• Published 17th Feb 2020
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Twilight Sparkle is an Espeon Now - Starscribe



Twilight wakes up one day, and she isn't a pony anymore. If she were the only one, things might not be so bad. She isn't.

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Chapter 1

Twilight Sparkle knew something was wrong from the first moment she woke. She could feel it in her fur, from the tip of her nose right down to her tail. She yawned, stretched, then shook herself out, rising from her bed.

Well, she would’ve stood up from the bed, except that she was no longer resting with calm poise right on the edge of the bed from one side. Rather, she was now completely surrounded by a sea of blankets, expanding around her in all directions and blocking out the light. While this hadn’t mattered only seconds before, she decided rather abruptly that it mattered a great deal.

Twilight yowled, leaping into the air with all her strength. She struggled against the blankets with legs and claws—not wings, as those seemed strangely numb. But she didn’t do much thinking, just fighting. She fought and struggled until she’d managed to emerge near her pillows, and she could assess the damage.

There was a row of identical pillows here, each one the perfect shade of lavender to match with her creamy sheets and her fur. But just now, each one was about as large as she was. She pawed at the nearest one skeptically, and found it felt exactly as she remembered.

Her hoof, however, did not. She lifted it closer to her face, squinting down at what she saw. There was a paw there, soft pads ending in a set of retractable claws that slipped away even as she looked at them. I’m a housecat. She was something like one, anyway. Her fur was a little lighter, but not much. Twilight was no Fluttershy, but she was fairly certain cats weren’t supposed to come in purple.

Her mind raced, trying to remember anything she could’ve possibly done to cause this. But she drew a continuous blank. Transformation spells were incredibly dangerous and precise, and they weren’t something to be used casually. Changing herself into an animal was exactly the sort of thing that would get her written up in some “introduction to sorcery” textbook as an example of the dangers of spellcasting hubris.

“Spike, are you there?” she asked. Her voice sounded completely strange to her—feline mewling mostly, though the tones she repeated didn’t sound quite right for that. Whatever, he wasn’t in her bedroom anymore anyway. She’d have to find her assistant, or maybe Starlight Glimmer. Somepony would help her, anyway.

She made her way to the edge of the bed, finding the steps came only with difficulty now that she knew how strange her body had become. She reached the edge, staring down at a drop that hadn’t even been the height of her body before. It now seemed like several meters, a fall that would surely break her legs if she landed without wings. A quick glance behind her confirmed what she felt on that score—there were no wings, only a tail that lifted high behind her in agitation and fear.

A tail shouldn’t have so much meat to it. But even as she thought, it whipped around from behind her, giving her a clear view. Her tail forked at the end, something else she’d never seen from a cat before. If they can’t change me back right away, I might need Fluttershy to tell me more about whatever magical creature I’ve become.

Twilight hesitated, then lunged forward off the edge of the bed. The air rushed past her, but her paws seemed to know what to do. She landed deftly, without anything more than a slight strain from her legs. It didn’t hurt.

She scampered forward along the polished crystal floor, relying mostly on her claws to keep from sliding. She stopped in front of the bathroom mirror, which went all the way down to the floor.

The resemblance to a regular cat was certainly there. But those ears were too big, and there was a strange red gemstone set right into her forehead, where a horn ought to be.

Curious, Twilight tried to concentrate, summoning a generalized counterspell that should undo whatever she’d gotten herself into.

There was a response, a strange building of pressure behind her eyes—then the mirror shattered. She stumbled backward as though by a reactionary force, sliding along the crystal floor until she came to an undignified stop against the far wall.

Twilight looked around, staring down at one pink paw. The spell had done something, but not what it should have. She sighed, then rose, shaking off a few stray shards of glass before turning to the bedroom door.

Sound came from the other side, something metal and some nervous tapping. Was she imagining it, or could she feel the guards on the other side of that door, whispering nervously to each other that somepony ought to check on the princess? Then one tapped on the door again, and his words were a strange double-echo in her mind. “Princess, is everything alright? Did something break?”

She hurried closer to the door, her tail whipping about behind her angrily to keep her precarious balance. She raised her voice as loud as she could, knowing that in her tiny body she would need all the volume she could get. “I’m not fine, actually! Could you please call Starlight Glimmer? Tell her to come straight here, never mind her counseling. And don’t tell anypony where she’s going?”

On the other side of the door, both her guards faced each other in utter bafflement. “What the buck is ‘Espeon’?” One of them asked.

“No idea,” the other one said. “But that didn’t sound much like the princess. Should we sound an alarm?”

“No!” she said, her voice becoming just a little nervous. “Please don’t do that! I don’t want this all over the Canterlot Gazette. Ponies were just barely starting to accept me as it is.”

Again they looked at each other. Twilight could taste their growing anxiety like an overripe fruit getting riper by the second. “Bring the dragon, he’ll know what to do.”

“Good idea.” One of the guards took off running. The other moved in front of the door, facing towards it with his spear pointed at the wood.

How do I know what they’re doing? Twilight wondered. But there was no answer forthcoming. Just a choice: she could sit here in the open and wait for Spike to find her, or she could act.

Twilight could’ve found somewhere to hide, maybe slipped past Spike when he arrived. But the balcony was open, and the sun shining in from outside felt positively wonderful against her coat. Twilight found the guard outside was suddenly less important. She could close her eyes, rest a moment. Nopony would mind.

Twilight’s world fuzzed, and the next thing she knew, she was stirring. Something was moving into her bedroom, something small and hard and nervous like a pasta with too much salt. She yawned, stretched, then sat up, and knew exactly where to look as he approached.

“Easy there, uh… whatever you are. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He stuck out both claws, holding them flat in a gesture of peace. Not that it mattered to Twilight—she wasn’t going to hurt him!

She remained where she was, sitting patiently as he approached. She resisted the urge to walk right up to him and inspect how he smelled. There was another scent on one of his legs, one she didn’t like. But that could wait. “Spike, I’m glad you’re here. I need you to go get Starlight Glimmer as quickly as you can. Tell her I’ve been transformed. Current symptoms are…” then she trailed off, finding a bit of dirt on one of her forelegs suddenly occupied her attention quite a lot. She licked herself clean, and didn’t speak again until she was finished. “Physical, magical, and psychological. I don’t have my horn anymore, so I can’t determine how deep into my pattern they go. I can be more detailed, but I’d rather explain them to Starlight when she gets here.”

Spike’s arms dropped, and his mouth fell open in utter astonishment. Twilight tasted his nervousness transform to a few spicy drops of shock, then gradually sweeten into realization. “I have… no idea what you just said,” he said, his fear washing away. “But that tone—you were just giving me a Twilight lecture.” He hurried past her, at least as much as the cold-blooded dragon could ever hurry. He hopped onto her bed, picking a few stray hairs from the sheets. He landed beside it a second later, his excitement building into something like cotton-candy. He was sure he was right, and his feelings made sure she knew that.

For once, Twilight didn’t mind. Her favorite assistant—her only assistant, but that was incidental—had learned more than just making lists from her. Analytical reasoning as well.

“Nopony got past the guards,” he went on. “Nopony saw Twilight leave. Could’ve teleported, but… now there’s a cat in her bedroom, trying to give me lectures.” He stopped right in front of her, grinning. “You’re Twilight, aren’t you?”

She nodded emphatically. Somehow—even though it felt like she was speaking—the sounds she made were no longer words. Too bad she didn’t have her magic anymore, or she could probably come up with a spell to fix that. “Obviously,” she said, as slowly as she could. Maybe saying it slowly would make herself more easily understood?

No, apparently. There was still no comprehension on Spike’s face. “Could you, uh… nod for me again? If you’re really Twilight, I mean. Just so I don’t go for help for something that the real Twilight wouldn’t let me forget for… months, at least.”

She nodded again, even slower than before. “I’m Twilight. Now please get Starlight Glimmer, and anypony else you think we could use. I’m not enjoying this at all.”

But that was a lie, and even as she said it, she turned away from him. Spike had left the doors open behind him, and past the nervous guards outside, there was a whole castle waiting for her. Bigger than it should be, certainly more dangerous than it should be. But she didn’t have her horn anymore, and nopony could talk to her. Presumably she wouldn’t be able to help reverse the process beyond a few physical samples for Starlight Glimmer or whoever to work with.

Twilight turned on Spike, and abruptly headed for the door. “I, uh… I’m not so sure you should be leaving!” he called, hurrying after her. “Don’t you want me to… right, I can’t. Letters, let’s see. Who can help?”

But Twilight didn’t stay to listen. Some part of her wanted to, but a much louder part wanted to explore. Twilight poked her head through the open doors, looking up at the guards outside. A swirling mess of different emotions and smells blended together inside them, ultimately resolving to surprise. She wasn’t what they were expecting. Which was just the time she needed.

Twilight might be smaller than she should be, but she could move fast when she wanted to. She slipped between their legs, twisting down a hallway before either of them could twitch. She heard shouts behind her, but she didn’t much care what they were saying. They weren’t Spike, and they weren’t Starlight come to cure her, so they didn’t matter.

There were so many wide spaces in this castle, heated by skylights into temperatures perfect for a nap. But she was hungry first of all, and that meant the kitchen. Twilight took the stairs in a few hops, lowering her body as another few guards ran by on the floor below. They didn’t yet know what they were looking for. There were only the four of them to search, and Twilight had such a large space to hide in.

She reached the kitchen doors, towering over her just like everything did. At her guess, she was perhaps a third the size of a pony—bigger than any cat she’d seen, but not quite the size she would’ve expected. She wouldn’t be reaching the handle with her mouth, or her paws, assuming either one had the dexterity to turn it.

Maybe I can just magic it open? She might not be a unicorn, but she had broken the mirror, hadn’t she? Twilight concentrated on the kitchen door—and the knob twisted. It didn’t feel the same—but what did it matter if the magic still worked? Twilight glanced once over her shoulder to see she hadn’t been followed, then slipped through into the kitchen, shutting the door quietly behind her.