, there had rarely been a moment to truly stop and enjoy a shower. The last time she remembered was… at Crazy Rich’s mansion.

The thought made her pause. Had she truly become so devoted to the task she set herself that even hygiene was unimportant? Was it that vital? That she not rest for one moment until it was complete? The concept made her frown. Since when was there a time limit on saving the world?

Perhaps she’d been approaching it too much like Discord, like Luna. There was no evil villain to defeat, no innocent pony lives on the line. Everypony was already gone, and from what she’d seen the ones that were left didn’t even know what they were missing, which meant they could wait.

Twilight winced at the intrusive thought, her anger rearing up again even through the calming sound of the water. Perhaps The Other had been right; maybe she had let her emotions get away from her. If she’d managed to abandon her hygiene so easily, who knew what else she may have forgotten?

It’s been too long since I wrote a good checklist. Since I set a schedule. Since I had a plan.

As Twilight cast her mind back, she realised that for weeks she’d been struggling to keep up. There was always something pushing her forward. The hunt for her library, Gava, her fear of The Other. She’d never had a moment to truly assess the situation.

Until now.

The urge to leave the shower, to start planning, to finally get a hold of the situation, was almost overwhelming, but something held her back. How long had it been since she’d had a chance to rest like this? She was relatively well fed, had a heated shower, and was blessed with practically endless time. So why did she want to keep moving so badly?

Twilight paused instinctively, waiting for a response, and that pause was the very thing that put it all into focus. The Other. Ever since Philomena, ever since she’d felt her own body torn from her and felt that insidious voice in her ear, she’d been terrified of stopping for even a moment. Afraid of what The Other might do.

But she couldn’t keep pushing forever. And even The Other had made it clear that she was getting close to her breaking point. So Twilight pushed down the urge to plan, to move, and simply enjoyed the feeling of the water running down her coat and her brief moment of silence.

---

Magic is a curious thing, Twilight thought to herself as she lay within the mindscape.

She was born of magic, bound to her Sister through magic, and was almost invincible to anything that wasn’t magic. So how strange it was that she was beginning to hate magic.

It seemed that every time she thought she knew what magic was, something happened that completely changed her entire perception of it while simultaneously invalidating everything she thought she’d learned.

She’d just learned that whatever magic her Sister had cast that locked away their magic was completely dependent on the pony’s emotional state. She’d been in no position to use it, but for a brief instant during her near disintegration, she’d felt all their magic at her beck and call. Just like back on Altalusia.

But it hadn’t been… the right kind of magic. It had felt wrong, twisted, weaker. She knew Twilight Sparkle was capable of almost incomprehensible feats of power. But when she’d gone through their memories, felt what it was like to wield the magic in those moments, it was almost as if the magic wasn’t even coming from them.

Rather, the magic seemed to be all around them, and her Sister had merely opened herself up to it to cast her spells. It was utterly confusing, and Twilight was starting to understand why there had been an entire school dedicated to teaching ponies the magical arts. The desire to go back through and study the moments again was strong, but the potential backlash of bringing up those memories when her Sister was so emotional was far too serious to risk.

Twilight shook her head, staring up into the swirling sky of the mindscape and gazing across the many twinkling stars above her. There was a small chance that this anger, this rage, was what her sister would need to survive the ordeals she would soon experience. But… there’s also a chance that same anger will be the thing that destroys her.

It was a difficult situation. Twilight had seen the things her sister had accomplished; feats of magic and bravery that even she was impressed by. And never had she seen anger or rage be a part of those actions. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced. Anger is not the answer.

Which meant that they both had a problem, even if a certain pony refused to acknowledge it. There was no doubt in her mind that there was some way to manipulate the situation, some combination of words and actions that would allow her to fix all of their issues her way. But the more she thought about it, the less appealing the idea was becoming. She’d been furious when she’d tried to take control back in the ocean, enraged that her Sister would throw away everything they’d had, right in their hooves, over some silly emotional connection.

But maybe there was something she wasn’t seeing. Some important little bit of information about magic, about her Sister, about their friends, that would connect the pieces. And though she loathed to admit it, anger, as much as it seemed to make everything clear in the moment, was likely only further muddling her perception.

Strange how almost being killed in a fit of rage can shift your perceptions, she thought, the minor amusement far overshadowed by frustration.

She needed a new perspective, one that wasn’t tainted by her Sister’s memories and their shared anger. Perhaps she could find some answers in the bedroom.

Carefully, slowly, she focused on creating her form outside of the mindscape. Usually it was a simple as leaving, instinct taking over the magical part of it. Another aspect I don’t understand. But if she wanted to give her Sister the privacy she had so politely requested then she needed to be more precise.

Finally she felt her magic activate, and without warning she was floating in the centre of the bedroom, a few feet above the ruined bed. For a moment she remained silent. Still. Waiting for the telltale sounds of a pony angrily kicking open the door and demanding to know what she was doing.

But it never came.

Once she was certain that there wasn’t about to be an argument that may or may not become a fight, she floated over to the scrolls and books that lined the bookshelves of the room and began to look through them.

As she did so, her ears were always open, twitching every time she heard the slightest disruption from the bathroom behind her; alert to the fact that her Sister could come out at any time. With no time to waste, she began to pull anything and everything she could from the shelf, scanning each book, tome or note with as much detail as she could spare before shoving it back as tidily as she could.

For the second time that day, she found herself astounded at how different the room was compared to the memories she’d studied. How much of what she knew was a lie?
A lot more than she would have liked, she was quickly discovering.

On the bottom shelf, one that hadn’t even existed in the memory she’d looked at, tucked away where it wasn’t visible was a box of… was this shampoo? With a note that simply read, “Don’t forget to keep clean. Love, Mom!”

Clearly it had been stashed away. But why?

Slowly but surely she began to build up a picture as more and more things were revealed. Report cards, as well as one of her Sister’s old diaries, had made it very clear that she excelled when it came to her studies which, lined up with what she knew already, but what Twilight had never seen were the comments about her social life. About how she needed to make friends and get out more. There was even a note directly from the head librarian!

“Twilight is a bright filly, and a pleasure to have in the library. But I worry that she spends too much time in here and not enough time with her peers. Perhaps somepony should help her find a hobby other than reading? - Dusty Pages”

It was infuriating. The Sister that Twilight knew was practically nothing but her friends. Everything she did was centered around her friends, helping them or protecting them or looking for them or sparing them. What had she been like, back before her friends?

Although looking through these notebooks at her teacher’s comments, maybe she’d be better off not knowing. The pony she was seeing here was an anxious outcast, riddled with self-doubt and sheltered to an absurd degree. She seemed prone to panic attacks, terrified of branching out beyond her comfort zone, and far too willing to let things pile up if she didn’t want to deal with them.

In fact, that was eerily similar to how her Sister had been acting over the last few days. She’d seen examples of this behaviour as far back as a few weeks! Putting back the notebook she’d been looking at, Twilight sighed and floated back to stare at the entire shelf with a frown, hoping a new perspective would suddenly reveal the answers to her.

The Twilight I thought I knew was intelligent, driven, and brave. I’ve seen her be all those things and more since I awoke, so clearly it wasn’t entirely made up. But the version of her I’ve learnt isn’t all there is to know.

Slowly, an idea formed in her head. It was ridiculous, unthinkable! The very idea made her angry. But she couldn’t help but entertain it, if only briefly.

Maybe my approach has been a part of the problem?

Just the thought of it made her angry. She had done nothing but try to help! But maybe, in her ignorance, she had made mistakes.

“Maybe I’m the one that needs to change?”

Twilight hummed thoughtfully, mulling the idea over in her head when her ears flickered. It was too quiet. With a start, she realised that the constant sound of running water had ceased. Had she been heard, or was it just a coincidence?

Regardless of what had caused it, she was about to have company. Taking a deep breath, she forced down all the questions she had and put on the most natural smile she could.

“Nice and clean, are we?”

---

As the minutes ticked by, Twilight felt her mane and coat gradually losing the accumulated dirt and grime of the past few weeks and, as they did, the stress and tension that had gripped her thoughts cleared away as well.

The shower was making it clear; it had been too long since she’d taken the time to truly relax. To just enjoy the moment without thinking about her next step or worrying about what still needed to be done.

And the running water served as excellent background noise to soothe away any intrusive thoughts that might try to pop up. Here, she could block out the rest of the world and be alone. Truly alone.

But… it didn’t feel right. She’d always enjoyed being alone, even after meeting her friends in Ponyville. But now it felt different. This wasn’t a quiet, relaxing, silence. This was an empty one. And even though she hated to admit it, she knew exactly what was missing. The Other.

The thought of her companion tugged at her attention until she couldn’t ignore it any longer, and soon her head was filled with the thoughts she’d been trying so hard to push aside. The image of what she’d done replayed in her head, bringing with it the same horror she’d felt in the moment.

The horror of her actions was nothing compared to the disgust that she felt however, because even she couldn’t deny that if The Other had simply faded away, perhaps with an evil vow for revenge, she would have kept pouring magic into the spell until it had been utterly erased.

All she’d have had to do was close her eyes, block out the screaming, and keep casting until her problems were all swept away.

The very concept made her stomach churn. When had she gotten so twisted, so stressed, that she’d ever willingly decide to do something like that, that she’d even consider the thought? She’d faced down monsters and magic, the literal embodiment of chaos himself! But she’d never once felt so furious, so angry, that she’d wanted to hurt them. It had always been a necessity.

Even as she thought it, another part of her was all too eager to mention that ridding herself of The Other’s presence was just as vital a necessity if she wanted to protect herself and save the princesses. Those thoughts were forced down as deep as Twilight could push them, along with the mental images that had invoked them.

Anger, sadness, frustration, all of them slowly drained away with the water until all that Twilight felt was disappointment. In her actions, in her thoughts, in herself. She’d let this new world grind her down so much that she was willing to compromise her ideals, willing to step over a line that should never have even been approached. What would Celestia say?

How had she let herself get pushed to this point? It was easy to simply put the blame onto The Other, to excuse her own actions under the facade of twisting dark magic warping her thoughts. But she couldn’t hide behind that excuse anymore. If The Other was really able to push her to the point of these things, she had a responsibility to push back. To prove that she could be better.

And while she may not be able to get rid of The Other just yet, that didn’t mean she had to sink down to its level. Clearly the situation was a little more complicated than she’d originally thought and she needed to start treating it – No, her. – she had to start treating her more like an equal if she was to have any hope of coming to a peaceful resolution.

And that was what she wanted. A peaceful resolution.

Right?

A dozen arguments popped up in her mind at the question and she frowned at the realisation that she’d already considered all of them. There wasn’t going to be any more progress made hiding in her bathroom.

With a sigh, she turned off the shower and got out, her magic reaching out to grab the dusty grooming tools that lay on the shelf beside her as she walked over to the door.

It probably wasn’t going to be easy. But like Celestia always said, doing the right thing never was. Or something like that. I don’t really remember that one.

Pushing open the door, Twilight took barely a step before being greeted with a very strange sounding, “Nice and clean, are we?”

“Ah!” Twilight had to fight the urge to jump back, settling for a brief moment of panicked shuffling, before glaring at the spectral pony hovering in the middle of her room. “Why are you just hovering in my room like that? You scared me!”

The Other rolled its eyes and opened its mouth, before hesitating. “I was… waiting for you. Clearly. You spent a while in there. All clean and ready for adventuring?”

Twilight frowned, her brow furrowing. Why was she being so strangely stilted? “What were you really doing?”

The Other blinked once, twice, before shaking her head. “Like I said. Waiting for you.

Twilight’s suspicion only intensified. “You mean to tell me, you’ve just been… waiting here. After what I did. For me to clean myself?” The nod did nothing to allay her doubts; Twilight shook her head and continued. “Why do I find that hard to believe? And how are you even floating here, after what I did to you?”

Twilight couldn’t see any signs of dishonesty on The Other’s face, but that wasn’t reassuring in the slightest. “I told you. You can’t kill me. And you needed the time alone. Even I could sense that. As to your lack of trust, that’s probably because you harbour a significant amount of lingering resentment and hatred towards me. But that’s just a guess?”

“I. Well. I mean, maybe. That’s—” Twilight let out a small groan, whinnying in frustration.

“Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.”

“That! How can you be so calm about this after what I just did to you!?” she shouted, stomping a hoof down onto the floor.

“Because it’s not a big deal? You were angry and you vented that anger out on me. No harm was done.”

“E-excuse me?!” Twilight’s eyes widened, her words coming out in a shocked stutter. “No harm was done? If I never hear a sound like the one you made again, it’ll still be too soon!”

“Okay fine, there was some harm. But it’s not an issue—” The Other held a hoof up, interrupting Twilight as she went to speak “—It’s not an issue because you regret it. Because the instant you saw what you were doing you stopped. Because I heard you in the moment before you ran away. And before you say you don’t believe me, and I know you’re about to, just answer me this. If you could go back, would you change your actions, or would you do it again?” The Other asked, lowering herself down to look Twilight in the eye.

“What? No! Of course not”

With a satisfied nod, The Other floated back. “Exactly. What purpose would being angry at you serve when you already wish you hadn’t done it? You beat yourself up over your actions enough; you don’t need my help.”

Twilight winced, stifling the instinctive urge to refuse the statement.

“Don’t hold yourself back on my account. I already know what you’re going to say anyway.”

This time she couldn’t resist voicing her thoughts. “Why do you have to be so insufferably smug about everything? It’s like you want me to get angry at you!”

“No. I want you to stand up for yourself. I want you to stop cowering and wilting away from conflict like a scared filly. This is the only way I’ve found so far to encourage you to be more assertive, and we’re going to need that confidence if we want to overcome the challenges ahead.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Your definition of assertive isn’t something I want to be. Despite your oh-so-encouraging words, I still believe that hurting others is wrong.” As she spoke she glanced between the bed and the desk. She had planned to finish grooming but… the idea of doing it with The Other watching sent shivers down her spine. Instead she elected to head to her desk, floating the brushes and combs over to her bedside table for later.

“Again with the cutesy moral nonsense. You’re so caught up in the minutiae of the situation you can’t see the bigger picture.” The Other paused, blinking and looking thoughtfully at her hoof. “I like that word. Minutiae. Anyway, the point stands! If you could save 100 lives by ending one, wouldn’t you?”

Twilight pulled herself up to the desk, her magic pulling ancient quills and parchment to her, still perfectly preserved by Celestia’s magic. “That’s a leading question and you know it. I could stop them with magic, imprison them, and then listen to their problems and help them overcome whatever had led them to harm other ponies.”

The Other floated over, glaring at Twilight from above the desk even as she began to write. “And what if there weren’t any ‘problems’ to solve?” she asked, her hooves mimicking quotation marks in the air. “What if they were just killers, like a wolf or bear?”

Scoffing, Twilight paused to scribble something out, pushing the parchment up to continue writing further down the page. “Neither wolves or bears are just killers. Fluttershy told me how they only hurt others in order to protect their young or feed themselves. She explained that the predator prey cycle is a natural one, and while I may find it strange and slightly horrifying, I’ve learned to understand its necessity.”

For a few moments the room was silent except for the scratching of her quill. Eventually the silence drove her to look up at The Other, who was floating there with a twitching eyebrow.

“What?”

“Fine! What if it was an insane pony” —Twilight raised her hoof and opened her mouth— “with an incurable condition? That drove them to attack and kill anyone they saw?”

Sighing, Twilight turned back to her paper, crumpling up the piece covered in scribbled out lines and tossing it behind her before pulling another one down. “I’d magically restrain them and get them somewhere safe. Then I’d try and find some way to block the sensory input that drove them to attack ponies so they could continue to live their life?”

“You can’t just—arghh!” The Other pushed herself down, blocking Twilight’s view of the page she was writing on and pressing her nose up against Twilight’s own. “Okay. Okay. Pony, with an incurable condition that causes them constant pain, that also makes them bloodthirsty monsters which can—”

“Stop.”

“What?”

“Just stop it. You’re being ridiculous. You’re not going to somehow convince me that killing is acceptable just by coming up with a ridiculous edge case where it would be the only option. You believe that will convince me? Really?”

The Other grit her teeth, her face scrunched up in an angry pout that Twilight was shocked to find made her look almost normal, before sighing. “Fine… I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am. Now get out of my way. I’m trying to write.”

The Other did as she asked, floating up and out of the way before coming back down to hover uncomfortably close behind Twilight’s shoulder. “So. What are we writing?”

“Ugh! Can you just leave me alone?”

“Oh, you’d rather I go back to looking through your things? Or do you just want me to hover here silently until you’re done, like some sort of pet?”

Twilight winced at the implication, turning to look at the disgruntled expression on The Other’s face. Treat her like an equal.

“Oh, fine.” Twilight said, blinking at the strangely excited smile she was given before quickly turning back to her parchment. The Other once again decided to lean over her shoulder, reading as Twilight spoke. “It’s supposed to be a checklist for fixing this mess.”

“Supposed to be?”

Twilight sighed. “It’s not complete. I’ve gotten as far as “retrieve the Elements, escape Canterlot and find Celestia”. But I have no idea where I’d even begin to look!”

“Does it have to be?”

Twilight stopped. Slowly she turned to look at The Other, fixing her with an offended look.

The spectral pony slowly withered under the glare, shifting uncomfortably before finally snapping. “What? Stop looking at me like that! Why does it have to be complete? Why can’t it just be a checklist of all the things you know to do so far?”

Shaking her head, Twilight turned back to the parchment and crumpled it up, grabbing another one and starting again. “A checklist is a list of all the things you need to do for something. All the things. From start to finish. In order. The first thing to check off on an incomplete checklist would be ‘complete checklist,’ and that’s just silly!”

“You’ve got to be joking.” Twilight glanced to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Of course you’re not. This is ridiculous. You—” The Other paused at Twilight’s expression before floating back slightly. “Woah. You’re not going to try and hit me with another magic beam of death again are you? Over the definition of a checklist?”

Twilight had the decency to turn away at that, flushing slightly in embarrassment. Perhaps she was being a little aggressive. “Just… let me do it my way, okay? It’s important for me.”

The Other didn’t reply, but she did stop talking as she returned to Twilight’s shoulder, and that was good enough. Once again Twilight began to write, but as the minutes ticked by and she went through page after page of parchment, her frustration only grew.

It was only after she’d crumpled up another fully written list that The Other finally said something. “Okay, this isn’t working.”

“What?”

“You can’t keep doing this. You’re just making yourself angry. And you’re going to run out of parchment eventually. Why do you need to do this so badly, anyway?”

Twilight couldn’t keep the sigh from escaping, her hooves tapping against the desk’s edge. “It’s important! How am I supposed to do all of this without a plan? I can’t just keep stumbling forward, hoping that I’ll get it right! What if somepony gets hurt because of me? Again?”

“And what if somepony gets hurt because you’re too busy stressing over details instead of taking action? Every second you wait is another second longer before you can save them!”

Twilight pushed herself free from the desk, turning to glare at her reflection. “What would you know about it? Almost every pony I’ve hurt was because of you!”

The Other floated back, throwing her hooves up. “And I’ve already told you that I didn’t mean it! Yes, I know that I messed up. What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to stop acting like you know all the answers. To stop assuming your way is always the right way just because you can’t comprehend the idea of morality!” Twilight shouted, huffing angrily and storming away from the desk.

“Morality? No offence, little flower, but in almost every case I can think of, your morality has done nothing but put us and the ponies that we care about in danger! I’ve made mistakes, but do you really think that your actions have always been the best? Do you really think I’m the only one making mistakes here?” she asked, giving Twilight a pointed look.

The argument made Twilight freeze. Part of her wanted to snap back the yes that was just waiting to be said, but she knew that it would be a lie. Slowly she turned around and shook her head, wincing at the angry look on The Other’s face. “No. No, I don’t.”

“But!” Twilight continued, anger flaring up inside of her. “That doesn’t mean our mistakes are comparable! Mine were made with the best of intentions, but yours—”

“Don’t you dare.”

Twilight froze at the cold fury in those words, her ears flattening against her head as the room seemed to darken around her, illuminated purely by the phantasmal glow of The Other’s magic. Her anger seemed to shrivel away and in its absence she realised what she had just been about to say.

The thought alone was enough to make her shudder. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

A few seconds of silence passed, the temperature of the room slowly dropping, before the darkness receded and Twilight found the confidence to breathe again.

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to stop obsessing over it. Over my mistakes, over your own mistakes.” Twilight frowned, looking up towards The Other in confusion. There was no anger there, just frustration. “It’s incredible how you are both completely tied up in your own emotions while simultaneously refusing to acknowledge them.”

“I’m not refusing to ack—”

Twilight froze as The Other held up a hoof, her face set in a knowing stare. Whatever she’d been about to say died on her tongue and she frowned. “You’re right. Okay. So… what would you suggest?”

The Other seemed to pause for a moment, before relaxing and giving a soft smile. One that caught her thoroughly off guard. Was it that easy? “Really? Or would you like to yell at me some more?” she asked, her smile turning into a more familiar smirk.

“Yes, really!” Twilight replied, with just a hint of annoyance. “You wanted to give your advice, so... I’m listening.”

Twilight watched as her companion hurriedly floated over to the desk to motion to the pile of crumpled up pages. “Well, obviously you’re trying to do too much at once.”

Twilight followed her over, staring down at the pile with a confused frown. “Yes, I know. That’s the point of the checklists, to help you manage lots of work.”

“No. I mean you’re doing too much with the lists themselves.” When Twilight only blinked in confusion, The Other sighed and motioned to the pile of scattered parchment. “Why did you keep starting over?”

The answer was obvious. “They were incomplete. They had missing steps or I couldn’t figure out what the next step would be from where I got to,” Twilight replied quickly, frowning when she found no fault with the answer.

The Other clearly did however. “Urgh. And why did you have those missing steps?”

Twilight’s confusion only grew, her brow furrowing as she pulled up some of the pieces and smoothed them back out; gesturing to the pages as she spoke. “Everything. I didn’t know how I’d wake up Luna, or I didn’t know where to find Discord’s statue, or I couldn’t be sure if the Elements would do what I wanted.”

The Other sighed and moved over to Twilight’s shoulder, pointing down at the lists. “All of these issues are near the bottom of the page. Why are you worrying about them now?”

“Just because they’re at the bottom doesn’t mean they’re not important! I can’t just ignore them and hope I’ll find a solution in time. That’s stupid.”

Twilight’s ear twitched as The Other shook her head.. “That’s not what I’m suggesting. I’m saying you need to focus on what you do know, and update the list as you go. This first step, it’s the same on all of your lists. Retrieve the Elements. But how are you going to do that? Make a checklist for that one point, start to finish, and then once we’ve got them we can look at making a second list.”

Twilight couldn’t help but see the logic in The Other’s words, but even as she accepted them, doubts sprung up in her mind. “But what if… I run into something I didn’t plan for? What if something goes wrong and I don’t know what to do?”

The more she thought about it, the more ways she realised it could go wrong. Without all the information she’d never be able to save Equestria. She might end up making everything worse! What if the best option was to just stay here and—

“Shhh.” The Other floated down and pushed a hoof into Twilight’s muzzle, cutting off her train of thought and drawing her attention.

“Are you listening?”

Twilight tried to open her mouth, but the hoof pressed against her refused to budge, cutting off all sound despite how immaterial it appeared to be. With no other option, she simply nodded.

“We’re going to make a plan. And it will be a good one because that’s what we’re good at. And if something comes up that we didn’t plan for, we’re clever ponies and we’ll figure out an answer. You can’t prepare for every possibility, but that doesn’t mean we can’t handle every possibility. Understand?”

Twilight nodded silently. While she had been listening to The Other’s words, she’d found herself completely captivated. The hoof against her muzzle pulsed with a warmth she had never experienced before. Was that the feeling of her own magic? Had The Other’s body always been filled with those tiny stars, like a pony shaped hole in the night sky? Questions sprang up in her mind, dozens of them. Why had she never been curious about The Other before? This was a sentient metamagical construct right in front of her and she hadn’t even thought to study it! She needed to— “Now. You’re going to write out a new list. Just for Canterlot. Right now.” —finish her checklist.

Sighing, Twilight nodded one last time as The Other backed away. Questions teemed in her head, but she knew that the planning needed to take priority. Write first, questions later. With a determined look she pulled herself back up to the desk and picked up the quill and ink.

“So. Retrieve the Elements is our first step? How are we going to do that?”

Twilight hesitated, resting her quill on the top of the page.

“Don’t rush. The fact you didn’t struggle over that step means you know what you need to do. Just let the thoughts come, one at a time.”

She pulled her quill back. Thinking, really thinking, about what she’d need to make it through Canterlot. It took her a few minutes to find that first step, but The Other seemed more than content to wait for her, remaining silent until she finally spoke up.

“Okay. Okay, I think I’ve got it.” Twilight began, watching The Other nod and motion with her hoof to continue before doing so. “First we head up to my tower. It’s nearby and full of books which might prove useful in the future, including some that could explain the layout of Canterlot better,” Twilight started, looking at The Other nervously. Relief rushed through her when she was given a nod in response.

“Because it’s nearby, easy to access, and will make the rest of the list easier. Sensible… Write it down, then.” Twilight quickly turned to her page, nodding and quickly writing down the first step.

“Okay, so we’ve found some books in your tower, we’ve stored them safely back here and got a layout of the palace. What next?”

Twilight’s stomach chose that moment to rumble, making her wince and pull her quill back for a moment before writing something entirely different. “Then... we’re going to make our way to the kitchen storerooms. Many of the rooms within the place were enchanted with preservation magic, similar to this one, and I’ll need a source of fresh food and water if I’m going to be down here longer than a few days.”

“Covering the essentials is a priority. Smart. Although I get the feeling that wasn’t the intended step two was it?” The Other asked, smirking faintly.

“Of course it was! Why wouldn’t it… okay, fine. I didn’t really think about it until just now.

“That’s fine. After all, that’s the point of the list. So what was the plan after the tower?”

Twilight’s quill continued to scratch across the page, speeding up as her thoughts began to flow.

“Next, we make for the Astronomy tower. Canterlot isn’t underwater, which means something must have happened to protect it. The tower is on the other side of the palace so it’ll be a bit of a trot, but we might be able to get a better understanding of what happened to the city from there.”

The Other nodded. “Knowledge is power. Good choice.” She motioned for Twilight to continue.

“Regardless of what we find, we head down to the Archives next. The journal I found in Ponyville spoke of forts around Canterlot.” Twilight paused, taking a deep breath even as she continued writing. “As much as I hate to say it, it’s becoming very clear that Equestria never took the city back from the changelings. And it seemed the corruption may have originated here as well. That means all that knowledge, the knowledge that could have saved Equestria, sat here uselessly while they died!”

Twilight slammed a hoof down into the desk, her horn glowing ever so briefly. “We have a duty to find out everything we can about the corruption. That way, maybe we can find out how to fix it.”

“How are you planning on studying the corruption? You’re going to need some sort of reference, unless you were planning to just read through every book in the entire library?”

Twilight froze, looking up at The Other with a sheepish expression.

“Oh, you’re joking. That’s exactly what you were planning wasn’t it?”

Biting her lip, Twilight hid her face behind her mane and went to scratch out a line on the page in front of her. “Noooo…”

“Don’t cross it out! If that’s your plan then that’s the plan! This is your plan, remember, not mine.”

Twilight paused, her quill hovering just over the page. “I guess.”

“And what is the next step of your plan?” The Other asked, pointing to the page with her hoof.

Twilight hummed thoughtfully, staring down the list before sighing. “Then… I’m not sure. We need to get into the Element’s Vault, but I know that Celestia enchanted it not to open to anything except my friends and I. My friends aren’t here and neither is she, so I have no idea how we’d break in… I was kind of hoping that I’d figure that out while at the Library.”

If The Other noticed that Twilight had brushed over this obstacle while making her original lists, she didn’t mention it. “If we can’t find anything in the library, perhaps there are instructions in the princess’ chambers? Perhaps an item of power that could be used to unlock the doors?”

Twilight gasped, turning to look at The Other with wide eyes. “Go into the princess’ personal rooms? We couldn’t do that! Those rooms are private! What would the princess say?”

The Other rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Yes, little flower, if you asked Princess Celestia to go into her chambers because you needed her… bracelet to open the vault and save all of Equestria, what would she say?”

“She’d tell me that if it was for Equestria, and if I was doing it for a good reason, that of course I would—” Twilight blushed, nodding and scribbling down the next step. “Okay, point taken.”

“So, assuming we find the information we need inside there, the final step is to retrieve the Elements and leave the city?”

“Yes! But first we come back here and fill up my saddlebags, and make another checklist. I also want to get some more writing supplies while we’re in the library actually.” Twilight muttered, finishing her sentence before going back up to add the thought; only to find it already added, a quill held in her own magical grip. But she hadn’t used it which meant...

“Oh. Thank you.”

Twilight turned to give The Other a smile, one that came surprisingly easy. But the sight of her own magic doing something she had no control over only brought the questions from before back to the front of her mind. “Okay, I need to know. How are you doing that?”

“Doing… what?”

“That! Using my magic without me noticing, and floating off without me in the caves, and… everything! I only just realised it, but I know almost nothing about you or how you work, yet you seem to know everything about me!”

Twilight watched as The Other rolled her eyes. “Well of course I know everything about you. I spent weeks trying to understand you, trying to speak with you, after I first learnt who you were. I’ve done nothing but try to learn about you since the first moment I awoke.”

“You… did?” Twilight frowned, looking at The Other in an entirely new way as she processed the thought. “So, what did you find out about me?”

The Other paused and looked around before giving a nod. Twilight watched with a frown as she floated over to the bed and raised the grooming tools. “You wanted to… tidy yourself up? How about we catch two birds with one seed?”

Twilight lowered herself down from the desk, frowning ever so slightly. Could she do that? Let somepony else, something else help her with such an intimate task? “No. I’ll… I’ll do it myself, thank you.”

Taking the tools in her own grip, Twilight walked over to the bed and got comfortable, taking the brush and beginning to work on her mane as she spoke. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

Even without seeing it, Twilight could feel The Other shaking her head. “I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t think that’s going to be possible. Most of what I ‘know’ is just a feeling, a sense of what is right. And I’ve only really been alive since I bonded with you. I haven’t exactly had a long time to figure it all out.”

Twilight shook her head, wincing as the brush caught a particularly knotted clump of hair “Except - ow! - you do! What do you mean by ‘bonded’? You say that word as if it’s a process or a connection of some sort. What does that entail?”

The Other paused, frowning and bringing a hoof to her chin in contemplation. “It just feels right. Most of what I say is like that, I know the word is accurate but I don’t know why. But it does feel right. Can’t you feel it too?”

“I… I don’t know. What does it feel like, this sense?” Twilight asked, lowering her brush and closing her eyes to try to find any sort of strange sense of connection inside of herself. No matter how hard she searched though, no ‘inexorable bond’ made itself clear to her. Just the faint sense of magical energy that she always felt.

“It’s hard to describe. I just know it’s there. I’m part of you; I was born from your feelings and thoughts and I’m still tied to them. I know that for sure.”

Twilight’s face scrunched up in concentration as she continued to search for anything ‘off’. Had it been so long that she couldn’t distinguish the feeling anymore? Had she forgotten what it felt like to not have The Other inside of her… or was it simply a one-sided process?

“Perhaps… we’d be able to better discern things like this inside of the mindscape?” The Other suggested. Twilight found herself nodding; it did seem like a sensible idea. Before she could voice her agreement though, she felt herself being pulled down, and when she next opened her eyes she was standing in the infinite expanse of her own mind.

“Ahh! Don’t do that!” Her hoof materialised as she stomped down, and the rest of her body soon followed, giving her a pair of eyes to glare with as The Other manifested in front of her. “You shouldn’t be listening to my thoughts in the first place, but it’s just creepy when you respond to them like that. As if I just spoke to you.”

The Other stared at her with a raised eyebrow. She stared back.

“You know what I was just saying about being a part of you?” she asked, an annoyed tone to her words that Twilight couldn’t help but notice.

Twilight narrowed her eyes and nodded slowly.

“And you know how I said I’m tied to your thoughts and feelings?” she continued in a frustratingly slow manner.

“Yes, yes, I did, in fact, pay attention to what you said five seconds ago!”

“Sometimes I think you listen to the words and intentionally ignore what they mean. I can’t choose whether or not I hear your thoughts. They’re my thoughts, too!” she shouted, throwing her hooves up in exasperation. “Look around you, this mind isn’t your mind. It’s our mind! Every single thought we both have echoes here. See?”

Twilight looked around with wide eyes at The Other’s shout, her body tensed as she waited for whatever she was meant to be looking at to appear. Slowly, as the seconds ticked by, the tension faded and she turned back to look at the floating pony before her with a frown. “There’s nothing there, I don’t see anything?”

“Urghh.” The Other dropped down to the floor, shaking her head and walking over to jab at Twilight’s forehead. “That’s because you’re trying to see something. The mindscape doesn’t work like that. Sight isn’t the most important sense in here. In fact, it’s the most restricting. You need to start using your ears as well.”

“What? If I need to use my ears then why did you tell me to see?” Twilight shouted, huffing as she strained to hear whatever sound it was that The Other was trying to show her. “I can’t hear anything. There’s just this weird… background… hum”

Twilight trailed off as the hum slowly became more and more perceptible. Every time she tried to focus on the sound it seemed to dance away from her grasp, but when she just stopped and listened, it came back. Teetering right on the edge of her vision. It was like mist, all around her but impossible to grasp. If only she could—

Her focus was interrupted by the sound of badly muffled laughter, and Twilight’s eyes shot open to glare daggers at The Other, who was giggling a few feet away. “What?!”

“Oh, it’s nothing! Pfft, I was just wondering if I looked this silly when I first tried this. You had your tongue stuck out and your face was all scrunched up. And don’t get me started on the way your ears were flicking about.”

Twilight turned away, flushing red as The Other laughed behind her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been faced with a magical problem that she’d genuinely struggled with. And to have The Other, of all things, be the one to laugh at her made her stomach churn. “Maybe if you stopped laughing at me and started helping me I’d figure it out sooner!” She snapped, cutting off the laughter.

Silence washed over them and Twilight found herself pausing to listen in as the faint hum began to return, only to gasp when it was suddenly amplified, echoing all around her. Does this help?

Wincing, Twilight turned around to glare at The Other who was still floating a few feet above the floor, now with a curious look on her face. “What did I tell you about speaking to me like that?”

A sigh. And then, “Look, do you want to get this or not? Because the quickest way to understand it would be to actually start doing it, and if you’re going to get all fussy and weird about it we may as well just stop.”

Twilight could feel the annoyance and anger seeping in again and she had to pause for a moment to force it back down, taking a deep breath at the same time. “Yes. I want to understand. But there’s something unnerving about the way it sounds.”

Tough.

“E-excuse me?”

I said tough. Life isn’t comfortable, nothing about this situation is comfortable. Stop being a foal and deal with it.

Twilight grit her teeth as the anger that she’d felt began to creep back up, her hooves pawing at the floor. The Other stayed exactly where she was, floating before her, now with a frown and a thoughtful look in her eye.

And here’s another example. You can’t keep pushing down your anger like this. Or you’ll just end up having another outburst. I’ve already heard what you’re thinking, so just go and say it.

Twilight shuddered at the very idea. She’d given in to her anger and it had been a horrible mistake. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

You won't have a choice. You’re not as in control of your emotions as you think you are, little flower. Even now I can feel the rage inside you. I can see it all around you. Can’t you?

Twilight froze, glancing around at the empty expanse all around her, only broken up by the light of the stars. “I don’t see anything…”

I don’t understand. It’s like you’re blind, but—it isn’t because you can't do it. No. The Other’s thoughtful look was replaced with understanding. It’s because you’re choosing not to.

“What does that mean? What do you mean by choice? I didn’t choose anything! I didn’t even know about all of this until now!”

The Other floated down, shaking her head as she landed. You’re so naive. I wonder if you even know you’re doing it. You’ve known about the mindscape, you’ve read about it. I’ve told you about it. But you’re choosing not to remember, you’re choosing to hide your own mind from yourself…” The Other paused, humming thoughtfully before nodding, “...because you’re afraid.”

Anger swelled up, fed by her pride, as Twilight slammed her hoof down. “I’m not afraid of you!"

No. You’re not.

“Wait. What?”

The Other smirked, approaching Twilight with a glint in her eye. You’re not afraid of me.

Twilight took a hesitant step back, warily looking around her before glaring at the approaching pony. “I know. That’s what I just sa—

You’re afraid of yourself.

Twilight trembled as she felt the mindscape all around her ripple. Like a strong mist had just been disturbed by a rush of air. It was still empty, but the sudden feeling of a curtain, barely holding back a storm, was impossible to ignore. How long had the faint sound of burning echoed in the distance? “I don’t understand.”

Would you like to?

The question made the entire mindscape ripple again, and this time the force of it left Twilight on the ground, gasping for air. It took all the strength she had to force her head up, and she immediately dropped it back down at the sight of the mindscape twisting and writhing around her.

You can’t run from it forever. But perhaps I can make it easier?

Easier? Twilight’s reeling mind grasped onto the lifeline. She nodded desperately, her ears flat against her head as the sound of burning steadily grew louder and louder.

Look at me.

Twilight shook her head, whimpering. Even with her eyes screwed shut, she could feel the world around her distorting violently. “I can’t!”

Yes. You can.

The shaking all around seemed to fade, if only for a moment, at The Other’s words and Twilight forced herself to look up. The Other stood there, one hoof stretched out and a warm smile on her face.

Take my hoof.

Twilight forced herself to focus on that smile, the only stable thing in the twisting maelstrom of her mind. Eyes full of stars stared back at her, full of compassion. She could do this. With a gasp, she reached up and took hold of the offered hoof.

The Other pulled her in. And the world went dark.