The Stereotypical Necromancer

by JinxTJL

Chapter 63 - Begrudged Accord

In the vastly misinformed sagas of religious nattering such as the abhorrent Sun's Reverency, itself a hugely antiquated book of prayers and conflated misconceptions about the so-beloved Princess Celestia, there have been scant references to an expanded pantheon beyond the great Sun above. Of course, it is far from the only body amidst the high heavens. It's only logical to assume there may be corresponding Deities.

But why are Alicorns hailed as Goddesses at all? Religious paraphernalia spanning centuries of history has explicitly gone out of its way to denote Princess Celestia, the Holy Sun, as the one true genesis of Equine, and of Equus itself. She, the only living Alicorn in existence, represents so much as the source of all life. Of warmth itself. She is special. She is unique. She is divinity given form.

And now there are two of Them.

-Light Flow's Compendium, Chapter 4: The Imperfect Heavens

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When Light Flow woke up with his face planted snout-deep into the welcoming crook of his notebook about an hour ago, he'd only vaguely been able to remember the preceding moments of his long—seemingly long, judging by the faint scent of morning—slumber. A long... long stretch of time of just... writing. And writing. And writing.

Until he'd passed out. The logical progression of study, as he understood it.

He'd risen up from his exhaustive transcription with a groan, rolling his very sore shoulders and yawning as wide as his mouth could allow as he scooted out of his chair and turned his already wandering attention towards his kitchen nook.

An apple or two later, a glass of water, and he'd had a quick scan through the half-filled first volume of his work. It was kind of hard to make his bleary eyes actually focus on the thick walls of loopy horn writing, but he'd more or less forced himself to remember most of his disquisitive tribulation from the previous day.

He'd gotten... a lot of work done, though he'd chosen to give up on expanding the section on souls until he was more versed in his desired profession, which really freed up a ton of mental space for other topics. He'd written a bit more on Necromancy as a whole, some technical stuff about Flesh Manipulation, and a couple thousand lines of what began to feel more and more like a dramatic diary entry about Alicorns and Nightmare Moon.

He'd half expected to find a tear-stained entry about how wronged he felt that went on for fifty paragraphs.

He'd only found one or two, thankfully.

Regardless, it was a good day's work. So much of it was such a blur in his mind that he was sure to be surprised at the cogency of his work when he eventually returned to it, but that sort of came with the territory of writing.

As did the ache behind his eyes. Mana burnout. He felt like a zombie.

So, in the interest of not driving himself back into the hooves of insanity by mindlessly writing for another day and overtaxing his arcane system, he'd decided to get up and go out for the day. He had plenty to do about town, after all, and it wasn't like he had a secret doppelganger he could just order out to do it all for him.

Unfortunately. He wished he did. It'd be like having twice the productivity!

Twice the mania, too... It probably wasn't worth the complex it'd give him.

With half a smile on his face—because he was sure to put himself into an uncomfortable situation—he'd messed about with his mane and his fur in his bathroom mirror—he was a good-looking zombie, indeed—retrieved his surprisingly intact saddlebag from his bedroom dresser, and... spent a good minute or two examining the key to his new door.

He couldn't be all proactive. If he hadn't stopped to examine all its ridges and facets, he'd just get twitchy.

Locking the door behind him and taking a deep whiff of the sunny summer day as he did, it occurred to Light the potential repercussions of leaving his books on Necromancy on his desk beside the box that had Nightmare Moon's armor in it.

Just about as damning as it would've been to find him in attendance with the maniacal Goddess, he was guessing. In the wake of the recent insurrection, he wasn't sure any explanation would've satisfied for what he was hiding. Her armor? If anypony had seen Her, they'd seen it. He'd come home to a lynching.

But then, he'd just shaken his head as he wiggled the key under the flap of his bag. He'd gone so far as to lock the door, and who would ever break into someplace that looked so rundown? Illegal tomes on Black magic were probably the best thing anypony so vagabond would be hoping to find.

Nightmare Moon's armor... would be a little more incredulous—but the whole paranoid venture was only a hypothetical, anyway, so he'd not dwelled on it for very long. Literary tropes be damned. He'd be fiiiine.

He spent the short walk to Ponyville mostly ruminating, as he often did, but he did drag himself out of his own head a few times to at least try to appreciate the nature he was traversing. The rolling plains dotted with freckles of trees, the babbling stream he had to walk the breadth of until he came to the ratty stone bridge that forded it, not to mention the increasing uptick in general life around him.

Near the Everfree, things were just dead. In the closer periphery of Ponyville, though, there were critters and birds and the trees were actually brown! Oh, it was all so quaint and endearing. It'd been just a day or two since he'd sat by the river with Applejack, positively swaddled in the enchanting grasp of creation, but there was just... something about his new lease on life that made him actually care about whether he ever experienced things.

It was just so nice to feel so alive and warm after... yesterday.

Yesterday...

The thought had crept up on him then, though he'd done a remarkable job of not dwelling on his previous feelings. It was in the past, and at least he was starting to gain an inkling of why he'd been so cold. So... chilled to his bones. As long as he knew why, then he could avoid it. He'd not venture out on that branch again.

Those thoughts were still fresh in Light's head, as it had only been a few minutes ago that he'd had his stumble. He'd been near enough to Ponyville that his walk was soon to end, though as he'd crossed the bridge over the stream that made a boundary of Town Hall, he'd been rather rudely stopped.

Well, it was more like he stopped to gawk, as were quite a few other ponies—as he still was.

He'd never considered himself much of a crowd pony before, but when he'd seen the loose gaggle of wide-eyed bystanders standing around and staring Town Hall's way, he'd had a surprisingly difficult time convincing himself not to investigate. Such was his nature, he supposed; he was thoroughly entranced by outstanding details.

So he'd sidled in between two strangers, mentally commending himself for not making a point to stare at anypony's souls—though they were all right there—as he came to the front and saw for himself what all the big fuss was about.

And... that was about where he still was, because for the life of him, he really didn't know what to think about it.

Though there was only a small bunch of ponies watching from the outskirts like he was, there was a quantifiable gathering of ponies gathered around the fountain in front of Town Hall. A gathering in number, but more like a union in action; whichever ponies weren't sitting and proudly bobbing an assortment of painted signs and posters were marching around and waving them about. The lot of them were shouting something, too.

For sleepy old Ponyville, a rally was certainly out of the norm—if there was ever any organized gathering, there was a fair chance Pinkie Pie was involved, and that really just meant it was a party.

This was no party. Ironically enough, though, the first glimpse of one of the signs the ponies were presenting hit him with a very similar feeling to what parties instilled in him.

A cold, sinking uneasiness.

Half of the signs were white and yellow. The other half were blue, white, and red.

| The heavens aren't big enough! |

Big, bold wording underneath a startlingly vivid red prohibition circle overlaid on a scrawling of a crescent moon in the night sky. The other signs were large drawings of an emblazoned sun in a white sky, proud and unmarred.

It was obvious. Hate speech.

This was an anti-Luna rally.

As something approaching a very stark reality began to wane over him, Light found the shouted words—no, chants, growing clearer. Less... muffled, in a way. As though there had been cotton in his ears and he was only just taking it out.

He almost wished he could put it back in.

"Cast away the usurper Goddess!" "The heavens aren't big enough!" "Only one Princess!" "Sleep through the night!"

It was only a short while that Light stood amidst the quietly whispering crowd, barely even registering the hushed gossip of those who weren't brave enough to dissent. He felt... alone. Staring at the brazenly spread gathering of proudly like-minded ponies—watching the shimmer of a dozen or more souls hued violently red in the sunlight—he truly felt disconnected from the world around him.

Because he was not kin to those he stood among, nor was he to those preaching their personal gospel. It was even less than standing in the middle between two sides—it could hardly even be said to be muddled.

Who was to say how many ponies around him felt the same?

It wasn't as though he could read insurrection off their souls.

The air tasted stale and stagnant on Light's tongue as he took a deep breath, drawing himself back to the world from the depths of his mind. He felt... annoyed. Inwardly, he was conflicted, but outwardly, he was just annoyed.

It was an expression he wore well as a particularly loud whisper drew his attention to his right, where a mare with a startlingly familiar shade of cream-colored fur made his own fur stand on end for a moment before he realized her mane was some blended shade of red. Not curly pink-and-purple, thank the heavens.

His group neighbor was holding some kind of pamphlet in the crook of her hoof, her dubious gaze scanning the text she'd just been passed while her greenish-yellow soul hued insistently purple. Exasperation, or similar to it.

The brightly-colored paper readily caught his eye, and he made no small show of leaning over to try to read it over her shoulder. Unfortunately, he was not subtle, and he was forced to lean away as the earth pony mare turned to him, her expression strangely owlish as her greenish eyes met his.

Funny, he probably should've been the shocked one. Embarrassed, at least.

All the same, before he could get an unfelt apology out, the mare's gaze tracked down to the pamphlet she held, then back up to him. In a jerky motion, she shoved the paper into his chest with a stammer.

"Just- here. Take it," she blurted, and as he bewilderedly took it out of her grasp, she turned and shouldered past the pony to her other side, cantering away before he could even think to ask her what her problem was.

He barely caught sight of the single red rose on her flank before she was halfway across the plaza in the opposite direction, off on her way to... the looney bin, if he had to guess. Odd mare, but then again, this was Ponyville, proud home to Pinkie Pie. They had more than their fair share of freaks here. What was one more?

He didn't pay much mind to whatever the pony she'd shoved aside thought of the encounter, instead taking another glance at the ongoing upset of a crowd in front of him before his gaze fell to the pamphlet he held. He was immediately vindicated on his choice to call it a pamphlet; as he took it out of his hoof with an urge to the mana in his system, he found the paper could unfold rather eponymously in half.

He only had to read the front to know exactly what it was about and who had distributed it.

Ponyvillians unite!

Yesterday evening, the usurper princess, Nightmare Moon, was crowned as an officially recognized Diarch of Equestria. This means she commands the same authority as Her Holy Highness, Princess Sol Celestia.

Even if the rest of the world is fooled, we must stand together! We were all there at the Summer Sun Celebration when the usurper princess revealed herself in the Town Hall and proclaimed her ambition to rule Equestria forever in an eternal night! We were personally witness to her hateful presence!

It's unknown what foul lies she must have whispered to weasel her way into power alongside our radiant Sun, but rest assured, as long as we remain vigilant, Ponyville will remain a bastion of sanctity until the world is set right. We will not fall prey to what hides in the dark! The blasphemous, night-stalking villain that stole our Princess away is not welcome in our pantheon.

Join us in-

-and that was where Light Flow had to stop reading, because the propaganda was beginning to make his stomach rebel. There was the real rebellion everypony needed to be aware of. If they weren't careful, he'd go and throw up all over those protestors.

He folded the 'righteous' paraphernalia back in half with a snort, sneering down at it for a moment as he considered just tearing it in two. After a moment, his expression eased—barely—and he shook his head instead as he turned and unbuckled his saddlebag to toss the paper in. With any luck, it'd serve as an interesting anecdote.

Turning back to the chanting crowd, Light mused to himself that this was all just an interesting anecdote. There was no validity to this crowd's sanctimony. This... crowd, that he was sure now was less than twenty ponies strong. Almost half of them were old, and judging by the fur patterns, it was a few families of ponies.

What were they even trying to do? Picketing Town Hall wasn't going to do anything but tick the mayor off. Even if they went and stomped around Canterlot, they'd probably all get thrown in jail for disturbing the peace. Grassroot movements like these were destined to fail, because they were just an extremely disgruntled minority.

The sun would not move just because they made a fuss. If anything, they'd just get burnt.

Dumb mules.

Light stepped forward and broke from the group he'd uncaringly joined, trotting across the plaza and away from the diehards that were mostly all close to dying. He had better things to do than get all anxious about a movement that was destined to fail. Not that he was, he was just...

He just- he didn't- it wasn't like he-

...It just irked him to see ponies pretending like Nightmare Moon had affected them in some way. They didn't know... they knew nothing about Her, and they were dumb for pretending as though Her ascension to the throne was any kind of ruse. Didn't they realize they were insulting their precious Sun? Did they think Princess Celestia was so stupid—so easily taken in that She'd somehow just let impure intentions reign?! Like a chump?!

He was the only one with any right to talk about Nightmare Moon. The whole rest of the world could just button it until they all killed themselves, too.

Nopony knew better than he did. Nopony but him knew anything about Nightmare Moon.

And nopony knew anything about Luna.

He doubted even Her Sister did.

Dumb... stupid... muleish... freakin'... didn't deserve... they didn't even know... didn't even come to damned harm...

It was a good thing Light had long since mastered the art of navigating while brooding. His walk continued uninterrupted the rest of the way to his destination while he grumbled to himself, barely even looking where he was going in between casting his eyes up to the heavens in prayer that every stupid pony on the planet would choke on their own drool and burn in Tartarus. Sadly, his prayers went unanswered. As they always did.

Regardless, he'd mostly cooled down by the time he stood in the little grass park across the street from the library. He was very thankful that he'd had the wherewithal to stop where he had, because if he'd blindly bumped into the front door like he'd done a few times as a kid, he'd... well... it was obvious what he'd be.

Staring up at the boughs of the great tree that housed the library, sporting the odd peeking window and balcony... and telescope, he was actually kind of glad he'd had the chance to let out all his pent-up aggression, if even internally. It was helping his marginally clearer head come to a decision—one that he'd been kind of agonizing over ever since he'd remembered about Spike and Twilight yesterday.

Though, Light couldn't help but frown as his gaze fell to the inset door in the base of the tree.

Its... little stoop. Its cute little candle insignia in the middle of the top partition. The sign out front with the fancy golden lettering. The... black handles—oh, he couldn't hold it back anymore, he just hated Twilight so much.

She was such a pretentious jerk, and he really would've been best suited if he never saw her again! She was pompous, haughty, know-it-all, and unnecessarily mean! But—and this was the part he hated the most—she was living in his favorite building in Ponyville! If he ever wanted to check something out again, and he needed to, he...

Light's jaw tensed, grinding his teeth. He didn't know why, it wasn't as though he was saying it out loud, he just...

It hurt. He had to... make nice with Twilight. There, he'd admitted it. He had to waddle over, suck it up, and admit that he needed her help—just because she was the librarian. He didn't value her for anything else. He didn't care how studious and well-read she was, even though he would typically find that admirable. On Twilight, it just looked sardonic. She probably only read to keep up to date on how to one-up ponies.

She had a dumb manecut. She'd grown up with a silver spoon in her mouth. She was distractible and introverted. She needed her dragon brother... son to clean up after her to survive. She was unfairly protective of her dragon sonbrother, too. For no reason. Because, despite her outward appearances, she wasn't logical. She was illogical and dumb. Dumb dumb stupid dumb stupid purple mulehorse.

Okay, he was ready to go knock on the door.

He gathered himself with a breath, sweeping the reductive insults out of his headspace with a breezily pleasant hum as he stepped forward. His easygoing trot to the door took less time than he'd otherwise have liked to brace himself, but hey, that was life! Sometimes, going places just happened. Couldn't help it. Oh well!

He stopped short at the door's stoop, just under its shallow, protruding arch, taking a moment to examine the plain-looking note tacked to the door's top partition just aside from the candle insignia.

Library closed for reorganization.

Please come back tomorrow.

His hoof made solid contact with the door—once, twice, three times—while he made a concerted effort to roll his eyes. Yeah, like he'd let a notice from Twilight stop him. She'd tell him to leave anyway, so what difference did it make if he visited when it was closed? Until he made some kind of peace, the library was always going to be closed for him.

As he let his hoof rest, his ear perked to the faint sound of a voice from somewhere beyond the door. Wood didn't muffle things very well, unfortunately for... Twilight, yes, that was her voice. Then... masculine... Spike's voice... an affirmation. She'd told him to... get the door?

Light frowned. What, was she not good enough to get her own door? Though, it was also Spike's door. Hm. That might've been some interesting semantics that he didn't have time to contemplate because the door was opening.

Well, the top of the door swung in, anyway, and with the same situational impact as a crossbow bolt suddenly shot from its platform, two scaly... hands grasped the edge of the open door and pulled their owner up.

Emerald eyes. His eye flicked down—no, maintain eye contact. It was rude to look at souls while he spoke. Look Spike in his eyes, the emerald eyes above the mouth full of sharp teeth cut in a cute little grin. Focus on the conformation of his overlaid scales if need be—no matter how interesting his soul was.

By everything that was unholy was it interesting, though.

Light did his best to keep his eyes level with half a smile on his face as Spike, a real sight for sore eyes, wobbled slightly back on what he assumed was a stool. He steadied himself with a groan and one hand on the door, then, as he looked back up to Light, he let out a faint little gasp.

"Whoa." The little drake's instinctive exclamation seemed to embarrass him, as Light could see a... very faint green blush press against his scales as he brought a claw up to rub the back of his head, and he gave a wan little chuckle. "I mean... uh... whoa! Hey!" Whatever knee-jerk surprise he'd suffered bled away to warm familiarity as the dragon leaned forward with a smile, proffering a balled-up claw. "What's up, man? What brings you out here?"

The put-on tone of casual bravado in his voice... was very nostalgic for Light for a moment, so much so that he found himself lost for a response. He blinked, then again to get rid of the phantom sight of a blurry dirt path, finally managing to manage his voice.

"Um... Nothing... really," he wagered unsteadily, doing his best to also seem casual as he lifted his hoof to give Spike the bump he was looking for. The dragon's smile seemed to sparkle as he leaned back onto the doorframe, crossing his arms across it as Light... genuinely smiled back. "I'm... uh... I guess I'm... here to see Twilight."

Like poison on his tongue.

Seemingly at the mention of her name, a voice rose up from somewhere behind Spike. "Spike? Who's there?" As Spike turned over his shoulder with a frown—a disappointed frown he'd watched grow—Twilight's voice grew a little more muffled, as if she were moving away. "Is it another book delivery from Canterlot?"

Light opened his mouth, then shut it a moment later as Spike turned back to him with a blink. They stared at each other silently for a moment while Spike pursed his lips and cocked his head, then turned back into the library.

"Yeah, Twilight! I'll go ahead and sign for them and bring them in!" his friend shouted back to his guardian, and... aw. Light couldn't stop himself from murmuring in quiet affection as Spike turned back to him, rubbing a claw against the back of his head as his smile grew sheepish. Sheepish and some amount of guilty. What a good kid.

They shared another meaningful glance before Spike shook his head with a sigh, smiling back at him all the same as he beckoned over his shoulder. "Well, I guess... just come on in and... put 'em anywhere. Heh."

A better friend than he deserved. He deserved better.

...Bleh.

Light mumbled his thanks as the drake turned and hopped off his stool. There was the sound of subtle dragging before the bottom half of the door opened, revealing the mighty dragon in all his short, stout glory.

Even shorter than he'd remembered. No wonder the little drake could ride around on ponies when he barely came up to Light's chest. Light wasn't even all that tall. He... was a bit short himself.

He did his best not to match his obviously erstwhile friend's quiet sigh as he stepped forward, following Spike's silent beckoning as he stepped around the door and the dragon closed it behind them. Breathing in the comforting scent of must, Light cast a cursory glance around the library, and—woah.

Books were everywhere. More books than he was at all sure the library could hold, because there were still a bunch on the shelves while most of the actual space of the library was dominated by stacks of them. On the floor, wherever there were tables—though an odd little corner near the curved staircase held an oddly book-bereft wooden podium. Almost out of place in the middle of a small clearing immediately flanked by books.

With how they'd been clearly arranged to leave gaps and paths between them, it was like a maze. The reorganization must have been a lie, but only because he'd be more inclined to call this a reconstruction. Twilight must've been planning on shelving new material that... she was evidently receiving from Canterlot.

But what about the old Ponyville material? What about- why- but-

Light's mouth quirked up in a little grin as he scanned the disorganized annals, because he couldn't even keep the joke going in his head. He didn't care if new books were coming in, just so long as they were helpful and interesting. Books were books, no matter where they came from or what they were bound in. Inclusivity extended to all kinds of friends, even those ink-stained and paper-reamed.

Light turned to his flesh-and-scales friend, standing somewhat awkwardly in the shadow of the door. The poor little drake seemed... almost abashed, and he wasn't really looking at Light all that much. Just a glance here and there while his... appendages wore scuffs into the floor, and he kept his claw firmly bent to the back of his head.

It didn't seem right. Seeing him so evidently tense and edgy was making Light feel... guilty. Cold and anxious. The Spike he remembered was... carefree. Easygoing and outgoing. But... there had been a few times he'd seen the lizard clam up, weren't there?

When he'd been getting worried about Light.

Light turned fully to his dragon friend, inwardly debating with himself for as long as the floor could support his heavy gaze. After more mindless back-and-forth than he'd ever be comfortable admitting to, he found that little voice deep inside that told him to suck it up, and he was able to meet his friend's gaze just as he glanced up.

He barely had to read the clouded conflict in his eyes before Spike's gaze fell once more. "I'll, uh... go get Twilight, I guess," he murmured, and with that, the little dragon began to totter off. As he passed, his claw slipped down the back of his head, falling to his front just as Light turned to watch him walk away. A classic anxious tic. Applejack did weird things with her hooves when she got nervous, too.

Crap. This was his fault, at least tangentially. He had to do something—say something.

"Spike..." The dragon slowed to a halt when Light called his name, and to his friend's credit, he had a smile on his face when he turned to face him. It was fake and incredibly wiggly and anxious, but it was there, regardless. Spike was the kind of dragon to sweep right along past problems, it seemed. Something they had in common.

...No. He was trying to change.

Light cleared his throat, working the courage up as quickly as he could to alleviate his friend who was just about bouncing on his... claws. Hands. No—feet! He was sure of it, this time! And... this was the wrong time to pat himself on the back. Sad face. Low tone. Keep it dour enough that Spike would know he was serious.

"Do you... want to talk, later?" he murmured, thankfully just loudly enough that, judging by the way the corner of his smile dipped down, his friend definitely heard.

He watched Spike play with his claws for a moment, squeezing them together and picking at their ends until he shook his head. His unsteady smile returned. "Uh... nah, dude, it's fine." He raised one of his claws from the rest, poking it towards the ceiling with a wan chuckle. "We're cool! Everything's all good."

At that, Spike tried to turn back around to head upstairs, but Light found his voice raising again, stalling his friend where he stood. "I really... I really think we should talk about... what happened, at some point." His already uncertain cadence petered out, leaving Light feeling more and more like a loser as Spike, back turned, stood still.

For a few moments, Light thought he'd come off as too uncertain—too lame, and his friend was going to disregard him. There was undeniable tension in his shoulders, certainly, and he could see the subtle motions of his twiddling claws, but nothing else. Maybe he should've been more emphatic. Maybe...

But then, as Light returned to guessing at his own intentions, his friend gave an audible, yet still quiet, sniff.

"Yeah. Okay," was his only response before the little drake broke out into a wobbly run, swinging his arms jerkily back and forth as he swerved away from the center table, sidled through two walls of book stacks, and finally turned around the bend of the stairs to ascend their odd, gentle curve. He was gone in a moment, disappearing into the stairwell too quickly for Light to even catch a glimpse at his face.

But as he'd been seeing for the past minute or so, Spike's soul was showing how he felt very clearly.

Of course, given that his soul was a living, crackling ball of green fire, it was just a bit harder for Light to read.

He'd been idly fascinated by Spike's soul since he caught his first glimpse of it back when all his friends broke in on his awkward situation with Bon Bon, so finally getting to disregard his own morals and stare at it unabashedly was very intriguing. It had the same basic shape as a regular soul, but where a plain pony's soul was a perfect sphere comprised of lines of harsh light, Spike's was a much rougher sphere of pure, constrained flame.

It was wild and merry; a whorling little inferno sat in the dead center of his chest. It was like staring into a living blaze—some sort of captured pyre strung up and made to somehow coexist with the meagre frame that held it. It felt dangerous just to look at it, like it might leap forward and consume him at any moment. Thrilling.

Oh, how he wanted to... no, he didn't, because that was bad. It was enough just to look at it, and watch how it flickered and scattered embers and snapped as his mood changed. Like every other soul, its color changed to suit his mood, too, but it also just... did fire stuff! As he'd watched Spike grow sadder and sadder, the more the fire in his chest had condensed, shrinking and whirling faster as it collapsed in on itself.

Of course, he felt bad that his friend was sad, but he was also immensely thankful for the opportunity to watch his soul modulate. Were all dragon souls like that? Duh, of course. Dragons had their whole fire connotation, so of course it was just a dragon thing. It really just made him wonder how intrinsic their connection to fire must have been, then. Did fire come from their souls? Was it apart of them? To what extent did a soul match its owner? Was it to the superficial extent of their personality—or were his educated theories correct, and it more closely resembled their existence? Was light somehow the essence of equine? Was that equine's connotation? From a dragon's eyes, would ponies' souls seem as odd as theirs did to him? What were souls to them?

It was too bad he'd probably never meet another dragon to compare. Maybe if he-

Hoofsteps, just beginning to echo down the stairwell. Growing louder by the second as all Light's thoughts came screaming to a halt, and he was suddenly very aware of his tongue. In the jumbled chaos of the crash, all that was left in the flaming wreckage was one slightly bruised thought.

Here went a whole lot of nothing.

Though he desperately wanted to dance on his hooves to expend his nervous energy, Light managed to keep still, standing and fidgeting off to the side of the front door as the loudening sound of hoofsteps grew to a head.

Everything was fine. All he had to do was be angry. Argumentative. She wouldn't see his anxiety if he was snarking.

Light bit down on his lip and tried to keep an expression of casual antipathy as two descending purple hooves heralded a horn, bangs, and an unusually docile expression he'd not thought the well-groomed unicorn emerging from the curve of the stairwell was capable of.

Of course, as Twilight Sparkle was wont to do, as she slowed to a halt at the visible top of the stairs circling down to the floor, her purple eyes rose from her path and set on him—and a scowl quickly rolled over her face.

Funny. It was suddenly easier to look upset.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Twilight had completely stalled on the crest of the stairs, one hoof hovering in the air as she seemed to wander between setting it down or pointing it at him accusatorily. All the while, her put-off expression only grew moreso, darkening with silent vitriol as something warred behind her eyes, until an aggravated sigh loosed from her pursed lips as she shook her head.

"Spike should know better than to lie to me," she grumbled as her hoof finally fell to the next step, carrying her well into the next as she descended the rest of the way down, not even bothering to keep her eyes on him. She'd regret that one day. He'd make sure of it.

Watching Twilight daintily walk down the stairs, Light was immediately irked at her insinuation. "It's not like I told him to, you know." He blew out a disdainful snort, quirking an eyebrow at the bobbing side of the purple mare rounding the stairs' curve. "I told him I needed to see you, and he just did it. Was I supposed to stop him?"

As Twilight's hooves found the floor and she cantered towards him, her gait stalled for a half-step as something like confusion flickered across her face. But then she continued on, trotting past him as she spoke without so much as a glance back. "No, I suppose not, but I'm somewhat surprised you wouldn't try to cover for him."

He followed her with a bemused leer as the subtle sound of mana in the air accompanied Twilight swinging the front door open, peering forward at the sign still stuck to its front before she stole a small glare towards him. Finally, though it was difficult, he found a reasonable response in softly shrugging his shoulders.

"I don't... Why would I cover for him?" The door closed, and Twilight met his gaze with a stormy frown as he tried his very hardest not to reciprocate. "I've called him a kid, but he's not. He doesn't need me to cover for him."

The very thought was perplexing. Lying to enhance the appearance of others' morals was something foals and lawyers did. Not to mention it obviously wouldn't have been true. Twilight probably would've laughed in his face if he'd tried. Why would she even ask something so confounding? What an strange mare.

For a moment after his reply, and as he continued to balk at her implication, Twilight's resentful glare grew ever so slightly unreadable. Even her soul—hued even purpler as soon as she'd seen him—seemed to gain a rather inscrutable twinkle as she turned to face him. Just... something in the way it shone that he didn't quite recognize.

But it was only a moment, and Twilight soon shook her head as she began a forward trot. "Never mind," she muttered as she passed him. Light kept his attention solely on her as he turned to watch her approach a particularly dense grouping of books atop the library's central table. As her horn lit once more, she sent another glare back at him. "You know the library's closed, today. If it weren't for Spike, I'd have already sent you away."

Aggravation settled over his shoulders at her scornful tone, and he opened his mouth to reply... then shut it as a large, evidently daunting stack of some twenty books lifted into the air in a haze of sparkling purple mana, while Twilight only narrowed her gaze at him over her shoulder.

"Why do you need to see me?" she questioned as the hovering stack divided into two halves, and as they floated apart in midair, they split again, and again, and each individual book flew to a discreet, separate place in the room.

Without looking.

He... was barely able to lift ten or so books—and he had to really focus. Twilight could just...

Light swallowed back a rising tide of acid in his throat, making sure to blink twice to keep his eyes dry.

Life just wasn't fair.

With the growing pounding in his head and heart, Light found himself suddenly reticent to speak, working his jaw in a facsimile of speech as the briefly curious glint in Twilight's eyes dulled to exasperation.

She sighed, hanging her head and giving it a weary shake. "If you need time to find the words, then could you spend it handing me that stack of fourteen books at the end of the shelves?" she addressed him as she turned to trot through the rows of books to a corner where she'd flown a few, waving her hoof towards him as she stopped and sat in front of a wall of board-bound spines where he was fairly sure there should've been a window.

Light had to blink again at that, turning to lay his eyes on the faceless wall of book stacks that separated him from the other, equally faceless book stacks she was referencing, before he set his gaze back on the bossy unicorn with an incredulous huff. "Are you serious?"

Whatever inspection she'd already begun of whatever books she hadn't yet organized halted as she looked his way, holding two books in sparkling beds of purple mana on either side of her head as she frowned at him. She nodded towards the books she'd mentioned. "Please." Then she turned her attention back to her floating books.

Light had to... just for a moment... stop to just process the sheer rankling audacity of the mare to actually tell him he shouldn't be here in one breath, then use the next to ask a favor. Just... it left him well and truly shell-shocked for a long moment of breathless—am I really here, living this moment—incertitude. He genuinely had no idea whether he felt like spitting her way and slamming the door on his way out, or just...

He could only blink, shaking his head in time with the scratching record of his mind as he shrugged his shoulders once—twice—three times for the pure, indecisive motion of it. He opened his mouth. Then he shut it.

Then he sighed.

He hoped she didn't take satisfaction in hearing his hoofsteps as he trotted through the winding cliffs of books, griping her way in a testy tone as he did. "I think you meant 'hoofing me those books,' but whatever."

Light slowed to a halt in front of just a few of the numerous book stacks, counting each one with a grimace to find which one had fourteen, while he perked his ear to hear Twilight's response float across the room. "I asked if you wouldn't mind 'handing me that stack of fourteen books,' but I suppose you're right, regardless. I'm sorry."

He couldn't quite stop himself from levying a disgruntled leer over his shoulder, finding the stuck up unicorn profoundly engrossed in sorting a pile of books into smaller, separate piles. His grimace wormed its way into a vicious sneer. "And I'm sorry, I'm not sure I ever caught it—was yours the Element of Neurosis?"

He enjoyed a spiteful smile as he turned his attention back to the correct stack of books amidst... eight others, making a concerted judgement call as he split the stack in half to lift at the wobbly insistence of his horn. He turned with a grunt as the surprisingly heavy stack of just seven books lifted into the air to follow behind him.

Though Light's canter faltered in a moment of genuine surprise as he found Twilight halted in her own ministrations, staring his way with an oddly... furrowed expression. Not quite angry or disapproving, though the sheer face of her expression may have been, but he could almost swear her narrowed eyes showed a gleam of...

...hurt?

It didn't last long. Seemingly as soon as Light stepped once more towards her somewhat dazedly, she returned her attention forward. Her busy work continued, her critical eyes undoubtedly furiously scanning the titles and spines of each book she swapped out for a new one as he drew up to her side. Unfazed, she seemed.

As he lowered his head with a disappointed scoff to bring the books down to the floor, though, his ear happened to perk to just catch a quiet, barely voiced whisper.

"...I said I was sorry."

The inaudible, repentant murmur lit a flicker confusion somewhere within the pit of swirling abhorrence he'd earmarked for his perception of Twilight, made all the more disconcerting by the genuine flash of subdued blue that swept over her soul for a moment. A moment soon to pass, as by the time he raised up from laying the books down with a blink, it was gone.

A perfunctory moment of caution for Light also passed as the purple haze of Twilight's mana swept the books he'd carried over closer to her, bringing one, then another, up into the air as her side profile returned to a dull expression of efficiency. "Bring the rest, please," she intoned, already thoroughly redistracted by her sorting.

That was... weird. Weirder than he'd thought Twilight to be.

It was something he chose to consider as he turned to retrieve the other seven books. Implications best pondered idly, and best to idle with as mana churned through his abused veins to heft the other seven books up behind him.

It was... just a jab. Sure, he'd meant it, but had Twilight actually taken offense? She wasn't that touchy, was she? Wasn't she some bigwig, high-society type? Shouldn't she have been used to ponies being consistently horrible to her in every way?

A truly interesting anachronism. What had he misunderstood? Was it Twilight, his perception of her, or his perception of her stereotype? Was it him? Was it her? Did he have any answers, or was he just going to keep posing hypotheticals?

He worked his jaw, chewing on whichever mental thread he could catch between his teeth as he came up to Twilight's side once more, setting the other half of the stack where she could see it. She tugged them closer almost as soon as he'd set them down, thankfully missing making contact with his mana by a hair as she brought one of the new books up for inspection. Thankfully for her, anyway. He didn't care if she freaked out.

Light huffed in irritation, throwing his hoof up to make an unseen point. "You know, I do have something to talk to you about, unless you just want to run me around the room all day?" He made a sound not unlike a growl. "Not like I have better things to do than play fetch or anything."

He'd not hidden the frustration he felt brimming in the back of his throat, though Twilight didn't seem to take notice of it, only waving her own hoof back towards him. It was a great exercise in restraint for Light not to smack it. "You don't have to worry; I already know what you want to ask."

Light's frown deepened at that, though not in anger. It was highly unlikely she knew he'd come to ask for library access and help finding a beginner's textbook on Arcanicism. She wasn't so observant that she could guess completely unrelated facets. She wasn't Shadow Spade.

Still, because he found himself marginally interested in where she must've been going with her guess, he decided on the simplest response possible, if only to see her fall flat on her smarting face. "Okay."

It was silent for another few moments save the busy sound of purple mana flitting books about the air, while Light steadfastly refused any kind of fidgeting. He'd be patient—just because he wasn't the type to get impatient at such a short delay. He was perfectly capable of sitting still, Twilight. How rude of her to assume otherwise.

After a short—acceptably short—while of sorting, the divided piles before her dwindled to nonexistence, and Twilight set the last book to where she must've needed it with a sigh. She stood with a short, quiet hum, while Light stepped back to give her more space as she turned to lock her exhaustingly purple eyes with his.

Her gaze was narrow—expectant for her—though Light wasn't quite expecting the first words out of her mouth. "You think it's unfair that I forbade you to see Spike, don't you?"

It was almost an accusation for how deadpan her tone was, and for how tense the frayed lines of her expression were. Whatever she must've been thinking of him, it weighed heavily on her furrowed brow.

Well, it wasn't as though it was all sunshine and daisies in his head, either.

Though he felt an awful lot like he should capitalize on her mistake and rub his actual topic all over her muddy brown nose, he felt as much or more like he could capitalize on this opportunity. She'd given him an incredibly convenient in on a conversation he had no idea if he even should've broached. Or... how he felt.

Maybe he'd come to his own answer soon. Maybe he already had.

Either way, Light made a show of pretending to think very hard as he gave a little thought as to how he should respond. Rolling his eyes, tapping his hoof to his chin as he hemmed, he returned Twilight's unwavering glare with a quirked brow. "Well, I'm not going to say that I don't understand why you did—" Because he did, obviously. "—but... yeah, I do think it's a little unfair of you," he hedged, nodding after a moment of uncertainty.

He felt justified in saying that, though with the way Twilight's stony glare bored into him in the proceeding moments, he could've been unreasonably tricked into thinking otherwise. Regardless of the bead of anxious sweat he felt forthcoming, he made a point not to shy away from her faintly upsetting stare.

It was just... uncomfortably familiar, was all. Twilight wasn't the only pony who had a habit of just... staring.

Sorry—who'd had a habit. Hopefully.

Light's idle game of counting his teeth with his tongue ended abruptly as Twilight's scrutiny ended with a shake of her head, while her entire expression turned very evidently wan. "I suppose we have even more in common than is obvious," she murmured as her gaze tracked low, and—wait, what?

Light watched owlishly as Twilight took his moment of hesitance to step past him, barely brushing the side of his leg with her tail as she trotted across the room without a glance back. Because... because it was obvious, Light trailed after her, speaking up to catch her attention as he rounded the edge of the center table after her. "Um... what? Do you... are you just gonna leave that and walk off?"

She'd barely exited the book maze past the lip of the stairs when she turned back, placing her hoof onto its bottom step for what he guessed was emphasis as her dimly lit gaze fell to him. "Light, I want you to listen to me, please," she began quietly, carrying her intensity-laden forward as she stepped off the stairs and towards him, her frown growing wider. "You do not present the most laudable first impression."

His knee-jerk instinct was to open his mouth for rebuttal, but—well, he couldn't really find the words to argue with her. It was all he could do not to agree with her as he averted his gaze away, cautiously returning it as Twilight spoke again with another uncomfortably confident step towards him. "I'm not going to apologize for thinking badly of you, because, as it is, I was justified in doing so when last we spoke."

She shook her head slightly, not wavering in her stare. "At the time, you seemed to be some surreal actualization of my doubts in moving out here, and of what I feared may have befallen Spike." Was it him, or were her eyes literally glowing with certainty? "I can't regret doing what I felt was best to protect him."

Again, true, if a bit uncomfortably overstated. Most ponies that had spent five minutes with him usually walked away feeling discouraged and disgruntled. That didn't really mean she had to say it, though.

If Twilight was looking for some spectacular denial, he supposed he found some amount of joy in giving her a blankly expectant look, instead. It almost seemed to upset her for a moment, the spin of her soul slowing as its sheen gently greyed in time with her wavering brow.

It was only a flash, though, and Twilight quickly found her equilibrium again with a steady breath, raising her hoof to her chest as she did. As it had before, the motion lit a spark of interest in his rational mind, tugging at his perked ear as Twilight pressed her frown into a thin line.

"I... Still, Light, I think..." Whatever she was trying to say, it stalled as a lame murmur in her throat, bubbling back up in a frustrated grunt as she shook her head and dropped her hoof to the floor—hard enough that he was startled into taking a step backwards by the noise. She sighed, took a breath—and sighed again as she hung her head, then, much to his befuddlement, she turned around.

Four clops, a swish of her tail, and Twilight's head rose again. It was only then that her voice rose, stronger than he figured it should've been for a mare who'd elected not to look him in the eyes. "I was unfair. I..." Her voice petered out, then came in a rush. "I don't think it's right for me to forbid the two of you from seeing each other."

Oh.

Oh.

"Oh," he breathed, and just like that, a chuckle rolled from his chest. "Is that... is that right?" The short cough of a laugh beget another, and another bled into more, until a long, lilting stream of laughs rose from Light's throat. Twilight's shoulders stiffened at the obnoxious sound—while Light only laughed harder as her soul bashfully compressed into a pinkish hue and she turned to show a flushed, violet-faced pout. Get it? Her face is purple!

He had to fall onto his haunches to stay upright as the giddy sense of humorous irony spread from his chest up to... to his nose, or something! Something ridiculous! Just like her! And- and now, Twilight was blabbering at him! "Why are you... don't- don't laugh!" Light peeled a teary eye open in between giggles to see Twilight advance a step, scowling something fierce, and still keeping that lecturing tone. "Why are you laughing?!"

Why? Why, Twilight, that should've been obvious!

"Be-because," he wheezed before a particularly guttural snicker took him, barely managing to keep his head upright and his eyes open as he shakily raised a hoof to point right at Twilight's silly purple face. "You're- you, of all ponies—miss Element of Condemnation—are apologizing and eating crow!"

It was probably the funniest thing in the entire world. Or maybe just the least believable.

He was certain the sheer incongruity of his thoughts verses Twilight's reality was likely to kill him at this point, and although the irreverent palpitations of his irreverence made reality may have been the best he'd felt all day, he mostly managed to quell his laughter down to a series of leashed chuckles over a short minute or so.

Still chuckling, brushing a stray tear out of the corner of his eye, Light continued grinning at the mare continuing to frown self-consciously at him. "It's just—sorry, I guess... it's just really funny to me." He rolled his eyes humorously, grinning for the devil-may-care sake of it. "I guess I probably shouldn't be laughing, but hey—" He gave a loose shrug of his shoulders. "—it's the first good joke I've heard all day."

Now, that was evidently upsetting to Twilight. "It's not a joke, Light!" she half asserted, half just plain yelled as she took a brazen stomp towards him. Something sizzled—Twilight sucked in half of a breath as she took a step back, and Light's interest was oh-so-piqued. He leaned forward with a hum to see if she'd singed the floor, then back as the cautiously irate mare retook her step, still halfway on the brink of growling.

"I'm not joking," she spoke firmly, just a little less like a snarl. Only markedly, but he appreciated the effort, regardless. Or... maybe he didn't? He was momentarily overcome by his own inconsistent dissonance as Twilight sighed, seeming to take a great effort to reel her temper in as she turned, speaking again as she began a slow trot away from him. "I... the other day—the Summer Sun Celebration, I was..." Her train of thought stopped with a breath, then continued with a step. "I was... not thinking entirely clearly."

Oh? Was the mare finding her way to an epiphany? Light kind of felt as though he was just along for the ride.

Although... his eye fell for the briefest glance at the blackened soot mark that Twilight had hurriedly covered up with a hoof, and he felt a little like posing a question.

...Nah. Not right now.

He laid back on his hooves, content to lounge and watch as Twilight continued to slowly walk and talk in a low, anachronistic tone of reflection. "I was... the whole day, I was trying to ascertain whether Nightmare Moon was a real threat or if I was just... getting worked up over nothing." She took a deep breath, not quite deep enough to register as a sigh, while she meandered her way over to the book-bereft podium in the far corner of the room, her soul slowing in its motion all the way. "I could hardly stop thinking about it. I was... it was... very debilitating."

As much as he didn't really want to hear Twilight spill whatever guts were closest to the surface, he had to admit, he knew a thing or two about Nightmare Moon being debilitating. It was practically the story of his life thus far.

Light shifted on his rear, crossing one hoof over the other, then uncrossing them when he found it to be less comfortable; meanwhile, Twilight reached the side of her clearly seat-marked stand. Rounding its side, trailing a hoof across its face in a familiarly melancholic gesture, her wavering, doubt-riddled voice rose again as she took her place behind it. "To me, it just felt like-"

And then she stopped, eyes suddenly wide—then narrow as he realized they were on him. Laying back with only his hooves for support, Light gave Twilight his biggest, smarmiest smile. If it wouldn't make him fall over, he'd go so far as to wave.

As obviously luxuriant as he was, she only stared for a moment before disappointment fell over her face like a shamefully wet blanket. "Get off the floor."

Well, there was his cue, he supposed. It was sort of nice to act like an imbecile for a minute or two, but it was time to get up and engage.

...If Applejack were here, she'd raise her eyebrow and snark at him. 'Y'all been acting?' or something like that.

He missed her.

With his mood thoroughly killed by the cruelty of his own mind, Light pushed himself forward with a groan, then onto his hooves with a grunt. He shook out his pelt with a shiver, brushed a hoof across his barrel, then promptly turned to Twilight and gestured towards her with as much fake, overplayed grandeur as he could muster. "Do go on, Lady Twilight."

He couldn't—and wouldn't hide his smug smile as Twilight's glare eased for the briefest moment, then immediately fell to a disgusted grimace at his invocation of her apparent title. It almost seemed as though she wanted to say something for a second—and how he would have loved to poke more fun at her—but to his disappointment, it only took a double-take and a shake of her head before she continued right along, placing her hoof sternly to the top of her wooden stand. Lectern?

"If you're done antagonizing me-" She actually waited for a moment, glaring pointedly until he finally gave her the least amicable nod possible. She nodded back, though just about as pleasantly. "-then I will go on." She sniffed disdainfully. "I suppose my reasons don't matter insofar as my conclusion, though I can't say I came to the decision on my own."

Twilight paused for a moment, flicking an eye down; Light, taking two curious steps forward, caught the edge of a startlingly familiar-colored paper sat front and center on Twilight's lectern. Podium? Either way, and despite his semantic interest, her distraction ended after only a cursory moment, and she continued with a short clearing of her throat. "I talked to Fluttershy and Rarity about it yesterday evening."

She nodded, seeming oddly—for her—contented for a moment as something approaching a smile crossed her softly crease-marked face. "It was a very enlightening conversation."

Her soul was growing brighter. A smile—an actual, wide smile replaced the space normally reserved for her frown as her second hoof rested atop the podium, while she laid the first over her chest. "They helped me to see... well, they provided... extra dimensions to the situation that... I hadn't given due consideration."

Her voice... warm and gentle like he'd never heard it, lowered into a soft murmur as she tilted her chin down, lashes fluttering as she continued just... smiling. "I find myself truly grateful for their insight. Their advice was invaluable."

Light blinked. Was that..? Had he seen..?

No. Her soul was just glowing gold with gratitude, that was all. Just... for a moment, he could've sworn there was something else there, too. Something out of place that... he was beginning to see as a pattern.

He was probably just seeing things as a byproduct of the situational shock he was undergoing. Truthfully, he kinda felt... crampy all over, watching Twilight speak and act like a normal, well-adjusted pony. It was weird. He'd only ever seen her angry, apathetic, or haughty. They hadn't spent all that much time together, but he'd gotten the distinct feeling that Twilight was just that. That and little more.

Was that... prejudiced of him? Was it even correct? He wasn't actually sure if he was kidding with himself or not.

He wasn't feeling so much out of his depth as he was stuck at the bottom of the ocean, gasping for breath and unsure of how he'd gone from mutual antagonism with his farcical nemesis to spectating an emotional breakthrough. For the moment, Light resolved to simply press his lips together and sit still.

That seemed least likely to incur more holdups.

None too soon, as only a moment later, Twilight looked up from her reverie with her smile still in full-force. It... dimmed a little as soon as her eyes landed on him, and, oddly enough, it lowered further into an unexpectedly remorseful frown as her gaze dropped back down.

When she spoke, the warmth of reminiscence was gone, replaced by a nervous, uncertain waver. "I... thought about asking Applejack what she thought, but I was..." His marefriend's name lit hot fireworks in his brain as Twilight sighed, shaking her head as she averted her gaze entirely. "...I was worried she'd... judge me."

Light opened his mouth—and Twilight cut him off, shaking her head again as she met his gaze with an insistently melancholic frown. "I know you two are... close, and I know she and I are friends, as well, it's just..." She trailed off, though Light wisely held his tongue as after a moment of indecision, she averted her gaze again.

"I'm having a difficult time relating to her," she mumbled, the tiniest note of shame edging into her clipped tone.

Huh. He... wasn't having a difficult time relating to Twilight, which... grossed him out.

There was an obvious reason she was talking to him about this, though—and the small, uncertain glance she stole of him before obviously looking away again sealed his impression of the moment. If this was something on her mind, and if there was anypony to talk to about a problem with Applejack, Twilight was astute enough to know he was the one to come to.

That kind of warmed his cold, blackened heart. He was savvy with Applejack. He could ride the rollercoaster of stereotyping whiplash and surprising acuity known as his marefriend very well—or, well, he could ride it well enough not to fall off. Most of the time. He... he'd talked her into going out with him, at least. Eventually.

He knew enough to give advice to a novice, anyway. If this was the extent of the tangent they'd gone on, then buck it. Best to jump in and do his best to get Twilight emotionally indebted to him. Screw being concerted.

"Twilight," he began with a sigh, stepping towards her with a cursory glance upwards to think. "Applejack is... whether or not she'd judge you..." Taking another step to place a hoof on the edge of Twilight's podium just aside hers, he breezily dropped his gaze to the uncertain unicorn with a huff. "Okay, she'd judge you about what you eat for breakfast, and what you like to do in your free time, yeah, but about the big stuff?"

He stopped, shutting his mouth with a thoughtful 'clack' and a hum as a stray memory, barely faded, flitted by. His deepest sin. Quiet shock. Growing regret. Timid vulnerability.

Understanding. Empathy. Pity.

Love. Resplendent, reciprocated love.

Light shook his head, the clinging wisps of a great day recently passed falling away as he met Twilight's uncertain gaze with a smile. A soft, unbidden smile. "If it's... really important to you—if you make it clear that it means something to you," he continued quietly, closing his eyes and stopping with a breath that felt fresh in his throat, then letting it out with a sweet sigh.

"...No, she wouldn't judge you." He cocked his head softly to the side, opening his eyes to lid with what he felt as common, emphatic kindness. "You should trust her. She wouldn't ever do anything to betray it."

He... wasn't sure what had come over him so suddenly. It wasn't... Twilight, barely two hoof-lengths away and staring back at him with her heart clearly bared in her gaze. It wasn't her.

It was... Applejack. Just thinking about her. Talking about her out loud, and going so far as to... in his own words, really admit how she made him feel.

She made him feel vulnerable. Scared and confused. So... open and afraid. So subject to pain.

If that was what it took for the upside... the care... the security... knowing that she held his heart in her hoof, and trusting her to hold it close to hers...

He supposed... he'd not really been seeing Twilight.

Which made it all the more jarring as her hoof—her purple, dainty hoof—laid atop the one he'd rested in front of her. Something like loss caught in his throat as the moment bled away, his smile fading in a flash even as Twilight kept the one she'd grown at some point, tilting her own head in obvious fondness as he raised his out of a cloud of warmth.

She spoke, her voice tender and grateful even as it strained with tepid uncertainty. "Okay. I... will. Thank you, Light."

No. This was... wrong. It wasn't right. He wanted... no, he needed...

He had to force a normal—ever brittle—expression of ease onto his face, though he couldn't stop himself from jerking his hoof away from the mare's touch. What must she have seen on his face? How had he looked at her?

It was probably fine. The glint in her eye—it was only gratitude. He knew enough about Twilight to know she would've bent his leg right over his shoulder if he'd looked at her any kind of... way. She was a mare of strict, if questionable, principles. Their antagonistic relationship was well preserved.

He just needed to see Applejack. Soon. Today, if she didn't mind.

Light coughed into a hoof as he turned from the mare, hoping to play his hesitance off as simple embarrassment. "W-Well, it's really as easy as just talking to her. Applejack is... plenty easy to get along with, trust me."

Twilight's expression had fallen into a curious frown by the time he'd taken a few steps to turn back to her, but Light smiled anyway! "You've got about as low a chance of crawling out of the pits of Tartarus with all your skin as you do of actually upsetting Applejack. She's real forgiving."

His forced laugh was more like a choke to accompany jerkily scratching his hoof into his mane, but Twilight's frown eased into a weary smile, all the same. "That's... a rather grim metaphor." At that, Twilight stood from her stand, keeping a hoof on her chest as she cocked her head to the side. "I'd ask if you often made a habit of the macabre, but—" She pointedly nodded her head towards him. "—I think your cutie mark is clear enough proof."

Light stalled on another squawking laugh as he stole a glance as far back as he could, barely catching the edge of the grimoire-supported pony skull on his flank. Yeah... there were a lot of reasons he usually wore a cloak. Once, when he'd gone into town without it, he'd made a little filly cry.

From looking at his cutie mark, he meant. He'd not purposefully gone around making foals cry since he was one.

Though he was cloakless and therefore shameful, he wore a wan smile as he turned back to Twilight, possessing a suitably modest smile of her own. "Yeah..." he eased out, rolling his eyes as he mimed his own thoughts aloud. "I'm not really big on other ponies, and—fair's fair—they're not really all that keen on hanging around the colt who just looks like he likes dead things."

The laugh he gave at that—that was real, and... oddly enough, he would've been a little put-off if Twilight's reciprocal chuckle hadn't been. Weird. He still hated her, right? He needed to check on that.

He felt a sudden amount of uneasiness prickling on his neck, as though there were something lurking—unseen in the back of his mind. He didn't have time to go chasing after it, though; not a moment after Twilight laughed at what could have reasonably been called a joke at his own expense, her head began to lower in time with her closing eyes.

The atmosphere of the library felt... a little colder, then, as Twilight leaned into the hoof on her chest with a deep breath. She raised her head as she inhaled, then set it level with an exhale. Inside her chest, before his cautiously narrowing eyes, her soul began to slow. Its pulse found a rhythm. Even-tempered and paced.

When Twilight opened her eyes, a dull sheen covering their depths like a film, that niggling sensation of worry in the back of his mind grew.

When she spoke, her voice was even. Sonorous, if the word could mean boring. "...It was Rarity's suggestion that I try to relate to you on an emotional level, actually." She blinked once as the last few words joined the rest in a reasonably toned drone. Not quite... no, not emotionless, just... to the point. Matter of fact.

It was only then that it occurred to him how odd it was to hear her regular manner of speaking after their emotional dialogue. After... hearing her emote.

Light swallowed, forcing the rising feeling of danger down to respond. "I'm... Is... that right..?" His voice sounded weak—and it warranted a quirked eyebrow from Twilight—though he wasn't quite sure why. Why... did it feel so uncanny to hear Twilight... just speaking as she genuinely had been for most of the time that he'd been here?

Maybe he'd just not realized how strange she was. Aside from her sarcastic fits of anger, she didn't really... speak. She stated things. As though her thoughts were facts and he represented a rapt audience of dissertative candidates. Twilight lectured.

He was realizing now, and as she turned after a moment of thought, he could hear it in her voice. "Yes. She said that, although you're generally unpleasant, you're relatively kind." She trotted up to a shuttered window a bit behind her podium as she spoke, turning to look over her shoulder as she lit her horn to roll it open. "Fluttershy seemed to agree as well, though, regardless of her expertise, I'm less sure of her familiarity."

He had to squint a bit into the sudden onset of noontime light cast into the room, though he kept a close bead on Twilight through the harsh dapple of light. Still staring at him, she turned to return to her stand, while Light... just shook his head.

He took a breath—then committed to four in rapid succession. Maybe a bit too quick, but as words tumbled out after them, he was suddenly glad for the air as he repeatedly choked on a rush of confusion. "I'm sorry... I just—are you saying... were you—was that whole conversation just an act?"

Settling back to her stand, Twilight looked at him curiously as he continued to work himself up. A blankly considerate expression, as though she'd just been posed a math question. "No, of course not. My feelings were all genuine, and I expressed myself to the extent that I felt was best."

Then she frowned. But was it even real? "If it seems facetious of me to return to an equilibrium, then I'm sorry."

What came out of Light's mouth may very well have been a scoff—or it could've been the sound of air getting stuck exactly in his craw. Whatever it was, he felt it prudent to fall onto his haunches and muffle the noise into his hooves. He didn't care about how Twilight was looking at him—he just—he didn't—what even was he supposed to say?!

He... knew one thing for sure. Out of the... maybe five ponies of any value in his life—headstrong, honest Applejack; vain, empathetic Rarity; excitable, obnoxious Pinkie Pie; etcetera—Twilight was her own kind of pony.

Odd, apathetic Twilight. Prone to anger, easily frustrated, yet immaculately calm at her best. Such that she seemed toneless, if just ever so slightly neurotic. A paradox, but that was very equine. Funny, given her intellectual presence. He only wondered how much she understood of herself?

...Not like he understood all that much.

Light dropped his hooves from his face, dragging them down and smacking his lips as they hit the floor, choosing to adopt a glare to meet Twilight's furrowed stare. "You know," he began tersely, drawing a dry frown from Twilight as he waved his hooves about his head in frustration. "-I don't get you. How you... act."

Whatever he was hoping to accomplish by calling Twilight out on her existence, he was sorely disappointed as she only stared at him for a moment, eventually sending a glance up with a tired sigh as she lolled her head slightly back. "For as much as I logically understand about you, Light, I'm afraid you're a mystery to me, too."

Light spat out a frustrated sigh to match Twilight's, rising to his hooves and fighting the urge to clop one to his face again. "Yeah, fine, whatever. Thanks for the 'enlightening conversation,'" he growled, stepping forward to... do something that he had even less of an idea of as he trotted up to Twilight's stand. His eye was once more caught by the conspicuous paper laying atop it, the implication of which extracted a snort out of him.

He placed his hoof to the edge of the wooden stand again, pointing down and drawing Twilight's attention to the duplicate pamphlet he'd received not two hours ago. "How about this?" Twilight glanced up at him and quirked an eyebrow. Light groaned in response, tapping his hoof to the stand impatiently. "If we're ever gonna get to know anything about each other, then let's start with this."

He lit his horn—still a bit of an ache in his bones—to raise the pamphlet, Twilight's gaze following the haze of red to eye level. "What do you think about this whole Luna denouncement the freaks at Town Hall are on about?"

He waved it into her face while her eyes kept firmly trained on it, then slid down to him, back up to the paper, then back to him. Her frown... thinned as her eyes narrowed ever so slightly; despite whatever likely impossible conclusion about him she was reaching, she lit her horn and...

She squinted at the paper—no... she was squinting... at something? The glimmering sparks of light barely beginning to come to life from her horn died away as she glanced down at him, and raised her hoof, instead. She tapped its hard edge to her stand twice, keeping steady eye contact with him. Her soul pulsed with certainty.

Huh. Did she..? No, she... What had she noticed about his mana? What... was there to notice about his mana?

The foundation of frustration he'd built in his chest didn't collapse, but Twilight's casual avoidance of his attempt to disconcert her... was disconcerting him. Was that a chill running its sharp claws along his spine, or was her demeanor just making him cold?

If ever he'd wished he could see into other ponies' heads... now would be such a convenient time!

Either way, there was no use in waving the paper about anymore. He set it down where Twilight indicated with a suitably put-out grumble—and only as his mana faded to sweet nonexistence did Twilight's begin to shine, and the paper raised in a cautious grasp of purple mana.

"I'll be honest," she began as she raised the paper to just below her chin and unfolded it, scanning its contents rather busily. "-I didn't have the pleasure of seeing the so-called freaks." She glanced up from the paper with a frown. "Not that it's very warranted to label them as such." At his groan, Twilight continued reading, her voice falling to a distracted mumble. "It was actually Spike that brought this to my attention. He returned from the post office this morning in quite a fuss, more than eager to strike up a conversation about the movement."

Her sentence ended with an abrupt, sharp point as she folded the paper back up with a snap of her mana. With her eyes closed to think, it truly seemed as though the veins in her forehead might've been about to finally just pop out, but her gaze was, as always, perfectly dull as she opened her eyes to catch him in a stare.

"I don't have anything to say," was her curt response, punctuated by a prompt press of the paper back onto her stand's top. And... that was it. She glanced up as he stared expectantly back at her, seemingly becoming rather occupied by scrutinizing the room as a whole.

Light, meanwhile, could only mouth the words in silent disbelief. "You don't have anything to say?" he repeated after a moment, and Twilight just... looked at him. Lowly, with narrowed eyes, she took a good, hard look at him.

"No," she stated quietly, then she shook her head. "I have thoughts, and I could share them, but I don't think there'd be any reason to." She took a breath, raising her gaze from him and setting it on the ceiling with a hum. After a moment of silence in which Light didn't know how to respond, Twilight closed her eyes.

"It's not a topic worth discussing," she murmured, and... that was... that was really that.

It was kind of incredulous how, in the barest flash of realization, he could so clearly see—and know how Twilight's soul manifested her emotions. In that moment, and as she'd spoken, it was slow, calm, and even-tempered. Its movement was as serene as he'd ever seen from a soul; he'd thought... that was as much as it showed.

But the lines were wavering. Even as its outward face showed grace, its depths trembled in uncertainty.

And... Light... against his every mental instinct, he found he... didn't want to push it.

The thought made his throat feel tight.

So he dropped it.

He turned, hiding a trembling jaw and more than a little melancholy with a put-on scoff. "That's... whatever. Fine," he forced out, gritting his teeth against the tug of angst that pulled at his lip. He didn't feel anything for Twilight. Who cared about a pony whose basest essence was pride to the extent of self-destruction? He didn't care if she hid her emotions behind a veil of apathy—even at a spiritual level.

There was no point. He knew that. He'd... been shown that.

Cloudy cyan eyes. A hollow voice. Tears drowned out by black fur.

Light shook his head—twice. Hard. When would these stagnant delusions of a madmare long gone cease?! He was sick of... relapsing! She was gone. Her persona had been denounced. Nopony would ever remember Her as anything more than the lunatic that had delayed the sun for a few hours. She was a joke.

She was out of his life, and She needed to get out of his head.

His next breath was hot—hateful, but... not at anypony but himself. The next after that was cooler, and he raised his hoof to his chest to feel it compress. The next was cooler, and then it was cold.

In and out. Just breathe.

"Twilight," he murmured, then forced himself to speak louder as he turned back to the mare, placing his hoof down and meeting her curious gaze with a certain gaze. "There's... you know—" He bit off a word in a grumble, shaking his head with a grimace before he sighed, frowning as he returned to her raised eyebrow. "—you were actually wrong about why I came to speak with you. It wasn't to argue about seeing Spike."

The admission drew a quiet glimmer of confusion from those indecipherable purple depths, though it was quickly smothered by guarded curiosity as the mare placed a hoof to her stand as a pivot to slide out of her seat. "I'm sorry for presuming, then," she spoke, outright admitting to her own fallacy as easily as she took a step to face up to him with a tilt to her head.

"I'm sure you'll forgive me considering I've gone back on my earlier prohibition, but regardless—" She raised a hoof, gesturing that he go on. "—what would you like to ask?"

Light's stride was broken for a second at her incessant use of large words in spoken dialogue, but then, he wasn't much to talk—using the word incessant like that. He shook it off quickly, though it took him a moment to think on what, exactly, he wanted to say, tapping his hoof thoughtfully to his chin as he did.

...Well, he actually already knew, he just...

...didn't really like the prospect of actually asking for help.

It was a bit concerning to realize, judging by the narrowed leer Twilight was giving him, that the sourness he was tasting in the back of his throat had translated to his expression. He forced his lips to unpucker with a pop, biting his bottom lip and gnawing on it for a moment before, with a sigh, he finally just jerked his head away.

"I... need a favor, Twilight," he ground out, abjectly fighting the flush that he knew he felt forthcoming. Oh, how ill this medicine tasted, truly. Like ammonia mixed with grape juice. Or maybe just flat grape juice. He wished Twilight would just stab him or something—or that he could just stab himself. He'd much rather bleed to death than stand there in the silence, just waiting for whatever smarmy thing the know-it-all unicorn would likely shove down his windpipe. He was just waiting... and hoping it wouldn't be too condescending...

"Okay. What is it?"

Light whipped his gaze back to Twilight's continually blank expression, still just... she was really fond of just staring, wasn't she? "Buh- uh- huh?" he stammered out stupidly—now she looked unamused—though he quickly found his tongue as he shook his head fervently. "That's- that's it? You're not... going to lord that over me?!"

Twilight frowned—more of a wince, really, as she recoiled a step back from his... oh, he'd accidentally shouted that, hadn't he? "What? No! Why would I... lord anything over you?" she questioned—more like protested, actually, laying her ears flat in dismay. Huh. For a moment, she actually sounded alive.

Light remained open-mouthed and dumbstruck for a moment as, once again, he'd sorely misunderstood the mare before him. He really didn't understand anything about her. Was she haughty? Was she well adjusted? Was she apathetic? Did she actually have feelings? Had he hurt them somehow?

Maybe... for once, he was the one in the wrong.

...snrk.

Well, he'd better apologize or something. Had to ask that favor, after all.

Light did his best to swallow his saliva and seem suitably abashed, rubbing his hoof to the side of his neck with his gaze averted. "I... um... I guess that was... rude of me." He chanced a glance back to Twilight, finding the mare wearing a wary expression with her hoof to her chest, so he shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry."

At his apology, Twilight's wariness fell to a slightly grave frown. Aw, she must've seen through his apology. That was fine. He hadn't tried too hard to make it sincere. It would've just looked bad for her if she'd bought it.

Her hoof fell to the floor as she shook her head with a weighty sigh. "Just... ask your favor, Light." She raised her gaze to him under the lids of her eyes, nearly glaring as her voice turned testy. "You should be thankful that I feel indebted to you for your affirmation concerning Applejack, because you've insulted me to my face multiple times."

Oh, yeah, like he was the only one slinging insults around here. Did she even realize she was doing it?

Light sighed to match his nemesis—yes, his nemesis—and raised his hoof in a much more irreverent shrug. "Fine! Tartarus below, I'm just—" He grit his teeth, forcing the words out through his simmering anger. "I need... a book, alright?" He stomped his hoof to the floor. "I need a beginner's level tome on either Arcanicism or general magic."

He rolled his eyes, not even bothering to look at the unicorn as he turned to face towards the front door. "Freakin'... I'm sorry for being such a mule, but I need to learn more about magic, okay? I'm..." He stumbled on a breath, inhaling deeply with the rise of his shoulders and settling with a heated exhale. "I'm not... the most worldly pony when it comes to... magic, and I want to... I need to learn more, so just..."

He shut his eyes. Why was it getting so hard to speak? His chest needed to stop tightening. "Just... help me with this, and you can... you never have to actually talk to me again, alright?" He opened his moistening eyes, whirling around to face the silent mare with a snarl. "Is that good enough for-"

He stopped short, and a moment later, it occurred to him that it was lucky he'd not bitten through his tongue.

He hadn't heard her move, and until he'd turned to face her, it seemed as if he'd also blocked out the sparkling sound of her mana holding a thickly-bound hardcover book in the air beside her. Even through his frustrated welling, he could clearly see the neatly spaced grey lettering on its faceless, brown-colored front.

Making Sense of Magic
A Theoretical Guide Concerning Arcanicism

"You know, Light," Twilight spoke, drawing his disbelieving attention down to her and her frown. It was even, though. Not angry, just... resting. "-you don't have to suck up to me to check a book out of the library." Her frown deepened, almost... offended. "I wouldn't deny anypony access to a book based on a personal grudge. That's unconscionable."

Light blinked, once, then twice, before gently reaching a hoof out towards the book floating in the air. Before he could snatch it, Twilight eased it back, seeming abashed for a split second as she averted her gaze, then ashamed as it fell to the floor. "I don't... I don't hate you, Light." Her already uncertain tone skipped a beat, lowering into lilting melancholy as the book floated closer to her, almost comfortingly. "You're... hard to get along with, and hard to understand, and you don't make it easy, but..."

She let out a single, long stream of breath, and raised her gaze to him. The shimmering sound of mana grew louder as she pushed the book insistently towards him. She did not hold her hoof to her chest.

"You're not... Despite what you could've done, I don't think you're... a bad pony."

It was difficult to properly quantify how Light felt, just then. In one sense, he was angry that Twilight had let him go on and on with the self-deprecation despite her full intention of lending him the book, anyway. In another, he felt the logical little spark of happiness that he was getting what he wanted. A large part of him felt endeared to the unicorn he'd already spent more time with than he'd ever wanted. A small part still wanted to carve out her heart and wear it as a beating necklace.

Large and then small. A weird tossup for him. It was just getting to be very hard to ignore all the ways that he and Twilight were similar, and he couldn't just believe his conflated ideas about her forever. For all that he'd thought her to be haughty and self-serving, she'd mostly just been... kind of oblivious. Smart, but otherwise overwhelmingly oblivious.

He understood, though. She had a temper and deep insecurities, so she wore intellectual prowess and keen insight as a mask to suppress how she felt.

That was relatable to the kind of tragic mystique he'd always wanted but failed to endeavor to maintain. Unfortunately, he was just oblivious. His crappy attitude just hid more crap.

It was harder than he'd thought it would be to blink his seeming ever-present tears away, and easier to maintain a small smile and a grateful glance to Twilight before he reached forward again to take the book from her. He'd be nice, because she was being nice, and not freak her out by making mana contact.

...Except, as he reached for the book with a beckoning hoof, it floated back away again, and his hoof was left hanging lamely in the air like a wet sock. His grateful expression died, and was resurrected as a shambling scowl.

He was going back to his first impression. Twilight was terrible and he hated her.

The awful, book-teasing mare leaned back with a thoughtful expression, levitating the book into her open arms and clutching it to her chest as she leered at him—Tartarus below, if she was about to heap more prose about how she only tolerated him, he was going to blow every gasket in his body.

As Light simmered—seriously considering reaching in and taking the book along with her boring purple soul—the mare's gaze fell to the book, then rose to him. A gaze full of intense scrutiny, calculating and plotting in the visible motion of her wandering pupils.

"...You want to learn about Arcanicism?" she slowly ventured after... longer than he could really tolerate. Light nodded—yes, dummy, that was what he said. At his response, she pressed her lips together, lowering her gaze once more. "What about Arcanicism?" she pressed, sliding her hoof gently across the book's immaculate covering.

Light balked for a moment, wondering where on Equus she was going before he blinked, and gradually eased out each of the best words that found their way onto his tongue. "I guess... I want to learn about... the existence of mana, the... properties... spellcasting procedure... spellcrafting theory... arcane anatomy... um... lattices..."

He trailed off, resisting the urge to tap his chin thoughtfully as he instead shrugged. "Just... stuff. Whatever I can get my hooves on, I guess."

He'd not given it much in-depth thought. He needed... all kinds of info. What use was there in discriminating? There was no useless information. Probably. He really would take anything he could get.

Twilight listened intently to his spiel, nodding slightly as her hooves continued to trace the book's binding. As he tapered off, her expression grew more thoughtful. More considerate, as though she were... well, considering something. His internal monologue was getting a little hammy.

Something that grew less evident as she spoke: slowly, cautiously. "I want to... better relate to Applejack and Rarity." Her arms tightened around the book. "I want... to be as close to them as possible. I want our peer group to be intimate. I want all of us to be constant, and..." Her gaze rose to him: wary yet firm. "...you're inextricable."

Light's brow creased. "Um... thanks? That's... good, I guess?" How was he supposed to take that? It might've just been the most naïve, foalish declaration of affable intent he'd ever heard. Though, if she was implying that she wanted him to be close with all of... the Bearers, he'd guess, then he had some bad news. He and Rainbow Dash hated each other's guts, and he could barely stand just looking at Pinkie Pie.

He wasn't gonna tell her that, though. Still needed the book she was holding.

He didn't speak up as Twilight mused on her own thoughts for a moment, glancing back down to the book, then to him, then jerkishly back to the book. "I'll give you this book, Light, but I want..." She trailed off, glancing to the side as... her cheeks gently flushed. "I want... you to come back here, sometime. Some...times."

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as Light blinked bemusedly, then, still looking away, she hurriedly spoke again. "To see Spike, of course, but... in addition..." Over a long period of grimacing and twitching her jaw into strange shapes, putting her eyes anywhere but on him, Twilight seemed to finally calm as she visibly came to an internal decision.

With a breath and a languid blink, Twilight's gaze rose to his. Though her voice was forcibly dull and toneless, he could see how her soul jittered and shook within itself as she spoke, and... Light felt like his would've too.

If only he'd still had his, it probably would've halted altogether. Maybe his heart would suffice.

"...I want to... teach you, Light. About Arcanicism."

Author's Note:

Light thinks it's odd to have empathy. I'm just wondering where he got it.

Urghghgarglebargle—I wanted to get this out yesterday, but it needed editing.

Not to mention, I decided to cut it off here instead of tacking on... what probably would've been an extra 1.5-2k words, because as tantalizing as publishing a new personal record for longest chapter was, I don't hate my readers, so I just stopped here.

I considered cutting out the larger bulk of this chapter, too, but I figured it was probably important that we spend a little more time getting to know Twilight! Light needed to, too, and making amends with Twilight isn't a terrible use of the time, right? So, regardless of your lethargic whines, the chapter will remain 15k words.

But that doesn't mean I don't care about you guys! I tried my very hardest to make this chapter pleasant! Well, if you like two beleaguered unicorns interacting, that is. I sure think it's a hoot!

Anyways, there's lots of interesting stuff in this chapter. Between the beginning quote—which I plan on making a per-chapter occurrence—the anti-Luna rally, Twilight's Spike ban retraction, not to mention her various intrigues, I really did everything I could to make this 15k word slog enjoyable! Hopefully it's not a slog!

This was a long time coming, by the way. It's been my plan to have Light and Twilight interact on an intellectual basis since... I don't even know. Light's got to learn about magic somehow, after all, since he's not getting anywhere with Necromancy without even knowing what the Magiatory system is! foreshadowing. unless I brought it up before now, in which case, whoops

I realized something while writing this chapter, by the way. My characters are already so closely tailored to this fanon, I don't really need to worry if they're OOC! If I want, I can make Twilight a definite mark for ASD, turn her psychotic behavior into neurotic behavior, and let her possess some kind of self-loathing!^{don't worry, i've been diagnosed; i'm probably allowed to talk and write about her like that}

Joking aside, if my saying that makes anyone uncomfortable, then I'm sorry. I think it's interesting to more strongly actualize the way I already perceive Twilight, and Light's offhoof comments don't reflect how I think. You all know he's just a jerk. who might also have ASD. that's probably my influence shining through

...Anyway, I don't want to bring the house down too much, so let's leave it off here. I wanted to mention, as well, that I'm sorry for not being more responsive with comment replies. With how hard it's been for me just to write as of late, I haven't felt very properly reactive. Rest assured, I still read them, and—gosh, do I cherish them.

Oh, also! The title of Twilight's manual is a reference! Making Sense of Magic was what the first draft of my overarching notes on magic was called, and to leave you all off, I'll show some ^boastingproof! See ya! Try not to have too much fun while I'm away!

that wordcount's after I revised the document before I decided to just start over. used to be way bigger. yes, i'm bragging. sue me, i need the confidence

this chapter had 187 views from my traffic while writing it

Comments

[Lost_Data]

You dare omit 2-3 chilliad words! You doubt the will of the audience who remain after the dancing, rambling thoughts of a the mad stallion you have written up! I, myself, will read Chapters twofold the length of what you have written, as the stallion of Flowing Light that well crafted!

In other words, I love reading this story and it keeps me wanting more each time. Three Cheers!

[Witchery]

That... Was completely unexpected. And, honestly? Probably one of your best chapters. Maybe thats a good thing to you, maybe it's a bad thing, but I think the characterization of Twilight here is very important for the story in the long run.

The two of them really are similar, aren't they?

[Oreng Pingvin]

Don't worry about the length of the chapters, I'm sure most readers will be glad they made it this far.

By the way, random fact: the longest chapter I read was 81 thousand words, I read it for 3 days

[DoctorWhoooves]

Is twilight…. Into Light? The tail, the blushing? Now I’m confused lol. Good chapter tho

[BleuBlooms]

Dude, this was my favorite chapter so far! You did a excellent job showing the character of both Twilight and Light getting to know each other. PS. I can easily imagine Twilight and Light having autism. PPS. I also have autism as well!

[Numinos]

That was weirdly wholesome. Like seeing a couple of alien cuttlefish testing each other with flashes of lights and patterns, then finding each other worthy of existence.

[duckmagee]

wanting to learn such scholarly topics is probably the most enticing thing he could say to twilight, her getting to teach such subjects is the equivalent of getting to second base, applejack better watch out or twilight might hog all of light spare time

[Vibrant lies]

This was an excellent chapter. Curious to see how this “friendship” advances. Also if eventually a certain skeleton will get a new body eventually

[hyperiumon]

Two nuerodivergent pony try and communicate is basically a food summary of this chapter. Nice and maybe they will bond over it and her teaching him. Although just asking is light only gonna date applejack ? I love the pairing but alotta stories do herd stuff just wanted to know

[Screw]

Don't worry Wordsmith, everyone is on the spectrum. That is what I truly believe in. It's just that Light, Twilight, and maybe yours are more pronounced. Hell, I might have one but it's undiagnosed and likely tampered by now; I had a way different thinking more than a decade ago. Kinda similar to what your Twilight is.

I love this chapter! Especially the main focus of Light and Twilight. Two neurodivergents interacting is interesting. The chapter's definitely not anywhere close to as rough as the Nightmare Moon arc and this perfectly answers and justifies just about all the issues between Light and Twilight.

Though, maybe it's my shipping subconsciousness, it felt like it was going to be Light x Spike then followed by Light x Twilight. It's even more awkward with Applejack in the mix. Though, that last statement by Twilight, I know that she is eager to learn and teach magic, but it kinda sets off a dating alarm in my head. Doubly awkward if that was the case and Twilight only found out that Light is already taken.

I didn't get to read this chapter early since I got hit by the latest covid a week ago. Anything I did felt draining. Only now I have some brain capacity to absorb enough and critically formulate my thoughts.

I also love how lively Ponyville seems; that protest kinda adds that unexpected but natural reaction of the populace. I wonder, what would Light and Applejack do on their first day as a couple?

[Starlight Nova]

Why doesn’t this have a dark tag but the other side stories do?

[JinxTJL]

11781603
I dunno. You can only have so many tags, I guess?

My whole tagging system is a mess. I tagged my first few stories way back when I didn't have any idea what I was getting myself into, so they're pretty misrepresentative of what's actually going on.

I don't think it's all that big of a deal, though. Maybe they're just dark in Light's goober eyes?

[yorel]

Light x Spike

[frit]

Aw shucks i accidentally went ahead and caught up :( I'll be honest I started reading this story when it was starting out, but those 5 or so chapters of just light and NMM talking drained me and I gave up. But recently I got caught up on a different story and looked through which fics I'm missing. Thought I would give this a second chance, and my god was it worth it.

Bonnie's intermission were great ways to break up the slight staleness that I felt had appeared in the castle. And as soon as we got out of there the story really picked up and it's been a blast to read. I didn't even believe it when you wrote in the authors note that this chapter was 15k words cause it was so enthralling.

The story does move significantly slower than most other fics, and I wouldn't want it any other way as it gives an unparralleded view into the characters worldview. Anyways, I'm not a critic so take my words with a grain of salt. Very excited to see where you take this.

[JinxTJL]

11787330
It's a bit of a late response—you wouldn't believe the kind of month I had—but I wanted to pop in and say... gosh! Thank you so much! Those are some very kind words, and I am eminently flattered! You really know the way to my heart!

You are... not alone when it comes to the chapter 40-48 fiasco. I was still a novice writer at the time it started, and sweet Celestia, was that undertaking a wakeup call. I was so bad at writing, and I was still so bad when I finished it out a year later. It hurt to write, and I know it hurts to read. You are validated for dropping the story there. If this wasn't my story, I would have stopped reading there.

But I'm glad you came back, and I'm happy you're enjoying what I'm doing in the here-and-now present! It's really sweet that you would compliment the slow pace, but I know the update pace is a real mood killer, so I'm going to do my best to provide you more content, faster! Hopefully without compromising on quality, but that's a wait and see kind of promise!

This comment is really so heartwarming; I appreciate it so much, and I've come back to read it intermittently to pull myself out of the I hate my writing funk. I hope I'll be seeing more of you!

this isn't directed at you, the writer of the comment I'm replying to, but I know it's been a while since I replied to any comments, so if you're somebody else reading this and you feel snubbed, then leave another comment on the next chapter and I will write a minimum five hundred word response if you hold me to it. I love you. Platonically.

[Evonix]

This is a disturbing story and I mean that as a complement. Anyone can write about dark magic and gruesome stuff happening and people being distressed about it, they can make it as bad as they want but just adding more doesn't make the impact any bigger.

This on the other hand really puts you in the shoes of someone who is experiencing and has experienced something traumatic, they aren't frequent or all that bad by the standards the average edgy story on this site, some corpses, mental influence, dangerous powers and so on. No deaths of friends or family for cheap drama and the like but vivid descriptions of what does happen and how the characters feel about them makes you take them a bit more seriously without being unpleasant to read. Most of the story is more peaceful slice of life but what has happened and could happen color just about everything.

The main character is no edgy antihero, despite his childhood ambitions, he's an anxious, antisocial geek with an affinity for the macabre of the sort that should be sympathetic to most readers. His meandering, often panic driven inner monologs account for a significant portion of the high wordcount but I've never found them to be actually boring and they do add to the story. His character arc is more about becoming a functional adult of some description more than learning to be a master of undeath or what have you.

Speaking of which one thing this story fails to be about is necromancy, it turns up sure and it is a big part of the main character's ambitions but he barely does any. I think he'd be much happier if he spent more time indulging his hobby and went out into the woods and animate bones or take up taxidermy or something, I came to this story for necromancy and I better get some!

Anyway it's a well written psychological horror/slice of life that should be enjoyable to fans of either, give it a read.

[JinxTJL]

11802168
This is... gosh, this is such a wonderful little analysis-cum-endorsement! I count myself lucky I exclusively write alone, 'cause I'm flushing like there's no tomorrow over here! cum is an actual term, look it up

Seriously, thanks so much for the eminently kind words and the... probably overgenerous accolades—but I still really appreciate it! I've spent so long bumbling after the ever-looming next plot point that I sometimes forget there was a whole 400k words of character development before any of what I'm doing now. Though eighty or more percent of it was a slog, I've always thought that it was very good for setting up what kind of pony Light is, and I'm glad that you seem to think so, too!

It's funny, when the story started, I was wanting to write one of those mind-numbingly obvious angst machines that some people dare to call characters. We were supposed to skip right along past his adolescence, the start of the series, and jump into Necromancy by... I think I was hoping around the twentieth chapter. No maturity. No slice of life. Just grimdark.

At some point, though, as I grew as a writer, I got... a bit overzealous. I was still more green than yellow, ^{banana joke ig} but my head was so full of vim and vinegar from all the people enjoying my first attempt at writing that I... kind of took on something that ended up being way too complex. If you haven't picked up on it yet, I am talking about the whole NMM debacle, and I won't ever stop talking about it, because it was most analogous to a new and cruel method of torture.

I'm still happy it happened, but—man, it was painful at the time. Giving myself actual trauma to help stimulate Light's experiences may have helped saddle him with the suitably fucked up life I'd wanted him to have, and—granted—it helped to populate my worldbuilding and taught me a lot about writing, but it still pretty much sucked. For as deeply as Light's stunted emotions seem to run, I don't think it's a very commendable writing strategy to genuinely detail each and every point of horror he experienced.

Still, the journey achieved its purpose. Light has an entire written history to draw from going forward—which, by the way, I have always considered the prequel to the actual story.

So, don't worry! I still have time to absolutely ruin any gravitas and maturity this story may have achieved as we transition firmly into the Necromancy saga! This is when the fun begins!

...To speak plainly, everything up to the point of a few chapters ago exists for the purpose of an opening act. Light's got his relationships, his trauma, and a reason to spurn that trauma, so now it's time to implement story beats. Actual adventure plotlines that I devised two years ago.

I've said it a lot of times in the past and always proven myself to be a liar, but this time, Necromancy is actually on the horizon. Thank you very much for the delightful comment, and please hold onto your seat as I take a minimum of three more years and one million words to get to season three.

[Swordfighter125]

Near the Everfree, things were just dead. In the closer periphery of Ponyville, though, there were critters and birds and the trees were actually brown! Oh, it was all so quaint and endearing. It'd been just a day or two since he'd sat by the river with Applejack, positively swaddled in the enchanting grasp of creation, but there was just... something about his new lease on life that made him actually care about whether he ever experienced things.

How did he get there? There's Timberwolves and stuff

[Swordfighter125]

He'd been idly fascinated by Spike's soul since he caught his first glimpse of it back when all his friends broke in on his awkward situation with Bon Bon, so finally getting to disregard his own morals and stare at it unabashedly was very intriguing. It had the same basic shape as a regular soul, but where a plain pony's soul was a perfect sphere comprised of lines of harsh light, Spike's was a much rougher sphere of pure, constrained flame.

Still Chaotic Neutral

[Swordfighter125]

Life just wasn't fair.

Her potential is just like Goku, lol

[Swordfighter125]

He rolled his eyes, not even bothering to look at the unicorn as he turned to face towards the front door. "Freakin'... I'm sorry for being such a mule, but I need to learn more about magic, okay? I'm..." He stumbled on a breath, inhaling deeply with the rise of his shoulders and settling with a heated exhale. "I'm not... the most worldly pony when it comes to... magic, and I want to... I need to learn more, so just..."

And who are you? Goku?

[Beeftipsbrony]

11807736
from the way you responded to my comments and the AN it seems you have a very low self esteem when it comes to this story, you really shouldn't its been really good so far. although I'm only on chapter 8
No i wont stop reading just because of one bad thing, even if you hadn't begged us to give it a chance in the description of the story.
and I'm also from the south and that's the reason it bothers me so much, because I use y'all so often and so does everyone else around me but I've never heard it used incorrectly like that. and then to hear someone use it wrong for some reason makes me irrationally angry. most of the time I hear/read it used incorrectly is from people from the north or not in the US, and so i assumed you also were someone who never used it and so didn't know how to.

[CoxitD]

11802220

--!EVERYTHING SPOILERED HAS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE PLOT, UNSPOILER AT THE RISK OF POTENTIALLY RUINING FUN THINGS FOR YOURSELF!--

I think you're excessively beating yourself for otherwise wonderful storytelling and worldbuilding, but more importantly; character development. Light in the early chapters was... static. He was too obsessed with his special talent - something you touched upon in a reasonable manner later in the story as him being so self-assured that because necromancy was his destiny, and he was getting books - that he always needed the books, something that NMM helped dispell; a fact that gave him purpose. Yes; it was severely traumatic, yes - it was outright cruel and disturbing the methods she used, even if they were for her own goals; but she genuinely helped advance the focus of the story; a fact that should not be underestimated.

I think the story would have been - if I am being honest - utterly unsalvagable if something large like that hadn't happened. As much as it was fun for Light to kill himself and then figure out it didn't even matter in the end, that he just came back and his sacrifice meant literally nothing in the grand scheme of things - That character development being on-point for a literal lich - which is what Light would be now, a soul-less husk walking around, only kept alive by his own special talent as far as has been hinted; by him unwillingly stealing and consuming a soul-; it is extremely important that it occurred, as iterated before. He now has impetus and motive to grow as a character.

I agree that the earlier chapters were... distasteful, if not bad by your current standards; but they really helped you setup these wonderful plotpoints that occur later in the story. I feel as if, much like Light; the story doesn't just exemplify how failures can make a character stronger, but how writers learn by making narrative mistakes, and they show pretty expediently how you have learned as a person and writer the value of storytelling, and how 'narrative weaving' (keeping multiple plot-points threaded together over 20-30 chapters) can massively increase the pay-off of these types of plot points.

At the end of the day, I do have my misgivings about the story, and about how some things were handled early on, but I really do feel like NMM was the hero of this story, not in a narrative; but in a meta sense. Without her doing those things, this story would have been far blander - nothing would have driven Light out of his self-imposed stupor - and less palatable to those invested into dark character building. At the end of the day, I think it's almost inevitable that Necromancy stories inevitably will touch upon these subjects, even those meant for children. Zombies, walking corpses; even portrayed in the best of sense still carry the connotations of severely traumatic themes such as gore and body-horror. Light is a Capital-N Necromancer. His destiny is Necromancy, and that means that inevitably... This was always going to happen.

I do hope you feel better, though, since your comment. Traumatising yourself by writing a genuinely thrilling and danger-sense inducing piece of literature is a great undertaking. But like I said, this story has shown the immense growth of you as a Writer, and your capability to spin a captivating tale.

TLDR: NMM was very good for the story; she was a Creshendo to what I would consider the first act, the true coup-de-gracé to finish off the first and most important steps Light had to take to grow as a character. Which was oddly enough...
Dying.

[JinxTJL]

11815449
I'm putting this here right now, because it needs to be said. Thank you. Thank you so much.

I'm going to write you a big, fancy reply with a bunch of smart, effusive words, but I need to sleep on this. Tomorrow—maybe even the day after, I'm going to write you a bunch of words that I hope will accurately sum up the thoughts and feelings your comment spurred. Consider this the foreword for my reply to what may be the nicest, most incisive summation of my three years writing this story.

Writing's hard, and I'm not good at it, but people like you are what made this story what it is today.

In a way, I'm flattered beyond words, so I just need a little time to find some.

Thank you, again, and watch out for a far more verbose thank you sometime soon.