Rewrite

by Bluegrass Brooke

First published

Discord's made many decisions in life he's not proud of, casting that spell on Twilight being one of them. Left without his magic, he must rely on Twilight. In her, he finds a confidant and the courage to bury his past failings at last.

Written by Nerf Stranger and myself. We work on all the chapters together as a team.

After his reformation, Discord had finally warmed up to the idea of having friends, but friendship without trust and mutual understanding means nothing. His latest attempt to gain Twilight’s ends in a magical catastrophe. Injured and left without his god-like powers, Discord has to work with the obstinate alicorn to find a solution.

It soon becomes apparent that a misguided spell isn’t the only wedge driving the pair apart. When those wedges are removed, it’s up to Discord and Twilight to repair the damage. They never imagined it would go further than that . . .


Dark tag for emotional dark scenes, not for grimdark.


This is a stand alone novel. It is NOT a sequel or branch story to my completed work, This Cruel and Random World.


Amazing cover art a gift from Nerf's friend, Madelee. Thanks so much! It's amazing! :pinkiehappy:

Editing for the first chapter courtesy of my buddy Nomad_Sigma.

Chapter One — Well . . . This is Unfortunate

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[Edit]: Updated some minor flow issues and grammar. Should read better now.


Nothing sapped Discord’s patience quite like a dearth of dangerous and or chaotic happenings. If he gave into his instincts, all of Equestria might find itself under a blanket of mismatched socks. Though as part of his “reformation”, such blatant displays of his fabulosity were strictly off limits — at least in this reality.

Altering his own dimension distracted him in a pinch, but it could hardly compare to his stunts in Equestria. Nothing delighted him more than fashioning their mundane world into an extraordinary wonderland. Their resident stick in the mud considered it harmless, as long as the displays were kept “to a respectable minimum”. Twilight on the other hand frequently labeled his “modifications” as an act of sabotage. Sabotage? Really? Please, if he wanted to sabotage Equestrian government, no one would see it coming, let alone miss Goody Two Hooves.

Speaking of sabotage . . . Yesterday’s visit to Twilight’s castle had provided a unique opportunity for just that. Discord leaned back on the lounge, smirking to himself. Though she tried her best to deny it, the truth seeped through the cracks as always. Their dearest Princess of Friendship intended upon researching Tirek’s magic in an effort to prevent any such spells from happening again. “Pathetic. I could do that without any research at all.”

There was the sudden addition of an all too familiar snap and the crack of magic. Soon after a scoffing, familiar voice spoke up, “You know that’s not true.”

Discord scowled at his now independently motile shadow dancing on the wall. “If it’s not my favorite shadow puppet again,” he sneered. He gave his tail a vice-like grip. “How many times have I told you not to—ah whatever.”

He reclined a little, watching various objects drift lazily about the room. Foolish as it was, Discord wished the voice were a living, feeling being rather than an extension of his magic. Humoring it, he leaned against the lounge and drawled, “Oh really? Do enlighten me.”

“How could you, the Lord of Chaos and disharmony possibly create harmony?”

Discord snorted, “Like I’d ever want to.”

A high pitched laugh emanated from the shadow. “You just told me you could do Twilight’s job better. Doesn’t that imply being able to create harmony?”

“Not every situation requires harmony.” His talon flexed, allowing the light to dance off of its sharpened surface. “It might be interesting, you know?”

“What are you thinking? Do you want to be sealed away again like some moldy old book?”

The harshness of the shadow’s voice nearly caused him to jump. “What, I wouldn’t create disharmony, I’d simply prevent harmony . . .”

It sighed theatrically. “Pathetic.”

“Pathetic? Me?” He shot to his feet, slamming his paw to his chest. “I’m the Spirit of Chaos in case you’ve forgotten!”

“Yes, yes, the all-powerful Spirit of Chaos, adhering to the rules of others and living in ‘harmony’. How chaotic of you indeed.”

“My life is better than it ever was before.”

“Better?” It scoffed, “What part of this is better? You live out your days hiding away in this dimension only popping out to pull a stupid prank or have tea parties with your friends. What happened to your ambitions?”

Discord gritted his teeth. Oh, he had “ambitions” all right. Not a day went by where they did not manifest themselves in some manner. Living for centuries with a single goal in mind had left him weak in that regard. When he finally gave into the urges, he betrayed the only real friends he ever had. Never again. “I don’t have to be in power to be happy.”

“Keep telling yourself that. But,” the shadow’s tone turned icy, “it will not last. Professing your ‘reformation’ is easy at present. However, they will hold you to it for longer than that. How will it be centuries from now, when you’ve been driven half mad from boredom? What right have they to force the spirit of chaos to bend to their statutes? Why, you could destroy them with a snap of your—”

“—Enough!” The objects around the room began to gather in a violent spiral. “I am not bending to their statutes, I’ve adopted them.”

It barked a laugh. “You haven’t adopted anything of theirs, Discord. You are the master of chaos, you would wither and die in a harmonic world!”

“There’s always disharmony, that will never change.”

“Yes, but you will be seen as a traitor for embracing it.”

“I’ll take that when it comes,” he snarled, allowing the objects to clatter to the floor. One picture caught his attention. His friends, all smiling at him as if he had not betrayed them mere hours before. Without a second’s hesitation, Twilight forfeited her power, knowing what such a sacrifice entailed.

Thanks to her, he had finally come to understand what true friendship was. A little boredom was a small price to pay for their continued companionship and trust. Still, that did not make the hours pass any faster.

Reaching out his paw, he scooped up the “souvenir” he had taken from Twilight’s library. A small, unassuming journal with notes jammed into every square inch. Summoning his reading glasses, he flipped through the pages until a circled passage caught his attention.

‘I have developed a power draining spell akin to his own. If my calculations are correct, then I should be able to create the counter-spell from this one.’

A wicked grin stretched across his face as he imagined Twilight’s reaction to having her magic drained by a spell of her design. Such a spell could hardly be permanent after all. Stressing their newest princess always proved entertaining, especially if she thought the spell’s effects would last longer. Why, after his little test was over, he might even get her to lighten up and relax. At the very least, it would give them both a good laugh.


As Celestia’s former student, Element of Magic, and princess of Equestria, Twilight dedicated her free time to the pursuit of knowledge. Researching spell after spell all night led to some interesting discoveries after all. Those who didn’t know any better might assume her to be obsessed. Her friends thankfully knew her better than that.

Books and by extension libraries might be her favorite retreat from reality, but her focus would always be on her friends. That didn’t stop her from sneaking away whenever her duties allowed. This evening’s task revolved around adding the finishing touches to the castle’s library.

Despite her best efforts to fill it with books, her new library remained woefully underwhelming. Shelves upon shelves lined the walls, holding a respectable number of books, heck, their contents would have filled up the Golden Oaks Library twice over. However, the sheer volume of the chamber and its incredible storage capacity made that task seem nearly insurmountable.

Twilight levitated up the latest addition to the family, a faded pink cookbook gifted by Mayor Mare herself. Upon the news of her home’s destruction, the townsponies had rallied together to donate their favorite books. The memory still brought tears to her eyes. After a parting hug, she shelved it with a decided finality.

With that book safely in its place, she was officially caught up with stocking. “Finished!” Her ears drooped a little as the exclamation bounced off of the crystalline walls. No matter what she did, the place always felt empty.

The soft patter of Spike’s feet announced his presence long before his face poked around the corner. “Is it safe?”

Twilight couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Really? “Safe from what, Spike? Books?”

“No, Discord.” Spike gritted his teeth, looking at the shelves as if expecting the draconequus to materialize behind one any second.

“Are you sure?”

“I saw him, Twilight!”

Great, just great. The last time Discord “popped in,” he had disrupted her research, stollen her notes, and successfully traumatized Spike by apparating in his bed. Then there was the incident with the fruit bowl. Needless to say, his visits remained less than pleasant affairs. “What does he want this time?”

“Who knows? All I know is that he popped into the pantry and vanished before I could talk to him.”

“Well, guess we’ll hear about it soon enough . . . We always do,” she murmured as an aside.

“You heading to bed? It’s already eleven . . .”

“Not yet,” her eyes fell to the large tome resting atop the nearest cushion, “I want to work out the kinks on this reflection spell.”

For a moment, it looked as though he might protest, but shrugged in an off-hand way. “Suit yourself, but I’m going to bed.”

“Night.” After he left, she settled down in her favorite reading nook. Try as she may to focus, her mind continued to wander. As Element of Magic, spell creation presented a unique and engaging challenge. This spell in particular required an immense amount of research and focus to achieve anything resembling results. “I need my other notes . . .”

“Other notes you say,” a familiar, grating voice echoed around the library as a familiar journal toppled onto the nearest cushion.

Discord. Twilight leapt to her hooves, lighting her horn. Bracing herself, she waited for the childish Spirit of Chaos to reveal himself.

Sure enough, with a loud crack and a cloud of noxiously sweet smoke, Discord appeared, donned in what looked to be a lab coat and goggles. “Good evening, Twilight,” he drawled, voice laced with an artificial honey that made her skin crawl.

“Come here to return what you stole?”

He clutched his chest in a mock offended manner. “Why Twilight, I’d never steal anything from my friends.”

“Uh-huh.” I don’t have time for this . . . “What do you want, Discord?”

“Why do you think I want anything from you?”

Twilight could have easily listed a hundred reasons why. Despite what he claimed, Discord never stopped in unless it benefited him in some manner. She made a beckoning motion, “Cut to the chase, I’m trying to study.”

Huffing, Discord stood up straight, looming over her as usual. “Is that any way to talk to your friend who's come all this way just to help you out?”

“I doubt that,” she snapped.

He tisked, waving a talon in her face. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss my help, Twilight. I am endowed with powers you couldn’t begin to comprehend.”

“What kind of help, Discord?”

“The fun kind.”

“Uh-huh.” Discord’s definition of “fun” hardly correlated with her own. “Not interested.”

“But it’s a spell to calm your nerves and help you focus on that research of yours.” He batted his eyes, sticking out his lip. “Please.”

As she stared at him, a delightful idea came to the forefront of her mind. Why not humor him? Then, just as he cast whatever stupid prank spell he was cooking up, she would reflect the spell right back at him. Perfect. She let out a long, slow breath, “All right, I’ll do it. But, ditch the outfit, I don’t want to feel like a lab experiment.”

“Deal.” With a loud crack, his costume disappeared. Smirking in that smug way of his, he raised his talon theatrically. “One, two—”

Twilight didn’t wait for the last count. Focusing all her energy on the reflection spell, she braced for impact. A lilac shield appeared around her just as the wave of chaos-based magic slammed into it. One of her personal favorites, the spell could withstand an incredible amount of magical pressure, absorbing it until it could be flung back at the target.

This time however, the pressure bent the shield closer and closer towards her. No matter how much magic she poured in, Discord’s matched it. One last try. Focusing all her concentration on the center of the spell, Twilight allowed her power to pool. With the force of a great slingshot, the magic shot towards Discord. The resulting recoil sent her flying into a pile of cushions.

A sickening thud announced Discord’s contact with the nearest bookshelf before being joined by the cacophony of heavy tomes slamming into the crystal. Opening her eyes, she stared at the still settling contents of her bookshelf.

Smirking triumphantly, Twilight rose to her hooves, prancing over to the pile of books. “Not today, Discord.”

Silence. Snorting in frustration, she started to levitate the books aside. Discord was laying on his stomach, looking blearily up at her. Twilight rolled her eyes, “Get up, Discord. I know you’re not hurt by that.”

Rather than the usual condescending remark, Discord stared hard at the books, then at his sides, before finally focusing back on her like some dejected puppy dog.

Can’t believe you lost, huh? “Quit pouting. Geesh, I wouldn’t have had to do it if you played fair.”

Discord made to stand, but slid on the books, falling on his face. After a long moment staring at his side, he mouthed something. Then, he locked gazes with her and spoke in the softest tone she had ever heard him use, “What did you do to me?”

Making to scold him for playing around, Twilight stopped cold upon noting his expression. Being the neary embodiment of pride, Discord seemed immune to self-doubt. But he just gaped at her, eyes awash with unmistakable terror. “What did you do?” he repeated in a small, shaky voice.

“I reflected your spell back at you.” It was all she could think to say.

“It . . . you . . .” Discord cleared his throat, voice growing more firm, “You concentrated all your magic in one spot to combat it?”

Twilight gulped, “Yes.”

“Damn,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. “This isn’t good.”

“Why? What’s the problem?”

He shot her a withering stare. “The problem, Twilight is this. What do you think happens when an ordinary spell is interrupted?”

“It dissipates, or, reflects given the defender’s choice of incantations.”

With an exaggerated, slow breath, he continued, “Now, tell me what happens when an untested spell fueled by magic as powerful as my own is intercepted and rebounded upon the user?”

“Er . . .” What did happen? The thought had never occurred to her, after all, she didn’t exactly duel powerful mages on a daily basis. “I don’t know.”

“It magnifies the spell’s effects, Twilight,” he snarled through gritted teeth.

“Magnifies its effects?” Instinctively, her eyes began to dart all over Discord but nothing seemed out of place. What’s he so dramatic about? “You look fine to me.”

“Am I?” He gave her a mock bow, then continued in a sarcastic drawl, “Congratulations, Twilight, you’ve successfully taken away the Spirit of Chaos’ god-like powers. Thanks to you, I have been reduced to the magical prowess of a mere mortal.”

There’s no way. “That’s impossible! I . . . nopony could do that . . .”

“Tirek did.”

She thought for a moment, then her eyes suddenly went very wide. “Wait! You wanted to take my magic away like Tirek?!” she squeaked as confusion, disbelief, and anger vied for control.

Discord raised a paw in defense. “Relax! I only planned on doing it for a few minutes. Just long enough for you to notice and freak out a bit. Then I would have given it back right away. Promise.”

“If that’s the case, then you should be back to normal in a few minutes.”

“But I’m not, ‘back to normal,’ now am I?”

Her mind scrambled for some explanation, any explanation. “You’re faking it.”

Discord pinned his ears. “I am not faking it, Twilight,” he stressed each word as if explaining the obvious.

The blood began to rush to her ears. This was all some big joke, it had to be. “Stop lying, Discord.” A little rebounded spell couldn’t take away his magic, could it? She waved her hoof over him, “You’re fine! Go on, do one of your stupid dimension defying tricks.”

Rolling his eyes, he held up his talon. A familiar snap echoed around the cavernous room, but there was absolutely no visible effect.

“What was that?”

“That was my attempt at turning your floor into cheese.”

“It didn’t work.” Oh, Celestia . . . “It . . . it’s really gone.” There had to be some mistake, her magic couldn’t have caused this, could it? And yet, there was no denying Discord’s impossibly serious expression and lack of tricks. The longer she stared, the faster her heart pounded. This can’t be happening! “It’s not gone permanently, is it?”

“I don’t—I doubt it.” For an instant, his eyes flashed with uncertainty before being masked once more. Shaking his head, he snapped again. In an instant, every one of the books zoomed back to the shelf, leaving him lying on the floor. “I can still use my magic, just . . . not to the extent I’ve grown accustomed to.”

“I’m so sorry, I—”

“Save it, Twilight. What’s done is done.” Finally getting to his feet, Discord walked carefully over to her. “Given time, its effects will dissipate. However,” he pointed to her sides, “I’m more concerned with the effect it will have on you.”

“But I reflected it!”

Discord shrugged, “You felt the recoil. That had to do something.”

“I don’t notice anything different . . .” Her body felt the same as it always had. Heck, she even felt better than usual. How? It didn’t make any sense.

“It probably isn’t major, but I thought I’d warn you.” With a parting wave, Discord started toward the door.

As he walked, she couldn’t help but notice how unsteady his steps were. Why doesn’t he just teleport like usual? Did I take that away too? Then, before she could ask, he fell hard on the floor.

“Discord!” She cantered over to examine him closer.

As soon as her hoof reached out to him, he pushed it away. “I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are!” Twilight knelt beside him, stroking his back despite Discord’s resistance. The warm, sticky substance made her flinch. In the light of her magic, she could make out a jagged gash. A large quantity of blood had already matted the hairs and some still trickled slowly down.

Her heart pounded still faster. “You-you’re hurt! Let me—”

“No!” Discord pushed her away, this time with enough force to send her staggering backwards.

“Please let me help. It’s my fault.” Trying to touch him again resulted in a painful slap from his tail.

“You’ve helped enough,” he breathed through clenched teeth.

Urgh! Stubborn old goat. “I can’t let you go wandering around like this,” she gestured to the still dripping wound. The wound she caused. He didn’t trust her to help, and honestly she couldn’t blame him. Still, there had to be something she could do. “If-if you don’t want me to help, then at least stay until you’re better. Please,” she whimpered.

Discord’s eyes darted from his back to her. Then, with a heavy sigh, he nodded. “Very well. I suppose I could stay for one night.”

Smiling weakly, she held out a hoof. He did not take it, but stood on his own, walking slowly towards the door. A part of her wished he would stop being so stubborn and ask for help, but that was about as likely as his becoming the next Princess of Equestria. Glumly, she trotted up to him. What do I do now?


Cold? I shouldn’t be cold. I don’t get cold. Discord blinked awake, staring at the darkened room around him. He tensed until realizing who it belonged to. Oh, right. Groaning, he allowed his head to fall to the checkered quilt with a soft thud.

The heavy bandages wound around his midsection felt like the stranglehold of an anaconda, but they did lessen the pain somewhat. Pain, really? Discord never thought that would be possible, not like this anyway. Moreover, a simple reflected spell and run-in with a shelf caused it. How pathetic was he?

When the spell had hit him, he had felt weak, but it hardly compared to his current condition. Every inch of his body felt incapable of anything more than a slight motion. That, compounded with the overwhelming separation was driving him mad. His world didn’t just have magic, it swam in it. Now it trickled around him like a dying brook.

His ear twitched as he heard hoofsteps and the door swung open. Twilight’s head poked cautiously around the corner. “Discord?”

He raised an eyebrow. Did she have any idea what time it was? “Yes?”

“I thought I’d check on you.” She crept closer with all the air of a filly about to prod a manticore with a stick. “How’s your fever?”

“Fine.”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re still shaking.” Before he could argue the point further, he felt the weight of several blankets over him. A sly grin parted her mouth, “You know, if you were cold, you could have just gone under the covers.”

“I hate covers,” he grumbled, avoiding her gaze. A part of him wanted to scold her further, but the exhaustion had already set in. He closed his eyes, hoping she would take the hint. It worked, as he heard her hoofsteps and the door closing softly.

Some spell this turned out to be. Under any other circumstances, such a feat of ingenuity from Twilight would have been hilarious. A rebounded prank held endless fun possibilities, a rebounded, untested spell did not. Being bored might not be such a bad alternative after all . . .This is where the shadow comes in

Chapter Two — Aftermath

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Spike had to hand it to Twilight, she landed herself a pretty sweet deal with the new castle. Not only did it have rooms upon rooms and a massive library, but it had the best kitchen an aspiring chef like himself could ask for. After an animated discussion on breakfast pastries with Pinkie Pie, she had shared her family’s "super secret pancake surprise" recipe. All he needed now was his apron.

Sliding down the crystal banister, he landed with a practiced precision on the first floor runner. Trotting over to the guest bedroom turned storage closet, he paused for a moment. A low rumbling noise seeped through the cracks to his ears like the low hum of a motor.

Gulping, he reached cautiously for the doorknob. Please don’t be dangerous, please don’t be dangerous. With as much courage as he could muster, he opened the door, peering around the frame. He nearly cried out upon noticing the draconequus curled tightly on the bed like some grotesque kitten. Discord?

Judging from the quilts draped over his sides and how sound asleep he was, Discord had not simply wandered in for another prank. But why was he here? Surely the Spirit of Chaos had better places to be than in their castle; Discord certainly acted like he did at any rate.

Just as carefully as he opened the door, he shut it, leaning against the wall. What do I do? Oh, Twilight’s going to be so mad. Making up his mind, he raced down the hallway only to slam head first into something hard and toppling to the floor. “Ouch. . . ” He looked up to see the pony he was searching for blinking back at him. “Twilight, thank Celestia I found you.”

Twilight giggled, helping him to his feet. “In a hurry?”

“You could say that.” His eyes darted to the chamber door. “It’s Discord. He’s in the guest room.”

“I know.” She shuffled a little, pawing at the smooth crystal below her hooves. “I . . . I put him there.”

“What?” But, there was no mistaking the dead serious stare Twilight shot back at him. “Why?”

She sighed, running a shaking hoof through her mane. “Well, you see . . . there was this accident last night and, well . . .”

“Well what?”

She spilled out the next sentence with all the air of pulling a bandaid off quickly. “Discord’s magic is drained and it may or may not be my fault.”

“Discord’s magic is . . . drained?” Hearthswarming Eve had come early this year. “Yes! No more stupid pranks.”

“That’s nothing to be happy about, Spike.” Twilight’s harsh tone stopped his victory dance cold. Her legs were shaking a little under her as she continued more softly, “He tried to cast a spell on me, said it would calm my nerves or something. I thought I’d be smart and use my reflecting spell on him and,” she gulped, folding her ears back, “I-I think . . . I may have hurt him pretty bad.”

“Hurt him?”

“Well, he sort of slammed into the bookshelf.”

“Please, as if a bookshelf’s going to hurt the Spirit of Chaos. Powers or no powers, he’s still Discord, right?”

“Well, I guess so . . .” There was a long pause, then she started towards the kitchen. “Let’s get some breakfast. The last thing we need is Discord whining about how we woke him up.”

“Okay. I’ve got a new recipe I wanted to try anyway.” Spike rolled his eyes after she walked off. Discord crashing at their place, a spell gone wrong, looks like it was going to be another lovely day in Ponyville . . .


Discord blinked awake, stomach sinking as realization slowly dawned on him. The bed, the room, none of it was his. Rather, the crystal chamber belonged to a certain alicorn princess with a guilty conscience. He sighed, tossing off the blankets.

In the morning light, he took in the real aftermath of his run-in with Twilight’s bookshelf. The bandages were stained with dried blood, but, as he unwrapped them, he noted with some satisfaction that the bleeding had finally stopped though it still ached with every movement. The cut more closely resembled a puncture wound, digging deep into the flesh, but hardly wider than a pony’s hoof. So why had she panicked like that?

Guilt aside, Twilight had no reason to lose it last night. Her reaction, though irritating, did not come as a surprise. Hell, he would have been more shocked if she allowed him to throw the spell at her unquestioningly. With as much intelligence as she possessed, she had to have seen his little ruse coming. Somehow she had turned his experiment into one of her own. Still, for the rebound to be so violent . . .

He grimaced as his claw ran over the gash. Can’t say I’m exactly pleased with the results. Her ability to successfully construct and utilize a spell based on a magic ponies hardly understood remained nothing short of brilliant.

His eyes fell to the small medical kit Twilight had left for him. Snapping his claws, he summoned it to the bed. The utter lack of a magic ripple made him shudder. Still not working, huh?

Opening up the kit, he frowned. Ointments, bandages, scissors, gauze, and a few other supplies he did not recognize. Strange and stupid as it was, Discord had no idea what to do. He didn't get hurt, so learning first aid never ranked high on his priority list.

After his best attempt at dressing the wound, he got shakily to his feet. Out of habit, he snapped his fingers to teleport to Twilight, but that only resulted in his teleporting just outside the door. He nearly tripped over his feet at the unfamiliar weakness in his limbs. Oh, right . . .

Reluctantly, he set off down the hallway. Walking might be normal for most ponies, but it always seemed stupid to him. Why walk when he could just as easily teleport to his destination in no time at all? Halfway to the library, he tried to summon something to eat. Even that proved too much for his current magic. Great, just great.

“Discord?”

His ears twitched as he turned to see Twilight trotting over to him. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Like Tartarus run over. Though he gave her an indifferent shrug. “Fine.”

“That’s good,” she breathed. “I was just about to fetch you for breakfast.”

Discord hoped she couldn’t hear the loud growling of his stomach. “Sounds good. Er . . . I’ll follow you then.” This was going to be one hell of an awkward day, wasn’t it?


Discord generally approved of spending as little time as possible in the confines of an institute of knowledge. However, certain sacrifices had to be made when reduced to all the magical prowess of a run-of-the-mill stallion and the only answers lay in the library. That and, after over a thousand years imprisoned in stone, his patience had worn thin.

They hadn’t said a word to each other all throughout breakfast, but Discord could have cut the tension with a butter knife. Then Spike shot daggers at him the whole way through, as though expecting an attack any second. The same expression plastered to the townsponies’ faces whenever he walked by. He had had enough of it to last a lifetime.

Now after following Twilight to the entrance of the library, she turned to face him at last. “Hey Discord?”

“Yes?” What now?

Her eyes drifted to his back before focusing on the floor. “Maybe you should rest some. I appreciate you wanting to help but . . . I think I can handle it for now.”

If you don’t want me to stay, just say so. Giving his best would-be-casual shrug, he sauntered off down the hallway. “Alright. Do let me know when you’ve turned Spike into a chicken or something . . .”

A weight lifted off his shoulders as he walked away from the castle. Twilight would do all the dirty work for him while he passed the time away. What better way to spend his time than visiting his Flutterbuddy? At least she had the common courtesy not to blast him into bookshelves.

The morning turned out to be even more pleasant than he originally imagined. All around town, spring flowers bloomed and chubby clouds drifted lazily across an achingly blue sky. Ponyville’s residents darted to and fro as usual, glancing occasionally at him before returning to their mundane tasks.

Discord stood in the center of Main Street, stretching his arms to the sky. “Good morning, everypony!”

Most of the residents jumped and cringed, but a few brave souls mumbled a greeting. One scrawny pegasus filly even smiled at him. “Charming, simply charming,” he mused to himself before trudging down the road.

He scarcely went a few steps before being stopped by Pinkie Pie nearly sliding into him.

“Hiya, Discord,” she chimed, voice carrying across the marketplace. As usual, she greeted him with a bonecrushing hug. The pressure on his aching muscles was far from pleasant.

As subtly as he could, he pried her off of him. “Well, somepony’s in good spirits today.”

“Yup a doodles. Today’s the day.”

“Oh how delightful!” Discord clapped his hands together, grinning mischievously. “Are you finally going to take my suggestion?”

“Er,” she giggled, pawing at the dirt, “well, I don’t think the Cakes would be very happy with me hiding confetti canons in their cupcakes.”

He sniggered, starting down the road. “Who said they had to like it? That’s part of the fun!” Seeing the concern in her eyes, he added, “So what’s really going on today?”

“Oh, well, Rainbow’s helping me design the first annual Sweet Olympics.”

“Sweet Olympics?” Discord had the sudden mental image of ponies on a balancing pole suspended over a giant pool of pudding. “Marvelous! What do you say about my helping out. Why, I could add some chocolate rain, a liquorish maze, a gummy bear pit . . .”

“—Yes!” She started to bounce up and down as if on a puppet wire. “I was gonna ask Cheesie to help, but you can just snap,” her hoof waved in what he could only assume was her impersonation of a snap, “and we’ll have all the sweets we’d need.”

An uncomfortable lurch came at her words. He stared down at his aching limbs, pondering. Just how long would this spell affect him? Shaking his head, he smiled back at her. “Yes, it will be quite the show.”

“Sooo,” Pinkie stared expectantly back at him, “whatcha doin’ in Ponyville? Going to play some more pranks?”

He shrugged, “Oh, I’m always pulling pranks, that’s not going to change. But,” his eyes flickered to the castle, “you might say I’m detained here for the time being.”

“De-what now?”

“Never you mind,” he sing-songed, sticking out his tongue for good measure. Raising his talon, he made to teleport, only to be stopped by Pinkie’s hoof. “Yes?”

“Er, Discord,” her voice grew uncharacteristically soft, “are you okay?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be, Pinkie?”

Her eyes drifted to his bandages, “You’re all wrapped up.”

“Oh this?” His booming laugh set a few ponies looking their direction. “It’s an experiment, my dear.”

“Experiment?”

“Yes, Er,” Discord wracked his brain for possible excuses, “it’s a secret.”

A mutinous expression flickered across Pinkie’s face before being replaced by a knowing smirk. “Oh, ho, ho. So, it’s an undercover mission, huh?” She crouched low to the ground, posing like some comic book spy. “I like it.”

“Uh, huh.” Seeing his opportunity, Discord snapped and transported to the edge of Ponyville. Such a distance could hardly be considered a success, but it was progress. Give it time, Discord, give it time . . .


Fluttershy could not get enough of late spring mornings. A kind of perfect balance came over the world at this time of year. Good weather, lush green grass, the occasional light rain shower, and of course all the baby animals she had the pleasure of looking after.

After watering the last of her flowers, she placed the pail down, sighing contentedly. For the first time in weeks, her yard had returned to some state of order, resembling more of a garden than the nursery it had been. Just as she turned to go inside, a welcome, but completely unexpected figure apparated into the flowering shrubs. “Discord?” she squeaked, darting over to him.

Discord grumbled something to himself before untangling himself from the shrub. “Sorry about that, Fluttershy. My teleportation is on the fritz today.” He snapped his talon, a few red and orange sparks taking to the air.

“Oh, my.” When did Discord’s magic ever go on the fritz? Something terrible must have happened. “Was it Tirek again? Or,” she instinctively cringed behind her wing, “some other monster.” The very thought of another powerful monster wreaking havoc on Equestria so soon after the last incident made her shudder all over.

“Huh?” He cocked his head, knocking a few stray leaves from his ear. “No, no, no. Nothing like that, Flutterbuddy.”

She gave an audible sigh of relief. “So why’s your magic—Oh my goodness!” For the first time since he appeared, Fluttershy gave a long hard look at Discord. Bandages wrapped around a portion of his back, and his entire stance just looked off to her. “What happened?”

“Oh the usual.” His claw waved an all too hurried dismissal. “Nothing to be concerned over.”

“The usual what?” she pressed, a little firmly now.

“Experimentation,” he hedged, looking away.

Fluttershy felt the smallest tinge of annoyance now. After spending months getting to know Discord, she could tell a half-truth when she saw one. What trouble had he dragged himself into this time? “Discord, look at me.”

His eyes met hers with all the air of a kicked dog. “What?”

“Discord please,” she gripped his paw in her hooves, “you’re hurt. What happened?” Once again, he averted her gaze, “Discord, you tell me this instant!”

Discord twitched. “Princess Sparkle and I may have had a tiny dispute,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

She crossed her arms. “The whole story, Discord.”

“Oh, okay then!” His next words tumbled out in a rush, “I stole some of Twilight’s notes the other day and found a power draining spell she had cooked up. I thought it’d be a good laugh to use it on her. When I tried, she waaaay overreacted,” the words were accented with a wild gesticulation, “and she sent the spell back on me.”

“Oh, my. And . . . your back?”

Discord took a long breath before continuing in a more collected manner. “Well, I hit the corner of one of the bookshelves pretty hard. And . . . I . . . may have kinda lost my magic. Well, most of my magic,” he amended.

Lost his magic? Fluttershy’s stomach churned at the thought of Discord without magic. It was as ludicrous as Angel Bunny without fur. “Are you okay? I mean, you’re practically made of magic. And your cut, did you clean it properly?”

“I’m fine, and yes,” he added a touch too quickly. “It’s just a scratch, Fluttershy, I’ll be better in no time.”

“Well, if you’re sure . . .”

“Positive. Now then,” he stood up a little straighter, jerking his head to the cottage, “let’s have some tea and forget all about this nasty business.” His hopeful smile proved impossible to resist.

“Sure.” She led the way inside the cottage, eyeing Discord from the corner of her eye. Working as an animal caretaker as long as she had, Fluttershy could almost always tell when one of her animal friends ached. Though he tried to hide it, his discomfort leaked through. In all their months together, Discord had not shown the slightest hint of pain despite countless reckless stunts. For a bookshelf to do this . . . It did not bode well, not in the least.

For the next half hour, they chatted as they always did, be it the day, their friends, or whatever random thoughts popped into their heads. Throughout their chat, Discord acted polite and overly jovial. He always tried to be courteous in his own way, but never like this. He didn’t eat the tea cups or send random objects flying, hog the conversation, or even tease Angel Bunny, he just sat there cool as a cucumber.

After a time, her observations became a preoccupation, so much so that their conversation turned to a dull hum in her ears. She snapped out long enough to see Discord staring expectantly back at her. “Yes, honey is the best sweetener,” she added quickly.

Discord raised an eyebrow, “You put honey on your mashed potatoes?” He raised the cup to his lips, smirking a little, “How delightfully chaotic. You’re learning.”

“What? No, no, no.”

Angel Bunny clapped a paw to his face.

Taking control of the situation as best she could, she continued softly, “I just, I was a little distracted.”

“About?”

“You,” she barely breathed the word.

Discord gave one of his booming laughs, stroking his beard. “I suppose I am dreadfully distracting . . .”

A long, awkward pause filled the void their conversation had left. Then, slowly, Discord placed his cup on the table before leaning back in his chair. “Could I ask you something, Fluttershy?”

The strangely serious tone jolted her to a kind of attention. “Yes?”

“Do you . . . do you think they’ll ever trust me?” he murmured, so gently even Angel stopped glowering at him.

“Who?”

“The . . . the ponies, your friends, and,” he paused as if lost in thought or memory, “Tia.”

Fluttershy leaned forward, smiling her most encouraging smile. “Of course they will. I know our friends already do, and Celestia spoke so highly of you at the Gala. And the others will come around, you’ll see.”

Discord nodded slowly, sitting back up again. “Yes, yes. What was I thinking? He, he,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck with a paw. “Well . . . I suppose I’ll leave you to it then.”

“To what?”

“Your spa date with Rarity.” He shot her a playful wink, “Don’t want to miss that, do you?”

Her eyes drifted to the clock, starting at the time. “Oh, goodness.” Leaping to her hooves, she trotted over to the door. Halfway out the door, common courtesy caught up with her. She wheeled around, addressing the draconequus. “If you need to talk some more, Discord, I can stay. She’d understand . . .”

“No, no, no.” He waved his claw almost lazily. “Do go on, I’ll be just fine.”

“Er . . . Okay then.” With that, she headed out the door towards Ponyville. Just fine? At that moment, she would have given anything in the world to believe him.

Chapter Three — One Big Mess

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“Oh, come on! There has to be something.” Twilight slammed the decorative spell book shut and tossed it to the side. After an entire morning’s search, she was no closer to finding a solution than Discord was to being crowned Prince of Harmony.

Her eyes drifted to the shelf and the books’ now less-than-organized state. In the light of the midday sun, she could just make out an odd discoloration. Her heart sunk as she flew over and noted what it was. The wicked projection of crystal that formed the corner was covered in a large quantity of dried blood.

Running a shaking hoof over the stained surface, she cringed. Lack of medical experience aside, Twilight could tell just how far the crystal point had dug into Discord’s back. Why hadn’t he mentioned the wound’s severity earlier?

Zooming to the doorway, she almost ran headlong into Spike. He backed up a few steps, balancing the plate of nachos in his hands. “Woah, what’s the hurry, Twilight?”

“Discord,” she panted, landing on the floor beside her assistant.

“What about him?” Spike performed an admirable pirouette as she pushed past him. “Twilight!”

Foregoing the usual pleasantries, she pushed past him towards Discord’s room. “I don’t have time to explain, Discord’s hurt.”

“He looked fine this morning.”

Twilight halted, looking back at the dragon. “Maybe . . . but—”

“When does a bookshelf stop someone like him?” Spike chuckled taking a chip from the plate. “Come on, Twi. He can raise the sun and moon whenever he wants, transform Equestria into some kind of freaky carnival, dimension hop just for the heck of it, and you think a bookshelf’s gonna stop him?”

“But he doesn't have his magic, Spike.”

Spike rolled his eyes sarcastically, “Sure he doesn’t. How do you know he’s not tricking you?”

“I . . . he . . .” How did she know? Certainly Discord tricked her before, but would he lie about something like this? Discord’s impossibly serious expression, the terror in his eyes . . . This entire situation could not possibly be some kind of stupid joke, could it? Shaking her head, she continued less confidently, “Well, I’m just . . . just going to check up on him, ma-make sure he’s okay, you know?”

Spike shrugged, walking down the hallway once more. Without wasting another second, she went towards Discord’s room. Standing in front of the heavy doors, she somehow felt incredibly awkward. What do I say? ‘Sorry for being an oblivious jerk? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?’ Something told her neither of the two would go over well with him.

Making the decision to at least try to say something encouraging, she knocked loudly on the door. No answer. A few more tries yielded the same result. Maybe he’s asleep or, she gulped, ignoring me. She pressed her side to the cool crystal, “Discord, if . . . if you can hear me, I ju-just wanted to let you know I’m sorry about this whole mess. I saw the . . . your blood on the shelf. If you were really hurt, you’d let me know, right?” Silence.

Twilight sighed, staggering slowly down the hallway, half expecting Discord to pop out and talk to her. But he didn’t and she really couldn’t blame him. Like it or not, she was at least partly to blame for Discord’s current condition. The quicker she found a solution, the better off they’d all be.


Discord didn’t exactly care for Ponyville, but as long as his friends tolerated the place, so would he. There was nothing much for him to do there, and, given his current predicament, it might be better to lay low. So he turned his attention to the only remotely interesting location around, the Everfree forest.

The forest lacked the gaudy flair his experiments tended to create, but it did successfully manage to surprise him at every turn. Due to its less than stellar reputation, Discord had the place to himself or at least mostly to himself. His eyes drifted to the various glowing eyes peering at him from various locations in the canopy. No creature was fool enough to mess with him and they always seemed content to nestle a safe distance away to enjoy the show.

No tricks today, I’m afraid. Discord trudged through a dense collection of roots. He wanted to fly, but the strain it would place on his back hardly seemed worth the effort. As he walked, his conversation with Fluttershy drifted to the forefront of his mind.

Did they really trust him? Certainly Fluttershy trusted him, but Twilight? The alicorn’s reaction had been proof enough of her distrust. Granted, this time she had a reason to be doubtful, but would it always be this way with her? What if a serious situation came up and he needed her to listen? He snorted a laugh. Not likely.

Still, it bothered him on some fundamental level. Friend … friend is what they called him. Friends trust each other completely, do they not? How could Twilight and all the others give him that title and continue to doubt every one of his actions?

Of course, the incident with Tirek hardly helped matters, particularly with Twilight. And, now that that had finally blown over, he had dedicated himself to learning harmony and friendship. However, the more he thought about it, the more his confidence foundered. For centuries now, his purpose centered around causing as much chaos and disharmony as possible. Friends? Well, he had given up on those after . . . after what happened.

Shaking his head, he started marching through the knee deep grass carpeting the forest clearing. Of course his skills in friendship could use a tune up, but they could not blame him for that surely. After all, their early ventures in friendship were hardly more successful than his own. He had a willingness to learn from his mistakes just as much as they did. And yet, their mistakes consistently met with acceptance while his met with vehement opposition.

A sudden loss of balance jolted him uncomfortably back to reality. His reaction was too slow, and he toppled over face first onto the damp grass. The resulting, searing pain in his back caused him to cry out. Groaning, he turned back to see the root that had tripped him. Smooth, Discord, real smooth.

He made to stand, but the pain made him reconsider. This morning’s aches and pains had if anything grown worse not better. More than likely, it formed an integral part of the healing process. That did not make it any more bearable, however.

Judging from the lack of sunlight penetrated from the canopy, his little hike had led him to the deeper part of the forest. With a bit more effort than he cared to admit, Discord walked over to the nearest tree, leaning carefully against the mossy trunk. Eveloped in the cool and the silence, he might have been relaxed if not for the stinging pain from the gash.

Ironic that his encounter with Twilight led to physical pain on his part. Generally, their little chats ended up irritating him on some fundamental, emotional level. Friend or not, Twilight rarely seemed pleased with his visits. Of course he loved spending time with her, particularly since her overreaction to his pranks bordered on hysterical. Hanging around with their resident friendship expert also doubled as a lesson for him. However, her rejection of any of his suggestions, constant irritation at his presence, and lack of creativity always left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.

Running his paw across the damp grass, he murmured, “I do try, you know.” The words bounced around the clearing, before returning to him like a dull affirmation. His audience had started to abandon him as the novelty of his presence wore off. What did he care for the wide eyed stares of forest animals anyway? He received more than his fair share of those walking through Ponyville on any given day. Only that the ones he received there were far less pleasant.

He snapped, half expecting the trees to turn to liquorish. Nothing. Snorting in frustration, he slowly rolled on his side, trying to find some position that did not aggravate the pain. Some rest and everything would go back to normal. One spell could hardly slow him down for long.


Twilight paced the hallway hooves clattering against the smooth crystal surface. The research had occupied her mind for several hours now, but her dedication had been replaced by worry. After a thorough sweep of the castle and Pinkie Pie’s testimony, it became apparent that Discord had left. But to where and for how long remained anypony’s guess.

Despite her best efforts to control her wayward imagination, the image of Discord collapsed on the side of the road somewhere kept cropping up. That hardly seemed likely. And yet, she grew more restless with each passing minute. If he wasn’t hurt, then where was he?

“I’ve got to look for him.” She cantered over to the door, only to slide to a stop halfway. “No, no, Twilight. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself.” The urge to do something threatened to tear her apart. Her hooves tapped a nervous tattoo that rang in her ears. “Relax, Twilight, relax.”

At the sound of the front door, she spun around so fast she nearly fell on her face. Discord walked in, closing the door behind him. Thank Celestia! She galloped over, perhaps a little too fast, actually sliding into his chest. “You’re back!”

She felt him twitch against her, then his hands push her back a few inches. “Of course I am.”

Her eyes darted to the bandages then to his face. Though he appeared his usual self, there was a hint of exhaustion in his eyes that never used to be there. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Discord pushed past her, walking down the hallway. “Of course I’m fine,” he called without so much as glancing her way.

Don’t ignore me. Twilight trotted over to him, marking his pace. “Where were you? I was worried sick.”

He wheeled around, staring incredulously at her. “Why?”

“I er,” her eyes flickered to the bandages, “your wound.”

His tail twitched like an angry cat’s. “I told you it’s fine,” he snapped.

“No it’s not!” Twilight reached out to touch the bandage, but Discord sidestepped so fast she nearly fell over. “Discord! Let me help you.”

“I’ve already had enough of your ‘help’, Twilight.”

So that’s what this is about? “I said I was sorry. Geesh, it was one stupid spell, quit blowing everything out of proportion!”

“It’s not about the damned spell, Twilight!” Discord’s voice boomed so loudly in the empty hall that she instinctively clutched her ears.

Recovering, she stood straight, eyes flashing menacingly into his own. What’s gotten into him? He’s never this angry. “What is it about then?”

“You wouldn’t care to understand,” he mumbled under his breath.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I do care, Discord!” Once again she tried to examine the wound, and again he lept away from her. “Discord, please. I saw your blood on the shelf. You might be fine normally, but without your magic it could be serious.”

Discord snarled as if contemplating a snide retort, but slowly relaxed. “I am fine, Twilight. I would seek your assistance if I thought I required it.” Without another word, he turned back around, walking down the hall again.

Twilight wanted to press the matter further, but given Discord’s current mood, it seemed best to leave him. Just as she was about to walk away, he tripped, catching himself before walking off again. Twilight’s heart jumped at the display of weakness.

Equestria knows that she wouldn’t want to appear weak to anypony. That had gotten into a tight spot more than once. Discord? Well, he had all the more reason to hide it and pretend to be fine. Being one of the best actors Twilight had met, he shouldn’t have any problem doing that. For him to slip up like that . . . Sorry, Spike, but there’s no way he’s faking it, not this time.


Ever since she had been a filly, there remained a kind of unspoken rule in their family about going to bed with unresolved issues. Shining Armor always made it a point to “set the record straight” before calling it a night, even after their worst fights. Twilight longed to have such resolve come to her as easily as it did to him but it rarely did.

Lying on her bed, she withdrew the piece of parchment, resting it flat against the covers. Throughout the day, she had skirted around the elephant in the room. Now, ignoring it proved impossible. One letter, one simple letter to Celestia. In the course of a few hours, that prospect had morphed into some kind of dreaded assignment.

Crunch time had come at last. Sighing, she raised her quill in her magic and began to write.

‘Dear Princess Celestia,

I’m afraid I some bad news.’

Twilight snorted. Understatement of the century.

‘As you are well aware, I have been studying Tirek’s magic intensively. I already told you about the spell I developed to mimic his magic and my attempts at a reflection spell.’

Her mind drifted back to yesterday evening and the blood this morning. Shuddering, she turned her attention back to the parchment.

‘Discord thought it would be funny to use the spell on me. I reflected it with the half-finished spell and it managed to drain his magic. Apparently he still has magic, but it’s nothing close to what it’s supposed to be. I hoped the effects would have worn off by now, but they haven’t. Also,’

She paused, taking a long, collected breath.

‘the force from the spell threw him into a shelf. From the blood, it seems like a deep wound, but I can’t get him to let me examine it. He keeps saying it’s okay, but I’m starting to worry.

I need your advice.

Sincerely,

—Twilight Sparkle’

That should do it. Twilight was halfway to the door when she paused, the letter still held fast in her magic. Sending the letter would be admitting not only to herself, but to Celestia that she was incapable of handling a magical mishap she caused. Then there was Discord’s injury. What kind of Princess of Friendship slams her friend into a bookshelf?

Her legs grew weak at the thought of disappointing Celestia. Her eyes fell to the letter once more. Would it hurt to put off sending it for a little while? After all, though Discord had lost his magic, he claimed to feel fine. That little slip . . . well, it could have been anything. No need to worry Celestia over something so trivial. After all, given a few days and some intense research, she would have everything sorted out like usual. Placing the letter in her dresser, she crawled back into bed. It would work out, it always did.


Celestia lay on the dias, allowing her hooves to dangle above the sprawling garden below. Though, that was of little consequence tonight. Tonight, the only view she needed was her sister’s nightly display. Her nights paled in comparison to its radiance. That added to the moon without her sister’s mark made it all the more mesmerizing.

For the first time in centuries, the night sky relaxed her. Now, it did not seem so strange to rest under the stars and think about how far they had come, how far they had fallen . . . Celestia shuddered, remembering Tirek’s rampage. If not for Twilight, all of Equestria would have been lost. All because of him.

Still . . . she could not be angry, not really. Not after what she had done to him. What she did was far, far worse than anything he could ever do to her. The stars swam together as she contemplated the irony. I treated him the same as you, dear sister. Perhaps his betrayal was my punishment after all.

Celestia shook the thought away. I don’t need this right now. Leave the past in the past, it is better that way. Remembering it would only cause unnecessary pain.

Chapter Four — Reality Check

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Not surprisingly, Twilight’s library contained no books on power draining magic. The closest, found jammed in the corner of a pocket spell handbook involved a kind of temporary paralysis spell employed by security guards in cities like Manehattan. Though Twilight made careful notes for its future use, knowing the spell brought her no closer to her goal.

Twenty books in and she already felt like calling it quits. Beyond her own personal observations, there was no indication that such a spell could even be performed. Yet, here she sat, pouring over book after book to remedy the effects of a spell that should never have existed in the first place.

Her eyes fell to her “helper,” watching him turn a few innocent office supplies against each other in a mock battle. The pencils had overran the notebook fort, but the quills were raising up some resistance. Twilight shook her head, trying to ignore the fact that she had just tried to analyze some of Discord’s magic.

“Fascinating, is it not?”

Already annoyed, Twilight tried to ignore his snide grin. “Fascinating,” she said in her most sarcastic tone. They were the first words either of them had spoken since breakfast, and they lingered in the air like stale hay jerky. As it soaked in, another, almost surreal realization dawned. For the first time since the accident, he didn’t seem mad, just his usual obnoxious self. Why should she be angry at him for that? Given the situation, she was the last pony who had the right to cast judgement upon him. “So . . . why are they fighting?”

Discord raised an eyebrow, “Why does anypony fight? Territory, love, honor,” his tone grew playful, “rights to the top drawer of the file cabinet.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Don’t underestimate the determination of writing utensils, Twilight.” Though he had a mock serious tone, his broad smile ruined the effect.

Twilight opened her mouth to say something, but paused as a pair of pencils started to ruthlessly rip the feathers off of a particularly valuable eagle feather quill. The minute scream of agony made her skin crawl. “Discord, aren’t they getting a little too . . . lifelike?” she cautioned.

“Nonsense, they . . .” Discord trailed off as the pencils waved the writing point of their victim like a macabre trophy. “Yes, I suppose so.” With a snap of his paw, the supplies fell down as if struck by some death ray. Another snap returned them all to the top drawer of the nearest file cabinet. “A pity, I did want to see how it turned out.”

“Uh-huh.” For a moment, she watched Discord scoop up the books and place them manually back on the shelves. Granted, he got their locations wrong, but he had not used a single spell to shelf them. Nothing, just his hands. When he finished, he turned to her with a decided, ‘What are you looking at?’ expression. “Sorry, Discord, just . . . I’ve never seen you . . . well, you know.”

“Know what?”

“Actually pick up after yourself.” She held up her hooves for emphasis. “Like normal.”

Another awkward silence, then he snorted dismissively. “Really?” He walked the floor, hands behind his head. “Just because I choose to dazzle you ponies with my magic doesn’t mean I’m incapable of physical labor.”

Labor?’ That’s being a touch generous, don’t you think? Twilight shrugged, tossing a spell book at him with her magic.

He caught it in his talon, a sour look on his face. “What?”

“It’s a book.” She shot him a playful smile, “Try reading it instead of goofing off.”

Another, sour glare, then he tossed the book back onto the cushions. “Your precious books aren’t getting us anywhere,” he spat.

“They’re the best lead we have to fixing this mess.”

“Who says we need to fix it?” Discord waved his arms around the library. “Not everything can be solved through magic.”

She pinned her ears. “Oh, really? This coming from the Spirit of Chaos. You practically breathe magic, Discord!”

Discord only stared at her, eyes wide as if coming to some sudden realization. “I-I can get on fine with minimal magic, at least for the time being.” He pointed an accusatory finger at her, “You haven’t given the spell enough time to dissipate. Give it a week or so, and then we’ll worry about our options.”

Twilight’s limbs began to shake as the blood rushed to her ears. What’s wrong with him? “Why are you being so casual about this? Do you like having your magic drained? Do you want to be stuck like this forever? Why won’t you let me help you?”

“Oh, now you want to help me!” Discord rounded on her, standing on four legs and leaning in so close she could feel the heat of his breath against her coat. “Where have you been lately, huh? Every time I come to be a ‘good boy’ and learn about friendship, you just up and dismiss me,” he snapped loudly into her ear, “like that.”

“I—”

“You what? Oh, you’re too busy? Yes, I suppose chatting with your girlfriends and organizing books is more important than spending a few minutes just talking to me.” He snarled, breathing heavily now. “And then you blame me when I can’t understand ‘simple’ aspects of friendship. It’s not easy for me, Twilight, it’s not!”

His words echoed around the library, dispelling every ounce of confidence she held on to. “I—”

“No! You know what? I’ve had enough of this!” With a loud crack and a cloud of stale smoke, Discord vanished.

Twilight fell to the floor, quivering. Once again, she said the exact wrong words, hurting him even worse than before. Friendship should not come this hard. She closed her eyes, fighting back the urge to cry. How? How did I miss it?


Discord felt the spell slow, allowing his surroundings to come into focus. What had been the library floor became a carpet of grass at the base of the crystal castle. His breaths came out short and painful as the blood rushed to his ears.

I didn’t know,’ eh? Ignorant, the lot of them. What did they care to learn of suffering of sacrifice . . . of loneliness? Ignorance is comfortable, as easy as breathing. Understanding? Well, that is painful and comes at a price. They acknowledge and even accept their choice and he supposed he could understand their reasoning. But those who never sought understanding had no right to claim it.

He leaned against the cold base of the castle, grateful for the soothing effect it had on his back. Despite dressing the wound carefully, it still stung with the slightest movement. Slowly, reluctantly, he let the anger leave him. Holding onto it could only cause old habits to resurface, better to release such musings as they came.

Twilight’s words came back to him, persistent as the sunlight now beating down on Ponyville. ‘Why won’t you let me help you?’

Because you fail to see, Twilight. Because the only reason you wish to help me is out of guilt, shame, and fear of Celestia finding out. Do not think me as oblivious as the others . . . I have lived too long to revel in ignorance.

Discord looked out at Ponyville, watching the smiling faces and wishing he could gather some semblance of joy from them. Those masks behind which dwelled the darker side of life. Oh, they hid it well enough, but it came out like the steady drip of a leaky faucet.

Twilight had either never noticed or chose to ignore the scathing remarks, their halfway glances, their disgusted scowls whenever he walked down the street. What she likely dismissed as curiosity he knew to be fear and hatred. And it would fester as long as he continued to screw up this reformation of his. It would not register with his friends because it did not concern them.

It would never concern them. That simple truth stung worse than any dagger to the chest. Did they know how difficult it was for him to ‘fit in’? How it felt to have their life defined by past mistakes? Did they even care that he spent every day struggling to prevent the unrelenting loneliness from consuming him? Why was spending a few minutes of in their company so much to ask?

A mechanical clatter broke the trance like a machine being tossed into the castle. Come to think of it, that’s what it sounded like. Discord got to his feet, walking towards the disturbance. Despite the growing crescendo, his pace did not alter. If he tarried long enough, there might be something interesting waiting for him upon arrival.

Sure enough, when he rounded the corner, he found a pink filly with an obnoxiously self-important smirk holding up what remained of a scooter in hoof. Her lackey, a grey earth pony was strong hoofing a white unicorn to the ground. The other two, Applejack’s sister and Scota-something or other were shooting daggers at the tiara-clad filly.

Discord almost laughed. Looks like a Meximane standoff . . . Though he approved of a little teasing as it did make for more independent kids, he did not agree with playing dirty. And this filly sure knew how to play dirty.

“Make a move, Scoota-poo and your stupid scooter’s history,” she sneered, waving the contraption closer to the castle’s wall for emphasis. The poor scooter already looked like it had been smashed against it a few times.

Apple Bloom, at least he thought that was her name, puffed out her chest. “That’s enough! Give it back, Diamond.”

“Yeah, eets not yooors,” came a muzzle cry from the pinned down unicorn.

The pegasus lept towards her, trying to snatch the scooter, but Diamond dodged.

“What’s wrong, Scoota-poo? Can’t catch me? Why don’t you just fly over and get it that way?” Diamond gave a mock gasp of surprise, sneering evilly back at her. “Oh, I forgot, you can’t, can you?”

Discord had had enough. Stretching his wings, he flew over to them.


There had never been a time Apple Bloom wanted to kick Diamond Tiara senseless quite so bad. As if her usual “blank flank” taunts were not enough, she had once again gone after Scootaloo’s insecurity. Just as she made a move towards her, a familiar and extremely unexpected shape sped past to stand behind Diamond. Discord?

Discord raised a finger to his mouth, looking at them, a slight grin on his face. Taking it as a symbol to keep quiet, she winked, pretending not to notice. Completely oblivious to the situation, Diamond continued as though nothing were out of place.

He clucked disapprovingly. “My, my, my, what do we have here?”

Diamond turned slowly, just like those mares in horror movies. Her eyes grew wide, then narrowed. “None of your buisness, freak,” she spat before returning to Scootaloo.

Apple Bloom’s knees knocked together as Discord landed with a thud on all fours, bristling until he appeared twice his usual size. His wings crackled as they gradually grew out until they cast huge shadows over Diamond.

The air grew stale and dry, as if brought forth from an abandoned well. Discord’s features grew steadily more animalistic, teeth and claws lengthening to wicked points. Even his fur seemed to grow longer and, if possible, wilder. A low, primal snarl sounded from deep in his throat, setting even Diamond back a step, shivering. “I suggest you drop that, girl. Unless,” he lowered his head, eyes flashing menacingly, “you’d prefer a practical lesson in on why bullying is wrong.”

That was all it took. Diamond dropped the scooter as if it were a viper, Discord catching it just before it hit the ground. Without a second’s hesitation, Diamond started galloping headlong towards town, Silver Spoon hot on her heels. The sight brought a triumphant smirk to Apple Bloom’s face particularly when a distant, “Father will hear about this, beast,” could be heard as their attackers fled. Yer Daddy can’t do anythin’ to stop Discord.

Now that they were gone, Apple Bloom turned to Discord, smile slowly vanishing. His scary glowing eyes continued to focus on them, remaining in that unnaturally feral form. Though she did not know him personally, she had heard enough about him.

Though every filly and colt in their school had been taught about what he did in the past, they were told he had reformed. So why did he keep staring at them like that? Is he mad at us too? They all took a conscientious step back.

Discord suddenly shook himself like a dog as a ripple of magic went through him, changing him back to normal in a heartbeat. “Well, that was fun.” After a chuckle, he held up the scooter, running a talon across it’s now cracked hoof board. “Hmmm.” He turned to them, a gentle smile replacing his former intimidating snarl. “Soooo, who owns this?” Curiosity quickly replaced Apple Bloom’s fear. Was he joking or did he really want to give the scooter back?

They stared blankly back at him for a while longer. Then, Scootaloo took a cautious step forward, ears lowered submissively. “Er . . . it’s mine.”

Discord walked over, and they flinched. But, he simply got down on his knees lowering the scooter to the ground. Then with a snap that sounded closer to a whipcrack, the scooter repaired itself completely.

Scootaloo’s eyes lit up as she quickly snatched the scooter. Then, as an afterthought, “Uhm . . . thank you?”

“You're welcome,” he said, still smiling softly.

Did he just help us out? Apple Bloom took a few steps forward, “Thanks, Discord. That was amazin’!”

“She totally deserved that,” Sweetie Belle squeaked.

“No problem at all, little fillies.” Discord sat down in front of the wall, leaning against it with a sigh. “Whats up with her anyway?”

Hmmm. Throwing caution to the wind, she trotted over, sitting in front of him. If the casual, almost conversational air about him was anything to go by, Discord meant no harm. He don’t seem so bad to me . . . “She’s always like that. Thinkin’ she’s better ‘an everypony else, just ‘cause she’s got rich parents. An, she’s always botherin’ us for not havin’ our cutie marks,” she added bitterly.

“Yeah!” Sweetie chimed in, joining her on the grass.

“Hmmm. Sounds like she’s quite the pest,” Discord murmured, stroking his beard absent-mindedly.

“Eeeyup.” Realizing she sounded like her brother, she added quickly, “I mean, we could have handled it on our own, but, you saved us a lot of trouble. We’re real grateful, aren’t we, girls?”

To her surprise and annoyance, Sweetie Belle said nothing and Scootaloo remained frozen in place. Urgh. She put a hoof on Discord’s paw, “Well, I’m real grateful.”

Discord’s eyes widened, “I-I uh . . . you’re welcome.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Scootaloo added, finally inching over to them. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Discord. “Why’d you bother helping us out? Don’t you have important chaos stuff to do or something.”

Discord raised an eyebrow, “Important ‘chaos stuff’?”

“You know, like turning houses upside down and terrorizing towns and stuff.”

Sweetie Belle shot Apple Bloom an ‘Is she serious?’ look. Apple Bloom sighed, “Scoots, he’s reformed he don’t do that anymore.” Then, another thought occurred to her. What did he do now that he was reformed? “You workin’ for Celestia or somethin’ Discord?”

“I er . . . no.” Discord avoided their gaze, clasping his talon over his chest. For the first time since he came, Apple Bloom noticed a thick bandage wrapped around his midsection. She gasped, “You ain’t hurt or somethin’?”

“No-not really. Just had a magical mishap with Miss Goody Two Hooves.” He jerked a nod towards the castle.

Sweetie Belle frowned, “What kind of mishap?”

“Well,” he gritted his teeth, looking away, “nothing major, my magic’s a touch out of whack, that’s all.”

“A touch out of whack?” Scootaloo eyed her prized possession with a frown, “But you fixed my scooter okay . . .”

He dismissed the thought with a wave of his paw. “Yes, well, that’s basic magic. Any unicorn could do that.”

“Oh.” Apple Bloom tried to think of something else to say, then the idea came to her. “Hang on! Yer here for a while, right?”

“Unfortunately.”

She lept to her hooves, “Why don’t you go crusadin’ with us? You’ve probably got plenty of ideas we ain’t even thought of yet.”

“Crusading for cutie marks?”

“Yup!” Sweetie Belle chimed, jumping to her own hooves now. “It’ll be a lot more fun with you around. Scoots?”

Scootaloo cuffed the grass, looking away, “Yeah, sure, whatever. Let’s just get going.”

Discord smiled broadly. “Well then, count me in!”

As they made their way into town, Apple Bloom had high hopes that today they just might earn their cutie marks after all.


“Soooo, guess weed remover’s off the list,” Apple Bloom remarked as she plucked yet another burr from her tail. The minor grimy spots and burrs she had were nothing compared to the thick coating of mud they were all sporting like war paint.

“Urgh! What make you think weed remover was a good idea, Apple Bloom?” Scootaloo snarled, trying without success to remove a large dirt clod from her mane. “And you,” she turned to Discord who happened to be standing next to Apple Bloom. “Why didn’t you say something about the mud pit before we fell in?”

Discord rolled his eyes, “This might come as a shock to you kids, but I’m not omniscient!”

“You’re not?” Sweetie Belle looked genuinely put out.

“No! Why in Equestria would you think that?”

“Er . . .” Apple Bloom could have mentioned all the stories Applejack had about him popping up at the exact worst time. That and he seemed to know way more than anypony had a right to.

Scootaloo scoffed, “Duh, I knew that. But, you’re waaay taller than us.”

He barked a laugh that reverberated around the patch of trees like thunder. “Point taken. So, you kids ready for an actually decent idea?”

“Well, I dunno . . .” Joining the Spirit of Chaos for a ‘decent idea’ sounded like a very bad plan.

Her friends exchanged nervous glances, but to Apple Bloom’s surprise, Sweetie stepped forward. “Okay. Anything’s better than Apple Bloom’s ideas.”

“Hey! Mine ain’t that bad. Girls?” She watched them start forward, leaving her behind.

Discord turned his head back to her, “You coming or what?”

“Yeah.”

They continued in relative silence, with the occasional joke from Discord which somehow always got them to laugh no matter how stupid it was. Apple Bloom grew a bit suspicious as they began winding their way through the orchard. They stopped at last by the pond. “We goin’ to work on our lifeguard cutie marks or somethin’?”

Without warning or ceremony, Apple Bloom felt herself being lifted by the scruff of the neck and tossed headlong into the pond. The cold water shocked her senses long enough that she didn’t notice Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo plummeting into the water beside her.

An ensuing splash indicated that Discord had joined them. “And we did it.”

“Did what,” Scootaloo grumbled, looking practically murderous. “It’s still spring. The water’s freezing!”

Discord rolled his eyes, swimming lazily away, “Please, it’s not ‘freezing,’ just a little chilly.”

“A lit-little chil-chilly?” Sweetie Belle managed through chattering teeth.

“Yes, well . . . we had to get the mud off somehow. And, who knows, maybe you can get your ‘polar bear’ cutie marks or something.”

“That’s not even a cutie mark!” Scootaloo attempted to splash Discord which resulted in his tail striking the water so hard that they were hit with a wave.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he jeered, swimming away.

Now that they were wet, it seemed stupid not to swim. A splash war with Discord ensued and they soon forgot all about the initial temperature shock. After about forty minutes of swimming around like idiots, they crawled over to the bank and collapsed.

Scootaloo waved her hoof feebly in the air. “I . . . think . . . we . . . won.”

“I don’t know about that.” Discord chuckled, reclining on the nearest patch of grass. “Have fun?”

They looked at each other for a moment. At first, she thought it would be horrible, but, they had enjoyed themselves. She turned back to Discord, jerking a nod.

Sweetie Belle groaned, attempting to magic some water out of her mane. “How’s this supposed to help us get our cutie marks, Discord?”

“It’s not.”

Apple Bloom felt her heart skip a beat. “But you said you had a better idea for cutie mark huntin’.”

Discord tisked, fidgeting with the now loose bandages around his chest. “I said no such thing, Apple Bloom. I said I had an actually decent idea. I never specified what it was for.”

“What?” Apple Bloom shot to her hooves, stamping them into the dirt, “But earlier you said you’d help us with our cutie mark huntin’.”

“I am helping.” Discord stopped his attempt at tightening the bandages to smile back at them. “You just spent almost an hour not worrying one bit about your cutie marks. And you had some fun in the process.”

“But how’s that goin’ to help anythin’?”

Discord frowned, “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” Sweetie Belle practically moaned.

“That obsessing over cutie marks isn’t going to get you anywhere. What is,” he gestured to all of them, “is just relaxing.”

“Relaxing?”

“Yes.” He stood shaking off some of the water. “You see, I’ve lived a long time, girls, a very long time and I can tell you that no solution ever came from obsessing over the problem.”

“But we need our cutie marks.”

Discord barked a laugh. “I don’t have a cutie mark, do I? I haven’t dropped dead yet.”

Apple Bloom stared blankly at him. “Well . . . no . . .”

He knelt down, gathering them in his arms. “Listen, I know you want to find your place in the world, but running yourselves ragged doesn’t do you any good. You’ll find your place, give it time.”

With a loud clap, he teleported a few feet away. “Now, let’s enjoy the rest of the afternoon.”

Sweetie Belle trotted up to him, “What are we doing next?”

Discord winked, “That is for me to know and you to find out . . .”


An entire day spent in the company of three rambunctious fillies might be considered torture to some creatures, but Discord saw it as inspiring. Adapting to the situation came so naturally to children that he no longer wondered if they would come around to him but when. In a matter of hours, the girls had not only accepted him, but had come to consider him “one of the gang.” Even Scootaloo warmed up to him after a time.

After their swimming lesson, they had taken turns suggesting activities that weren’t centered around crusading. His personal favorite had been Scoots’ highway bandits game which proved to be delightfully chaotic. After crawling in the dirt with his fellow “sheriff” Sweetie Belle, they had managed to sneak behind the others and reclaim the treasure for themselves. River rocks really did make excellent substitutes for bits.

The sky had already turned a deep red by the time they collapsed on the clubhouse floor. Discord leaned against the wall, admiring the cheerful colors, posters, and sloppily written “creeds” tacked all over the place. The little corner of Rainbow Dash posters, trophies, and banners resembled a shrine. Please, she’s not that great. However, the treehouse, unlike the castle was messy and felt completely welcoming.

“So, is that it for the day?” Sweetie Belle asked in a slightly hopeful tone.

“I think so.” Apple Bloom walked slowly over to his corner by the door. “Anythin’ else, Discord?”

Why are you asking me? He shook his head, keenly aware of how stiff it felt. “Call it a day, it’s getting late.”

Scootaloo stood, limping over to the podium and smacking the gavel against it. “This session of the Cutie Mark Crusaders is officially adjourned.”

Discord got slowly to his feet, catching himself on the wall. For the past few hours, his vision had become annoyingly blurred. Despite his irritation with Twilight, he looked forward to heading back to the castle for some rest. Yes, rest, that’s all he needed right now.

He staggered out into the cool evening air. Looking over the railing proved a mistake as the ground appeared to grow further and further away. Grimacing, he took a few steps back, unfortunately, he hit the end of the boards, toppling over the opposite railing.

Discord had always been quick on his feet, and, if he had not been so dazed he probably would have caught himself before his back slammed hard into the unrelenting earth. For an instant, it did not hurt and he thought perhaps he had avoided any serious damage.

Then came the searing agony. It sent ripples to every inch of his body. He wanted to cry out, but the wind seemed to have been knocked out of him and it was all he could do to force himself to breathe. So he lay there, eyes shut tight and waited until he felt like moving. Eventually the pain started to catch up to the shock, adding that to the mix. The girls cantered over, probably shouting something, but they might have well been whispering inside a fish bowl for all the good it did.

Urgh. My head . . . Slowly, reluctantly, he opened his eyes. Trying to sit up resulted in a sudden nausea. He leaned over, throwing up a bit of bile and of all things blood.

That set the girls into an almost fit of hysteria only magnifying his already building headache. “Girls, calm down, I-I’m fine.”

Apple Bloom pranced nervously in front of him. “Should I get Applejack or Big Mac or—”

“Apple Bloom, I’m fine.” He put his paw on her shoulders, pushing himself to his feet. “I’m fine.”

Before they could mollycoddle him further, he snapped, teleporting the furthest away he could which happened to be the outskirts of the Apple Orchard. Pathetic.

Groaning, he set off towards Ponyville, more reluctantly than he had left it. Trying to ignore the pain proved easier said than done. Each step sent what felt like hundreds of needle pricks through his back, settling in the wound. In no time at all, a slight limp replaced his usual, swaggering step. This was going to be a very long walk . . .


Discord knew something wasn’t right the moment he stepped foot inside the castle. For one, his eyes did not adjust to the light and for another, he nearly vomited again as the entire world seemed to come out of focus. Thankfully, he made it to his room without any unwelcome interruptions from Twilight.

After settling on the bed, he began to unwrap the bandages. His heart did a somersault as his paw met with a warm sticky substance. Sure enough, a large portion of the formerly white bandages were dyed a sickening red.

Discord turned to see the damage, nearly starting at the steady stream still emanating from the wound. It did not appear life threatening, but that did little to help his nausea. A firm application of pressure eventually stopped it, but he still found his hands shaking.

A small voice in the back of his head sounded, ‘Relax, Discord, ponies get hurt like this all the time, and they do just fine.’ Yes, but they were not beings of chaos and magic. I don’t bleed like this, I just don’t . . . Why had he not healed by now? Surely the effects of one foolish spell could not last so long. And yet, the proof lay before him on the bloody rags.

He groaned, trying to re-bandage it to little success. Every few seconds, his quivering hands would drop the roll. The longer he stared at the cut, the more panic swept over him. After a few frustrating minutes, he finished, resting his head on the covers.

Exhaustion. Complete and total surrender of willpower. An unfamiliar, unwelcome experience. No ordinary spell could do this to him, and undoubtedly, no ordinary cure would work. Twilight had been right after all, time would not solve this. That left one nagging question yet to be answered. What would?


Chapter Five — Of Curses and Complications

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Spike poked at his oatmeal with all the enthusiasm of a prison inmate. Unfortunately, that came rather close to the truth. Upon Twilight’s request, he had grudgingly allowed Discord to make breakfast. Needless to say, his culinary attempts fell flat. He still could not fathom why the Spirit of Chaos wanted to make breakfast in the first place if not to torment him.

This whole fiasco with Discord losing his powers just felt wrong. Despite his and Twilight’s claims that they were working out the solution, he could not help but wonder. Lying his way out of any situation seemed programed in Discord’s brain. Twilight shouldn’t be so worried about someone like him anyway. A powerful draconequus couldn’t possibly be that drastically affected by a simple rebounded spell. He’s doing it for attention like he always does.

Sitting across from Discord at the table, Spike could clearly see the bandages wound just as thick around his abdomen as the first day. Every so often, Discord would run his talon carefully along his back and wince. For a moment, he entertained the possibility that he could actually be telling the truth. Come on, Spike, as if he’d be hiding that. Knowing him, he’d make a big deal about it if he had.

Shaking the thought away, he upturned his spoon, watching the greyish mush cling to its surface like half-dried concrete. After forcing himself to chisel out a few additional spoonfuls, he decided to save his hands and teeth the trouble. Judging from Discord’s zoned out expression, he wouldn’t be offended by the gesture. “Er, thanks for breakfast, Discord. I’m going to check on Twi now.”

Halfway across the kitchen, he was stopped by Discord’s magic grabbing at his foot. He hopped around to face him, “What now?”

Discord got to his feet, walking slowly over to his position on the crystal floor. “Instrument.” The word snapped in the otherwise empty room.

“Come again?”

Discord rubbed his temple with a claw, “Do you play one or not?”

An instrument? Spike closed his eyes, trying to think of a single time he had so much as held one. “Er, well, no . . .”

“Hmmm.” He tapped his chin as if lost in thought. “You—no, that won’t work either . . .”

“What are you—”

“You can sing?”

Spike grimaced at the thought of his ‘performance’ in the Equestria games. “No. Not in the least.”

“Drat.”

“Discord? What’s this all about?”

Ignoring him completely, Discord began to pace the sunlit kitchen with all the air of a stratitician. Then, his face lit up as he flew over to him once more. “I’ve got it! You’ll be our tambourine man.”

“Tambour-what now?” Why do I have a bad feeling about this? “Who’s ‘our’ Discord?”

“Our band.”

Spike facepalmed, “A band? Seriously? Why?”

“Because, simpleton, there are more ways to break a spell than a spell.”

Huh? He could only stare blankly back at him until his still groggy brain put the pieces together. “Oh! You’re trying to fix Twilight's spell by using music?”

“Indeed.”

“Why?”

Discord waved his hands in the air. “Oh, come on! You can’t be that dumb.”

“I’m not dumb!”

“Well then, tell me when music was used offensively by Twilight to break a spell?”

Offensively? “Nev—Hang on! The sirens. Twilight and the girls used music to stop them.”

Discord jerked a nod, releasing Spike from his magical grip. “And we have a winner! So, now that you’ve figured out what should have been obvious from the start, are you going to help or not?”

“Sure, I guess. But we really don’t need a band, just some ponies to sing.”

“Hmmm. Point taken. Do you know of any?”

“Well . . . Big Mac sings and his buddy does too. Maybe they can help?”

He nodded slowly, eyes drifting to the door. “Twilight does as well . . . Perhaps I should speak with her too. Fetch the others for me.”

Spike considered refusing his demand for a moment, but started to think it over. The girls had hogged all the fun last time with the band. Maybe being in the band would Besides, he had admittedly been a touch jealous when the girls got to have all the fun with the band. “Sure, beats reading boring old books any day.”

“There’s the spirit!” Discord steered him out of the kitchen with his paw. Soon they were standing by the front entrance.

After stepping forward, he did an about face. “What about Fluttershy? She sings really well too.” There was no way he’d forget her.

Discord looked away, chuckling almost sheepishly. “Well, I wouldn’t want to concern my Flutterbuddy with something so trivial. Besides, she doesn’t like singing in front of others.”

“Uh-huh.” More like you don’t want her around to see your screw up . . . “Meet in the library?” Spike added.

He gave a mischievous smile, “Perfect.”

“Later then.” Spike quickly retreated before he got roped into another of Discord’s errands. As he made his way through the early morning mist, he could not help but feel excited. For once, he would get to be part of the solution rather than the neutral observer.


Once Spike left the room, Discord limped over to the wall. The cool stones numbed some of the searing pain, but not all of it. He assumed after a good night’s rest, his energy would return. However, if anything Discord felt even more tired and weak than he had last night. To compound matters, an irritating nausea had set in, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything productive.

Despite his best attempts at easing the borderline vertigo, the world continued to twist and turn around him. Groaning, he sunk to the floor, covering his head in his hands. Dammit . . . I need help. Though, admitting it and taking action were separate matters entirely. At the very least, he should probably lie down.

He snapped, expecting the familiar tug of teleportation magic to kick in. Nothing. Again and again he snapped, but he might as well have been a clapping circus seal for all the good it did him. His eyes widened, heart beginning to pound against his ribcage faster and faster. This is bad . . . really, really bad.

Why couldn’t he perform a simple transportation spell? He had done it yesterday after all. There had to be more too it than that. His transportation yesterday had been weak as well, hardly carrying him any significant distance. That coupled with his entirely non-functioning magic meant that his symptoms were getting worse at an alarming rate. This was no ordinary rebounded spell, but a curse.

I need to tell Twilight. Discord got to his feet, nearly toppling over at the onslaught of disorientation. If I can make it there in one piece . . . With all the grace and balance of a drunkard, he made progress towards the library.

If something eventful happened on the walk, it did not register with him. Every ounce of focus he retained went to staying upright. Come on! By the time he arrived at the library, his back ached so badly he wondered if he might faint. Deep breaths, Discord. Relax. A panic attack was the last issue he wanted to deal with. Perhaps he should rest first, then—no, he needed to talk to her. If he did not speak now, he might not have the courage to do so later. Or—a chill ran through his spine—there might not be a later.


Twilight had found herself second guessing her original strategy. Hours of research for three days had left her with nothing more than a headache. Discord’s right, magic’s not getting us anywhere. Maybe I should . . . no . . . he’s mad at me right now. And that's what I deserve after I ignored him for so long . . . Her stomach churned with the unwelcome guilt.

She let out a long slow breath to collect herself. At the very least, she could take his suggestion and wait it out, spending some time with him as she should have done from the getgo.

A familiar sentence returned to the forefront of her mind. ‘It’s not easy for me, Twilight, it’s not!’. . . He’s right . . . but it should be. Her mind went back to all the times Discord had shown up. Each time she had acted annoyed to see him, no matter the situation.

In fact, she could not think of a single time she had been honestly happy to have him around. What kind of ‘friend’ was she anyway? Did Discord even view her as a friend? . . . He shouldn't, not really. Or were they both simply slapping the label on out of obligation? Would the others see it that way?

She slammed the book closed, looking outside the window. Plenty more hours left in the day, hours she could use to finally make good on her promise to Discord. I’m not going to be some nominal friend, I’m not! I can change how it is now, and I will.

Just as she started to the door, it swung open and Discord walked in. Only, he didn’t quite walk . . . staggered would have been closer to the truth. Judging from the way he tottered back and forth, was extremely disoriented. Twilight flinched when he stumbled. When it happened a second time, she rushed over to him, sliding to stop just shy of his deer leg. “Discord? What’s wrong? What happened to you?”

He sank to the floor, sprawling out and even shaking a little. A undeniable, yet foreign panic filled his eyes. “I-I can’t use my magic. Don’tknowwhat’swrong,” he slurred.

She knelt beside him, trying to make eye contact, but he did not seem to recognize her. “Can’t use your magic? What do you mean?”

“I can’t transport, I can hardly do basic unicorn magic. And it’s getting worse!” His voice cracked, “Why’s it getting worse? What’s happening? It’s a curse, isn’t it? You cursed me.”

Twilight reached out, but hesitated, before starting to stroke his coat. The rapid pounding of his heart made her flinch. “Discord, I didn’t curse you. Why would I curse you? You’re . . .” My friend Her own heart lurched at the possible implications of a curse. Had she cursed him? Certainly not intentionally, but anything was possible, wasn’t it? “Calm down first and tell me what’s happened. Can you do that?” she said soothingly.

Discord nodded, gritting his teeth as if trying to calm himself. “I felt weak when the spell hit, but I brushed it off as an after-effect,” he took a deep breath, before continuing, “I thought it would-would get better . . .”

“But it hasn’t?” She breathed, still gently stroking his side.

His gaze fell to the floor. “No. Every day I grow more lethargic and dull. My magic isn’t coming as I call it, or doing as I command. It’s hardly worked at all today! I could barely cast a holding spell.” he managed, through an almost frantic panting .

Seriously? The blood rushed to her ears. The Spirit of Chaos couldn’t use magic? He was practically made of magic, wasn’t he? “So-so you can’t use your magic at all right now?”

Discord shook his head, resting it gently on the crystal. “I do not have the strength to try.”

That can’t just be from the spell. “Strength? What do you mean?”

“I’m tired . . . Fell out of the treehouse playing with the kids yesterday.”

“WHAT? Are you okay?”

“I told you I am not, didn’t I?”

Twilight grimaced, placing a hoof to his forehead. He’s burning up! “Discord, you’ve got a bad fever. That’s probably why you’re so dizzy.”

He released a long slow breath, closing his eyes. “Sooo tired.”

“I need to get you some medicine,” she squeaked, getting to her hooves and charging out of the library. Please be okay, please be okay.


Twilight knew next to nothing about the medical treatment of non-pony species, but she assumed that it had to at least follow the basic principles. As far as she knew, it had worked for Spike. After forcing Discord to drink a fever-reducing potion, he agreed to move over to the corner and lie down.

While he rested under one of her blankets, she drug out just about every book on curses the castle held. They represented the one branch of magic she had next to no knowledge about. Curses were generally attached to objects, and so their study had been relegated to mere historical accounts. The four books resting atop the cushions had to be at least five centuries old. Undaunted, Twilight levitated the first and began to read.

After an hour of intensive study, one section in particular caught her attention.

‘Draining Curses

Whereas most curses are designed to cause immediate and dramatic impact, there are a select few that act quite like poisons. Beings of immense magical prowess or those composed of magic, are virtually immune to most curses. However, as these curses come on at a remarkably reduced speed and intensity, they go undetected. Thus, the target might be living for days or even years without being aware of the curse’s influence. By the time that influence is seen, the window for the cure has often long passed.’

A draining curse? That has to be it! But that means . . . Oh, Celestia! Twilight shot to her hooves, flying over to the still sleeping draconequus. Though his soft breaths came out as gentle purrs, she could not help but shake as she watched his bandaged chest rise and fall. She lay down beside Discord, shaking him gently until he started awake.

Discord regarded her for a moment as if having trouble recognizing her. Then, realization dawned in his eyes. “Twilight? What—do you need something?” he replied with a raspy voice.

Her hoof ran instinctively across his forehead. Still warm. She leaned in closer to listen to his breathing. His warm, sweet breaths, though slow, were at least steady.

“Er . . . Twilight, wha-what are you doing?” Discord’s face had gone red as he stared down into her eyes.

Twilight realized too late that she had nearly pressed her muzzle to his. “Oh, my—sorry! I-I,” she shook her head, they had more important matters to deal with, “you were right, it is a curse.”

Discord nodded, leaning away from her, “Yeees, and what about the solution?”

She gave a long sigh, sitting back on her haunches. “I . . . I don’t know. But, I’m more than certain it’s a draining curse. Sort of builds up over time and,” a lump formed in her throat, “is really dangerous. Once symptoms start it-it’s difficult to slow them.”

Discord stared wide eyed at her. “Sym-symptoms?” His voice began to shake, “Wha-what should we do? I cannot live without my magic, Twilight . . . I just can’t.

What should they do? His symptoms only got worse, and, the book mentioned curses’ cures were specific to the situation in which they were cast. How would they even begin to look for a cure? Before she really understood why, she had wrapped him in a bone crushing hug and buried her muzzle in his mane. “I’m so sorry! It-it’s all my fault.”

Rather than responding or pulling away, Discord cried out. She released him immediately, but there could be no denying the pain filling his eyes. Her blood ran cold. “Discord? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he growled through gritted teeth.

“Like Tartarus! You’re in pain.”

“I’m fine.’

“No you’re not!” Her voice cracked, “Why won’t you let me help you? Don’t you trust me?”

His icy glare said it all. But, she had to know if she was going to help him at all. The salty tears continued to drip into her mouth, but she could care less. “Discord, please, please let me help. What’s wrong? Is it the curse or the cut or—”

“I do not know!” Discord snarled. “It’s the most dammed pain I’ve ever been in, all right?” He leaned in close enough for her to see the tears in his eyes, “I don’t know how to deal with pain, Twilight! What-what do I do?”

Twilight wrapped him in another hug, this time as gentle as she could manage. “We’ll work on the solution together, okay?”

He returned the hug, body quivering like a scared colt’s. “Al-alright.”

With that settled, she let him go and levitated the books to them, settling down on the cushion in front of Discord. He didn’t mind, even scooting a little closer and grabbing a book for himself. After a few minutes of silence, she settled into her usual rhythm though it had become punctuated by the occasional sharp intake of breath from Discord. Twilight grimaced, hooves tightening around the book. I’m so sorry . . . we’ll get through this together, then-then maybe we can start over . . . the right way this time.


Chapter Six — Breakdown

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Words had a funny magic all their own. One minute they could divulge the most fascinating and useful facts and the next be nothing more than a sea of ink drifting on the parchment. Literacy depended largely upon concentration and Discord had precious little of that at present.

His current text—an outdated artifact guide—had some lovely, full color pictures, but its words had become untranslatable hieroglyphics to him. Squinting didn’t help; neither did adjusting the angle. Finally accepting that the nausea and fever had won this round, he closed the book.

Twilight either did not hear or chose not to comment, plowing away at the moldering volume in front of her. He rested his head on the cushions, watching her out of the corner of his eye. How does she stand it? Book after book after book . . .

Discord could not help but smile at the mare’s intense focus on the text. It was a small wonder she had any teeth, considering how hard she gritted them. He chuckled softly to himself. I know you want to help, but don’t give yourself a hernia.

Twilight yawned, pressing her side gently against his paw. Though unconscious, the motion sent a ripple of warmth through his body. Contact. Unpressured, casual contact with another creature. How many centuries had it been?

Fluttershy held his hand and on occasion hugged him, but she never just touched him like this. A small lump formed in his throat as he watched her work, perfectly oblivious to the world around her.

Discord chuffed softly and, to his surprise she twitched, head whirling around to face him. “Are you okay?”

Huh? “Obviously.”

“But you coughed,” she raised a hoof, placing it softly on his forehead. “Your fever’s gone down . . . Could it be another symptom?”

Is she serious? Discord barked a laugh. “I wasn’t coughing.”

“You weren’t? What-what were you doing?”

The question though obvious, struck an uncomfortable chord with him. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like explaining himself at all. “I-I was chuffing, that’s all,” he murmured, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.

“Chuffing? What—”

“It’s kind of like . . . kind of like. . . ” Come on, it’s not that embarrassing, Discord! “Its my version of a nicker I suppose.”

Twilight looked away, a small blush starting. “Oh . . . so that’s what it was.”

Great, now she thinks I was hitting on her. “It wasn’t like that, Twilight. I was just surprised to have someone touch me like it’s not a big deal. It’s—it’s been a long time since anypony’s done that and it felt really nice, okay?”

The embarrassment turned into a small smile and, before he knew it, she had given him a quick hug. “I’m glad I could help. Though,” she gave an unfamiliar, yet undeniably pleasant giggle, “I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”

He chuckled, “That’s what made it so nice.” Leaving her to sift through that information, he turned away, closing his eyes. This might not be his home, but, at that moment, Discord found himself entirely at peace.


A pebbled skipped straight across Main Street, going virtually unnoticed by Ponyville’s cheery populous. Spike kicked another one, shuffling along the dirt strewn path. Two hours wasted meandering around town just to have grumpy rejections chucked at him. Stupid! It’s not my fault you know . . .

He let out a low growl, “What a waste of time . . .” And what did Discord expect anyway? Of course they didn’t want to be in a band with the Spirit of Chaos. Discord had turned all of Ponyville into his personal carnival after all.

His sigh absorbed into the din of the midday market. “Why was I even trying to help him in the first place? He probably just wanted to prank us all in the first place . . . ” Spike sent another pebble skyward, watching it strike the earth and roll lazily towards a familiar side-street. The same street he used as a shortcut to Rarity’s.

Rarity’s huh? Why not stop in for a chat? After all the time he wasted this morning, he might as well spend the rest of the day being useful. At least she valued his assistance and opinions. Making up his mind, he turned down the street, walking towards the Boutique.

Though he tried to focus on what interesting projects Rarity had in store for him, Spike’s thoughts could not help but drift back to Discord. Cranky, annoying, and narcissistic, but, not cruel—not anymore. The nature of his latest request had been borderline freaky coming from him. Perhaps this band represented his attempt at helping Twilight out.

Not likely. These past few days, Discord had been avoiding any sort of “responsibility” in terms of research. His eyes drifted to the castle shimmering like a torch in the daylight. Twilight’s researching like mad and he’s just lazing around. Serves him right to lose his powers. Maybe it’ll teach him a lesson about responsibility or something . . .

He paused outside the Boutique, grinning at the familiar, feminine exterior. It might be unwelcoming to some ponies, but Spike never could get enough of Rarity’s style. As he did every time he visited, he knocked three times and waited.

After about half a minute, he was greeted by the most beautiful eyes in all of Equestria. “Spikey! What a wonderful surprise!” She beamed down at him as if he had brought her a saddlebag full of jewels. “Do come in, darling, do come in.”

Spike followed her into the cool interior of the shop, glancing around the shop. Taking his usual spot across from her on the longue, he began a bit tentatively, “I hope you don’t mind me popping by. It’s just, I was heading home anyway and thought I’d stop in to chat.” He twiddled his thumbs, avoiding her mystifying gaze. “If you have time that is . . .”

“How nice of you to stop by!” A teacup levitated to her lips and she took a long sip before continuing, “You have excellent timing. Why I just came home from the spa not five minutes ago. And,” she shot him a friendly wink, “I have nothing pressing on the agenda today, so we have all the time in the world to chat.”

“Awesome!” Then, realizing his over-exuberance, he cleared his throat. Best to change the subject before it got awkward. “Sooo, how’s that Spring collection coming along? Were you able to finish it?”

“How sweet of you to ask, Spike.” She took another sip. “Yes, I actually just finished the last one yesterday. So I thought I’d treat myself to a day off.” Then, with a light giggle, she placed the tea cup down on the coffee table. “My, my how rude of me. Would you like some tea?”

“Sure! That sounds great.” He took the proffered cup, spinning it in his claws. “Where are you going to present them this time?”

“Hmmm. Well, I wanted to go to Fillydelphia, but I missed the enrollment deadline.” Spike caught the ever so slightly bitter tone in Rarity’s voice. “So it seems I’m returning to Manehattan.”

Spike shook his head, prying his eyes off of the angel before him. “Well, there’s always next season.” He took a long swig from his tea cup, savoring the wonderful, aromatic blend only Rarity could come up with.

Rarity giggled in that enchanting way of hers. “Enough about me. What have you been up to lately?”

Well, at least somepony cares. Spike beamed back, opening his mouth to respond but paused as he remembered what had been going on the last few days. He gritted his teeth, clenching the cup tighter.

Rarity shot him a half-confused, half-worried look. Taking a deep breath, he murmured, “. . . Discord.” That one word was more than enough to sum up the situation.

Her eyes widened as she gasped dramatically. She leaned in closer, raising his chin with a hoof. “That ruffian hasn’t done anything to you, has he?” The worried tone turned to an angry one, “I’ll give him a piece of my—”

“Rarity! He didn’t do anything to me, honest. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Well, what did he do then?”

He sighed, “It’s kind of a long story. I don’t want to bother you with stuff like that . . .”

“Oh, it’s no bother at all, I can assure you. When something is troubling you, I’m always here to listen. Only if you’re comfortable sharing of course . . .” She slid closer, staring pleadingly at him.

The weight of her puppy eyes coupled with her proximity made his heart skip faster. Spike wrung his hands together, trying to pry his gaze from hers. “Errm, yeah, of course. If you really wanna hear about it,” he stuttered slightly.

“Yes, please,” she purred, fluttering her eyelashes.

“O-Okay . . . So basically Discord came to the castle to annoy us with his stupid pranks again.” As if the good-for-nothing draconequus did anything else. “But yeah, when he tried to cast some freaky spell on Twi, she blocked it. Then he ended up losing his magic or something because of the backlash.”

That still registered as far-fetched in his book. “I’m not sure I believe him though . . . What do you think?”

Rarity snorted, suppressing a giggle. “Pff . . . Discord losing his magic?”

Spike found himself chuckling a little himself. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” After a short swig from his tea cup, he continued, “So anyway, now he’s staying at the castle to supposedly research a solution. But, he hardly does anything! And Twi’s been acting really weird.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah, she’s been obsessing over this ‘cure’ as if it’s all her fault. And that’s not the worst bit. Discord got cut up from the spell, and she feels super guilty about that too.”

“Oh no, the poor darling! Working herself up when she’s done nothing wrong . . .” Her jaw tightened, “And that-that demon is totally using her.” She got up very abruptly, stamping a hoof against the floor.

“Woah there, Rarity. Calm down, please,” he soothed. “It . . . I can't say for sure if he's just playing around . . . he might actually be hurt pretty bad. He’s wearing a lot of bandages around his back and always flinches when he touches it. So it could be real.”

Though Rarity looked a little put-out, she gave a thoughtful nod. “I suppose . . .”

Great, now she thinks I’m siding with him. “But, I feel the same way as you do. Twilight shouldn't worry so much over someone like him,” he stated emphatically before draining his cup.

Rarity sat back, releasing a controlled breath. “You’re quite right, Spike. We really shouldn’t allow ourselves to harry ourselves on his account.”

Her gaze fell out the window towards the castle. “Why don’t you talk to twilight about this? Why, she might not even realize the situation herself. I’m certain she’ll listen to you. You are her Number One Assistant, right?”

Emboldened by her encouragement, Spike leapt to his feet. “Yeah, you’re right! I’ll tell her tonight. It’s about time I had my say.” He fist bumped the air before turning back to his confidant, “Thanks, Rarity.”

Rarity stood up as well, giving him a quick hug. “No problem at all, dear. I’m so happy I could help. Do remember that you can tell me anything.” She released him, looking around the room. “What would you say to a little sewing lesson?”

“Uh . . . sure I guess.”

“Excellent. Let’s get you set up then. I’ve got the most excellent beginner’s craft you’ll just love.”

I dunno about that . . . Spike chuckled to himself, following Rarity into the sewing room. At least he would have a productive afternoon, and, when he got home, he’d tell Twilight. Things were finally looking up . . .


Late afternoon sunlight splashed across the crystal floor, transforming the library into a dramatic kaleidoscope of color. Discord groaned, squinting until his eyes adjusted. The uncomfortable warmth against his left side drew his attention. There curled up with her head on an open book, Twilight lay fast asleep.

Discord rolled his eyes. And I thought I was the one with problems . . . “Twilight, Twilight?” Getting an idea, he pressed his muzzle to her side and blew into the floral perfume-laden hairs.

Twilight twitched, blinking awake. “Dis-Discord?” she yawned, stretching out like a cat before giving him a wide-eyed stare. “You’re up.”

“You weren’t,” Discord jeered, prodding her side with his talon. “And I’m not a fencepost you know.”

“Fencepost?” Twilight looked around her, then inched back, face turning red. “Oh, I’m-I’m sorry.”

Since when does she get so easily embarrassed? “I was just teasing you know.”

“Oh, right . . . he, he.”

He made to respond, but stopped when he noticed her legs quivering slightly. For the first time in days, he took a good long look at Twilight. The disheveled mane, her baggy eyes, and the aura of exhaustion she seemed to radiate wrenched at his gut. She’s worrying herself sick over this . . . “Twilight, take a break.”

She looked up from the now levitating book. “I just did.”

“Not a nap. A real and substantial break from research.”

“But we need to stop the curse!”

“I know, believe me I know. But, you’ll never discover the cure running yourself ragged like this.” He snapped his claw in an effort to magic the book from her. The resulting hollow echo made his heart sink.

Twilight grimaced, “Discord . . .”

“It-it’s okay. I’m fine, really,” he choked around the lump in his throat. The pity in her eyes disgusted him. Don’t look at me like that. I’m not worth your pity . . .

He looked away from her, grabbing a book himself. “I know this may come as a shock, but I am literate. It’s your turn to rest. Let me handle this . . .”

“Why don’t we work together?”

He rolled his eyes. “As if you want to work with me on anything.”

“We were doing it earlier!”

“Only because you feel obligated to. . . If you weren’t wallowing in guilt, you’d never even consider it,” he huffed, swishing his tail irritably.

Twilight stayed silent for a minute or more before stating in the smallest voice he ever heard her use, “So that’s why you think I’m doing this? Because I feel guilty?”

Discord slammed the book shut, turning to face her. “Yes! What in the hell would it be otherwise? You never cared about me before, why should I expect you to care now?” He stared into her eyes for a long moment before closing his eyes and looking away. As if she would fess up to anything . . .

“Because we-I . . .” Twilight gulped, focusing on the floor. “I-I don’t know . . .”

“Exactly! And why should you? You’re only the damned Princess of Friendship,” he snapped.

“I . . . I . . .” Twilight’s limbs shook violently as her eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“Well sorry doesn’t cut it!”

Rather than a response, Twilight buried her head in her hooves. Discord’s heart lurched at the small sobs and his anger vanished in an instant. What did I do? He sighed, lowering his voice to a pleading whisper, “If . . . if you really want to know, I guess I can tell you.”

Her ears perked up, but she did not turn to him.

“You know . . . You keep telling me that I’m your friend. But every time you say it . . . the words are hollow . . .” He took a long, slow breath. “You may not understand, Twilight . . . but all of this is and always was incredibly hard for me. And it never got better.

It has nothing to do with my unwillingness to change, Twilight. But,” he sighed heavily, “imagine for a moment what it would be like to throw away everything you’ve believed in for other a thousand years, everything you’ve ever known . . .

And then you suddenly need to do the complete opposite . . . or you will be turned to stone without a moment's hesitation . . .” Discord had to look away then, trying to steady the quivering of his limbs. “But if it were only that . . .”

Blinking away the tears, he tried to stand, but the steady pressure of Twilight’s hoof on his arm made him stay. Discord turned to her, regarding her tear stained face though she still did not meet his gaze. “Please . . .” her voice quivered, fighting the sobs, “Please don’t go . . . please continue.”

The request sounded as if it had taken all her willpower to utter. She breathed another sob away, focusing all the more intently on the floor. “ . . . please.”

Her last word came out so soft, he nearly missed it. As much as he wished to remain distant, Discord felt himself relax. Without really realizing it, he placed his paw across her withers. Releasing a slow slightly quivering sigh. “Alright,” he breathed.

After clearing his throat, he averted his gaze from her once more. “On-on top of that . . . nopony really gave me a chance . . . well, save for Fluttershy. Everyone just judged and hated me for my past mistakes.” His mind flicked back to the townsponies’ cold glances and hushed whispers. “No one even attempted to see that I was trying . . . even you.”

As he finished his sentence, Twilight’s grip on his paw tightened. “Heh, well, I know that—I’ve never been a good friend . . . but no one ever tried to help me learn . . .” He watched her from the corner of his eyes, “Didn’t you have problems too? Didn’t you make mistakes?” What he would not give to do it all over again.

There’s no way out of it now . . . either you finally admit it to someone or you keep it locked up forever. Discord took a long, deep breath. “Of course you did and they forgave you for it. But when I do, I’m scolded for it. Scolded because they expect me to be able to conform instantly . . . isn’t friendship supposed to help with that?

Accepting one another for who they are despite the flaws . . . At least that’s what I thought. It seemed I was wrong to think this is friendship.” His heart began to race faster and faster as the world spun all around him. “No matter where I go, I am despised . . . the glares, the disgusted looks, the snide remarks, the whispering . . . and you never noticed, am I right?” his voice cracked, “How would you feel?”

Discord finally turned, tear filled eyes regarding Twilight’s. Yet again, she averted his gaze. He forced himself to continue, though his voice grew weaker, “Even you, my so called friends treat me the same . . . Every single time I visit any of you or show up at a gathering, the reactions are always the same . . .” The last bit came out little more than a whisper as he closed his eyes and lowered his head. “utterly annoyed, disgusted by my appearance . . . even angered by it . . .”

Discord could not bear it any longer. All of this was simply too much to bear, as if he were trapped in every single bitter moment again and all at once. The first sob escaped him as he turned away. Others came as he tried to spurt out more. “No one ever trusted me . . . and why should they?!” He buried his head in his legs, sobs wracking his ribs. “I’m only the evil monster that makes everyone’s lives miserable.”

Discord stood, not even caring about the pain in his back. He wanted—needed to be alone. As best he could, he walked towards the library door. “That’s-that’s how it is, that’s how it always was and that’s how it always will be!”

Eyes, half close and half filled with tears, Discord couldn’t really see that clearly. After about ten steps, he was stopped by a gentle hug. At the contact he stopped, trying his best to calm himself down enough to breathe. He could make out Twilight embracing him with her hooves around his neck, face burrowed in his fur.

Between her tiny sobs, he caught the words. “I’m so sorry . . . I’m so so sorry.” Her breaths steadied as she continued, “Please . . . please listen. I’m so sorry Discord, I . . .” She stopped clutching him tighter, her heart pounding like a rabbit’s.

For the first time, Discord listened, really listened and the picture began to come into focus. The truth must have been painful to hear. After all, Twilight only ever wanted to do what was right. She never acted out of bad intentions that he knew of.

His sobbing came to an end eventually as he wrapped his arms around her and sunk to the ground. He returned the hug, crying silently with her.

For a moment, he felt her grip loosen just a bit, as she took a long slow breath. Then she tightened it again, nuzzling his fur softly.

He closed his eyes, stroking her back gently. “Hush, it will be all right. Hush now . . .”


Spike walked absent-mindedly towards the library, trying not to imagine the monumental task that lay in store. After putting it off for hours, it was time to fess up. Just talk to her, no big deal. Like Rarity said, she’ll understand. It’s not like she’ll take his side anyway.

As he stood in front of the crystal doors glistening in the moonlight, he felt his resolve shrink. Deep breaths, Spike, deep breaths. Slowly he crept inside. “Twilight? Can I talk to you for a bit?”

Discord lay fast asleep on the cushions beneath the large window, purring softly in his sleep. A quick scan did not reveal Twilight anywhere. Reluctantly, he shuffled towards the draconequus. Halfway there he paused, eyes growing wide. What the —

There curled up beside Discord was Twilight. What are you doing with him for? He obviously tricked her again, yes, that had to be it. But, judging from the contented look on her face, she didn’t think so.

His limbs shook as he backed out of the library and closed the doors behind him. Pantining heavily, he slid down the wall. Twilight—his Twilight had been corrupted by that monster. So much for her taking my side . . .

Chapter Seven — Redo

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Despite the perpetually cold crystal pressing against Twilight’s side, there remained a pleasant warmth across her neck. At first, the sensation reminded her of a scarf. Sooo soft. Her heart skipped a beat. Too soft . . . and warm.

Although confused, Twilight really could not bring herself to break away. Too tired to get up, she burrowed into the not-scarf allowing the warmth to soak into her coat. Its surface—what felt like hair—had an equally pleasant downy texture that seemed to snuggle her right back.

Strange as might be, at that moment, Twilight felt undeniably safe . . . protected . . . happy. Yes, happier than she had been in days. For once, sleeping in didn’t seem all that bad of an idea. Just as she began to drift off, her eyes flickered open and she froze. Discord?

Sure enough, her not-scarf proved to be Discord and the “wall” her hooves had been pressing against all night proved to be his bandaged chest. Immediately she removed the pressure, eyeing him with wide eyes. A wave of panic swept momentarily over her until the pieces from last night fell into place.

A soft smile found its way across her lips. Her eyes tracked up Discord’s fuzzy chest to where it met his smooth chocolate hairs. His neck curled around her own and over her back, revealing the reason for her earlier scarf assumption. Though his face hid behind her back, his hot, steady breaths tickled the feathers. She turned her neck just enough to regard him out of the corner of her eyes.

Discord’s own eyes were closed as a steady rumbling like that of a small motor escaped from his nostrils. Twilight could not help but giggle at the small smile still plastered across his muzzle. He looks so peaceful . . .

She could not remember a time she had ever seen him this peaceful. No matter the situation, he always wore that amused or mocking grin on his face, never a genuine smile. But now, there he was. Just smiling peacefully as he slumbered right beside her. One of the most powerful beings in Equestria, just lying there, blind to what she could do to him. Trusting her this much . . .

He looked happy. Just like her. After all that happened within the past few days and yesterday’s events, he finally smiled. Maybe this really was a new beginning . . . a fresh start. Only this time, she would make certain it went the way it should have in the first place. It’ll work out, it just has to.

A long yawn escaped her, and she tried to stretch out a bit. Just then, she noticed the eagle claw spread over her back. She blinked, trying to think of a way to get out without waking him. He needed all the rest he could get.

After nearly ten minutes of careful adjusting, she successfully got out of the awkward position. Glad to have freedom of movement again, she took a moment to fully stretch her back, legs, and wings. Taking in a deep breath through her nostrils, she released it, glancing around the library.

Exactly the same as they had left it last night. Twilight tried not to note the research books scattered hither and yon across the library floor. The brilliant beams of light filtering through the windows drew her to them. Striding over to the balcony, she took in a lungful of fresh morning air and the panoramic view of Ponyville.

From her vantage point, she could make out the market and a few familiar ponies already making their rounds. Though it might be ordinary and boring to most ponies, the sight never ceased to make her smile. After standing there for a few minutes, her attention turned back to the sleeping draconequus by the door.

Twilight walked over, stopping just one hoof length in front of him. Her smile shattered as she took in the bandages bound around his midsection. The image of him slamming into the bookshelf flashed in her mind. Without intending to, her eyes fell to the bookshelf . Try as she may, she could not help but remember the sticky warmth of his blood on her hoof.

Shaking her head, she pulled her attention from the shelf. Dwelling on what happened would not help her, and it most certainly would not cure Discord. Once again looking at Discord, she slowly leaned down, giving his neck the slightest nuzzle. She held her head there for a moment, taking in the rich, earthy scent emanating from his coat. Then, softly, she whispered, “You’re going to be okay . . . from now on everything will be different. I promise.”

Raising her head, Twilight regarded him one last time. “And that’s a promise I intend to keep,” she breathed. Then, turning towards the door, she stepped out into the hallway.

As she walked down the hall, her mind drifted back to yesterday evening. Discord’s words had ripped her heart apart. The way they treated him . . . it was just wrong. And to think she had been blind to the reality for so long.

It took a second to realize she had stopped walking, too caught up in her thoughts. That moment when he broke down and started sobbing in front of her . . . She couldn’t even find the words to describe how horrible it had been. Then he started leaving and she panicked. She wouldn’t allow it to end there . . . she had to—no needed to apologize. No matter what came next and no matter how, she needed him to know how sorry she was about what they did to him. What she did to him . . .

She had managed to stop Discord before he left. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to get up after processing his words. But he had to say them, if not for himself, then for her. To wake her up . . .

Then, most surprisingly, Discord actually stayed and . . . even returned the embrace. She smiled to herself. That moment, though small, marked the first step towards mending their broken friendship. Though, Twilight giggled softly, it was kind of awkward. Shaking her head, she continued towards the kitchen.

Once inside, she took a quick inventory of the pantry’s contents. Hmm. “He needs to eat a proper meal if he’s going to heal. What would he like though? Ah!” She levitated a box of pancake mix to eye-level. “Perfect.” Discord had enjoyed Spike’s pancakes, so hopefully he would enjoy hers too. After that, they could get back to research and she could get back to setting things right.

Setting things right, huh? As she worked, last night’s conversation replayed itself once more . . .


Twilight found herself frozen in place, unable to process the situation further. Discord stopped . . . now what? Every time she looked up to speak, the words drowned themselves in tears. Then he brought his arms around her, warm and comforting.

Without realizing it, she slackened her grip around his neck. She felt him sink to the ground in front of her. As he did, the overwhelming guilt crashed over her and she gripped him tightly, crying into his shoulder. It’s all my fault. I should have known . . . How did I miss the signs?

She felt a steady pressure as he leaned his head over her neck, tears wetting her mane. Despite her breakdown, or perhaps because of it, he continued to stroke her back gently. Twilight wanted—needed to speak, but could not find the words.

Suddenly, Discord’s voice broke the silence, nearly causing her to jump. “Hush now . . .” he whispered shakily in the most gentle tone she had ever heard him use.

“I-I’m sorry . . . I’m so sorry,” she whimpered, legs quivering. Though she tried to stop herself, the sobs returned. “Discord . . . you’re not a monster . . . you’re anything but that! We’re the monsters!” The words were wholly inadequate for the situation. All the words in Equestria wouldn’t be enough to describe how sorry she was for everything.

His grip grew more firm as he hushed her again. “It’s okay, Twilight. It’s okay. Let’s just—” He shook his head, “What happened happened, you cannot change what has already transpired.”

She turned to him, eyes wide. It’s not okay! And yet, here he was, kneeling in front of her and professing just that. “W-Wh. . . . How—how can you say that?” She stuttered.

Discord stared into her eyes, lip moving as if to speak, but no words came out. Then, softly, “Because I know that no good comes from holding onto past mistakes . . .” He broke the gaze.

You’re right, and we should have let go of yours too. . . A heady silence followed as she scrambled for anything to say.

Then, he suddenly began to smile, burrowing his face into his arm, sniggering. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“Hey now. I—”

Discord turned back to her, raising her chin with his paw. “But . . .” The soft smile stretching across his face made her heart skip a beat. “That is what makes you so wonderful.” He brushed aside her forelock, nuzzling it softly. “Do not worry,” he breathed.

She choked back the lump in her throat. “But we treated you so badly. We can’t-can’t erase what happened.”

“No, but who’s to say we can’t start over?”

“What?” Shocked, she looked into his eyes. “You-you mean it?”

He gave her a toothy grin, nodding. “Yes . . . if you are willing to, then I am as well.”


Twilight caught herself smiling broadly at the memory. She still couldn’t believe it had really happened. But . . . he had forgiven her and now she had the chance to make up for all the mistakes she and her friends had done.

“I have a feeling today’s going to turn out a lot better,” she spoke to herself as she prepared the pancakes.


Spike took pride in his adaptability. No matter what challenges life threw at him, he could handle them in stride. At least that used to be the case. Adapting to the ‘situation’ made the bottom of his priority list this morning. After a sleepless night fretting over the implications of what he saw, he had come no closer to a solution than when he started.

Of course he needed to talk with Twilight, but would she even be open to listening? More than likely not. Still, he had to try, didn’t he? Just as soon as I get some breakfast.

He made it halfway down the hallway when the wonderful, unmistakable smell of pancakes wafted over to his nostrils. Please don’t be Discord, please don’t be Discord! Thankfully, when he arrived at the kitchen, Twilight’s smiling face greeted him. Thank Celestia.

Though happy to see her and not their resident menace, Spike could not help but be slightly unnerved by her uncharacteristic morning bird display. “Twilight? What are you—”

Twilight trotted over to him, plate of pancakes trailing behind in her magic. “Good morning! Hope you don’t mind me making breakfast.”

Between his exhaustion and confusion from last night, Spike really couldn’t find the right words to say. He settled for a generic response instead. “Oh, I don’t mind. It’s nice not to have to cook once in a while . . .” Plus you actually know how to cook. His stomach growled with the promise of piping hot chocolate pancakes. Guess it can wait . . .

They had an uneventful breakfast in which Twilight kept smiling and playing with the pancakes like the mares plastered on his cookbook. Every minute that passed felt like an hour as he waited for the right opportunity. As soon as she stood to clean the plates, he made his move. “Twi?” I’ve got to talk to her before it’s too late. “I need to talk to you!”

Twilight made to speak, but he interrupted, “Now. It can’t wait!”

An awkward silence followed in which Twilight merely gaped at him as if he were a different dragon altogether. “Um . . . sure. What is it?”

He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the inevitable argument. “Discord needs to go.”

What?”

“Discord. You need to throw him out. He can’t stay here.” He shouldn’t have been here in the first place . . .

Twilight flattened her ears. “Spike! What are you—”

“NO! Now you listen to me!” A jet of green flames shot from his nostrils as the blood rushed to his ears. Despite everything they had been through together, she continued to treat him like an ignorant child. Not this time. “I don’t know what he’s doing to you, Twilight, but I’m not going to stand by and let it continue!”

“Stop it, Spike! Discord is—”

“—Nothing but trouble! He’s the Spirit of Chaos, Twi. He’s using your guilt to make you his puppet!”

Twilight’s tone darkened until it cut like a razor across his heart. “That’s not true. He is not using me, Spike. You—”

“ YES HE IS!” Spike stared back into her eyes, searching. Why? Why did she remain blind to something so obvious? He couldn’t bear the thought of Twilight—his Twilight—under that monster’s spell. His voice began to quiver, “You’re worrying yourself over nothing and he’s using that. Someone like him doesn’t deserve your care.”

“How can you say that?!” Her voice cracked, “Of course he does.”

“Wake up, Twilight!” Spike hit one of the chairs, sending it clattering to the crystal. “He cast the spell on you. Discord’s not sorry about trying to hurt you, only sorry he lost! It’s his fault he’s like this, not yours.”

Sparks of magic danced and swirled around Twilight’s horn like fireflies. Her eyes shone with anger as the tears trickled down her cheek. “It’s not his fault! It’s no-nopony’s fault.”

“It’s always his fault. Everywhere he goes there’s trouble.” His voice rose in a gradual crescendo, “And you want to know why? Because it’s always about him! If it doesn’t benefit him, he doesn’t even show up!”

He panted a while before continuing, “He acts like he’s our friend, but what has he ever done for us? Every time he shows up, we’re stuck cleaning up his mess. So why should you be left to clean up his, huh? What’s going to happen after he’s cured, did you ever think of that?”

“He’ll play along with us for a little while, but he’ll get bored like always. And when he’s finally had enough of playing the ‘good boy,’ he’ll turn the world into his chaotic—”

“—Stop it!” Twilight screamed so loud her voice boomed all the way down the hall. “That’s enough, Spike! What do you know about Discord anyway? You can’t read his mind! You don’t even give him a chance to prove himself before you start throwing stones. Sure he messes up, but we messed up worse than he did plenty of times. Why should we be forgiven while he’s punished? I bet you never—”

“Quit comparing him to us! He’s not one of us. Just some freak of nature hellbent on making everyone suffer. Why should we give him another chance? He’s nothing but a MONSTER!” he screamed the last word at the top of his lungs, letting it linger in the air like a miasma.


‘He’s nothing but a MONSTER!’ The words echoed again and again in Discord’s head, growing louder and louder until the volume was maddening. He gripped the doorframe, trying to control the wave of vertigo threatening to bring him to his knees.

However much he hated Spike’s words, he could not deny that most of them had been true. His life had always revolved around amusing himself regardless of the harm it brought to others. It had become so ingrained into his identity that he could not imagine life without it. Even after his reformation, he continued to toy with the very ponies he called friends. And for what? A good laugh? How hollow that sounded now . . .

He wanted—needed to change his ways. But who would listen to him now? . . . And without any help, it was pointless. Even Spike—a mere child—loathed the very idea of his changing. And to assume that his apology was insincere . . . Though, he could not blame him. When had any of his apologies been genuinely sincere? Now that one had, nopony believed him. Well, save for Twilight. She might wish to make amends, but they never would.

Feeling suddenly nauseous, he started off towards his room. Despite his desire to speak with Twilight, he could not deal with Spike at present. His back ached worse than he ever imagined possible. That pain coupled with his temper would be a volatile combination. He had had enough of arguing.

He limped off towards his room. Though grateful for Twilight’s support, he could not help but worry. She needed Spike by her side. The thought of the two breaking ties on his account stung worse than the cut ever could. Still, she needed to sort things out with him alone. His presence would only escalate the situation.

Halfway down the hall, he paused, staring down at his hands. One more try. The hollow snap that followed made his heart stop cold. His magic had not returned. It might never return. Discord found his entire body quivering at the thought . . . his now mortal body.

He did not just use magic, he was magic. His life depended on his connection with it. Discord gulped, gripping his chest. It’s time to tell her.


Twilight’s entire body felt weak and numb as she stared into Spike’s cold eyes. He’s right . . . they don’t listen. They’ll never listen. To call him a monster after he had been trying so hard to change . . . “Shut up,” her icy words pierced the silence, setting Spike back a step.

“Maybe . . . maybe you’re right.” Her limbs continued to shake as her anger mounted. “He’s different from most of us, yes. But you’re not a pony either, Spike! Does that make you a monster?” Nopony had the right to call him that. “Because of my spell, he lost everything that makes him unique. He needs his magic and I . . . and I . . .” she looked down at the floor.

Why had she reacted so dramatically to a harmless prank? If she had just played along, Discord would never have been hurt. If she would have just trusted him enough . . . “I took his magic away. He . . . he didn’t deserve that.”

Spike’s eyes shone with regret as he reached out to her. “Sorry, I . . . I didn’t realize . . .”

Twilight shoved his claw away. “No, you didn’t!” I can’t deal with this right now. Her vision began to blur, stomach churning until she thought she might vomit. Discord had been right, but what could she do?

Without another word, she left the kitchen, stumbling down the hallway. I need to talk to him . . .


Discord lay on his bed, trying to drown out the echo’s of Spike’s earlier rant with research. Books never had been a favorite pastime of his, but given the alternatives, they won out. The less he thought about the piercing pain in his back and his inability to use any magic, the better.

A knock at the door followed by Twilight’s soft voice made him twitch. So she came to me. Well . . . can’t avoid it now, can I? “Come in.”

Twilight stepped inside with all the air of a doe entering an open meadow. Her eyes fell to the pile of books on his bed. “Got some light reading I see.” The playful tone of voice might have reassured him if her eyes were not so full of worry.

He gave a weak chuckle to make her gilded smile. “Yes, I suppose.” Shuffling over, he motioned Twilight to come over and join him. When she did, he continued, “Did you get him to calm down?”

Her eyes widened, “I—I . . . how did you know?”

“I overheard . . .”

All attempts at a cheery demeanor vanished as she stared at his mismatched limbs. “You’re not a monster, Discord. He’s wrong . . . nopony has the right to call you that.”

His heart leapt at the defense. Though, he had to admit, there were days the word rang true. “I’m the Spirit of Chaos . . . a patchwork quilt of animals with errant magic to match. By most everypony’s definition, I qualify as a monster, Twilight.”

“Then their definition needs revision!” she snapped, swishing her tail.

“I . . . but—”

“But what?” A kind of fire flickered in her eyes, one he had never seen before. “So what if your a ‘patchwork quilt,’ huh? You were born that way, you can’t help it!”

Discord felt himself starting to panic as the tears streamed down her face. “Twilight, it’s alright. I am used to it . . . Please do not cry on my account.”

“Why should you have to be ashamed of who you are? Why should everypony treat you like a disease?” She shook violently, pressing her side to his. “You were right . . . they don’t listen.”

“Yes, but I also said to let it go.”

She sniffed, wiping away the tears. “I know . . . I know. It’s just so frustrating.” Her attention fell to the books once more. “Find anything out yet?”

“No-no . . .” he lowered his head onto the blanket.

Her hoof stroked his mane gently. “It’ll be okay . . . give it time, we’ll find a solution.”

But I don’t have time . . . Even now he could sense his organs slowly shutting down. If they did not find a solution within the next few days, it would all be over. “Twilight. I must tell you something.”

She looked taken-aback, but nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“I . . .This spell . . .” Urgh, spit it out! He raised his head, looking her straight in the eye. “Twilight, I’m dying.”

What?

Chapter Eight — Pressure

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“What?” In a fraction of a second, she had lept to her hooves.

The terror and fear held within Twilight’s eyes clasped around his heart like cold iron bars. Of all the damned, foolish statements possible, he chose the one certain to spiral the mare into a state of panic. “Twilight, please . . . don’t—don’t freak out. Stay calm and—”

“Stay calm? Stay calm? How do you expect me to ‘stay calm’ with you dumping that on me!” She huffed, sending clouds of vapor drifting in the still morning air. “Discord? What . . . how,” her eyes darted all over his body as if confirming it was still there, “how are you dying? What’s going on? Explain!”

Discord took a collected breath, though he kept a wary eye on the now-quivering mare before him. “Okay. I will just—just sit down and . . . I will explain everything.” He prayed his words came off as diplomatic as they sounded in his head.

Apparently they did. After a few tense seconds, Twilight relented with a small sigh. “Alright . . .” She sat back down beside him on the bed, still breathing heavily through her nostrils. The intense determination in her unwavering gaze reiterated the necessity of treading lightly. As if he needed a reminder about that.

More out of consideration than sentiment, he shot her a small smile. Rather than returning it, she sat even stiffer if that were possible, continuing to regard him with the air of a wronged co-worker. Guess I’m not getting off the hook this time . . .

Discord drew out a long breath, watching his own breath hang in the air for a moment. Just like Twilight’s . . . Strange that a spirit should produce the same effect as a creature born of the earth. Spirit. Aye, perhaps that would be the place to start.

“Look, Twilight. I’m . . . I’m a spirit.” And a hopeless fool, but you already knew that, didn’t you? “A spirit’s life functions on magic. With that I don’t mean that we merely need to hold magic. No . . . our magic is inextricably linked to our very body and soul.” Twilight had turned to stare intently at the quilt, eyes glazed over with thought.

Aaaaand, I lost you. Undoubtedly, Twilight was currently calculating the possibilities from a scientific and mathematical perspective. Better to cut her off before being subjugated to yet another barrage of questions. “The details do not matter.” Well, not at present. “What matters is that this magic is an integral part of who I am. Without it I cannot live.” There he had said it yet again.

Though her mouth hung slightly open, Twilight did not speak. He had her attention. But what could he say? Could there be any explanation that would satisfy her?

“The magic keeps me alive. It’s . . . difficult to explain . . .” Yes, yes it is. Discord hardly understood it all himself. “The longer a spirit is separated from magic, the weaker a spirit becomes. It is like a pony being deprived of water. Though painful and difficult you would manage for a time. The body finds ways of compensating for the loss. But, invariably, that time comes to an end and . . . and . . .”

Discord gulped, feeling the words catch in his throat. “After your resources and alternatives are depleted, your body begins shuts down.” He looked hard at the smooth floor, trying not to imagine Twilight’s eyes boring into the back of his neck. “Little by little . . . organ by organ . . . until nothing remains but that which is essential to life. Then . . . then you die. It is the same for me without magic.”

For a long time, he could not raise his head. When he finally managed to turn back, she had started crying. No, not again. Before he could stop himself, he had gripped her in a gentle hug which she quickly returned. “I’m so sorry, Twilight.”

He stroked her mane silently, listening to her breaths steady against his chest. “I should have told you sooner, but . . .”

Her gentle voice eased the tension that had filled the room ever since his announcement. “I know, I know . . . Thank you for telling me.” She pushed him away, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks.

Try as he may to shake it loose, the guilt continued to gnaw away. Why had he kept the truth from her so long? She deserved to know and his stubborn refusal to talk had already cost them valuable time. “Don’t worry, Twilight. We’ll find a solution in time. I just wanted to let you know.”

He smiled encouragingly back at her. “As long as we work together . . . as a team, then we can do it.”

The smallest of smiles crept across her face and, before he could react, she had given him a quick, tight hug. “Yup!”

The sudden addition of pressure on the wound made him gasp from pain.

“Oh my gosh, Discord! I’m sorry, I—”

Discord interrupted her with a low chuckle. “It’s okay, Twilight. We just need to be a bit more careful.”

Twilight giggled, stretching out to lie down on the bed. Discord followed suit, eyeing her cautiously. Sure enough, a determined glint had taken hold in her eyes, complete with the occasional twitch of the tail. Already thinking of solutions, huh?

Discord let her process for a while, occasionally smoothing the hairs on Twilight’s back. For a pony, she really did take excellent care of her appearance. As the minutes wore on, his mind wandered back to how they had arrived at this discussion in the first place. Spike . . .

His smile fell as Spike’s words returned to him. Shaking them away, he turned back to Twilight. Knots formed in his stomach at the thought of her arguing with Spike. All because of him. Why? He never asked for that. “Twilight?”

“Yes?”

“I . . . I don’t want to be the reason you two are fighting. I-I,” he bit his lip, searching for the right words, “I couldn’t bear the thought of breaking you two apart.” Discord felt the confidence behind his voice shatter. Fighting back another wave of nausea, he continued as steadily as he could, “Could you two talk about it again? Seriously? Without jumping to conclusions, you know? Maybe you can explain what’s going on . . .”

Twi placed her hooves on his hands, locking gazes with him. “It’s not your fault, Discord. We were bound to argue at some point. Better to get over it now than later. And of course I’ll talk to him again. Nothing can break Spike and me apart. We’re a team after all.”

Discord felt a wave of relief at her words. “Thanks,” he breathed.

“Sure. I guess I should go and talk with him after he cools down. He needs some time to sort through it for himself first.” She got stiffly to her hooves. After taking a few steps, she whirled around to face him again. “How about I make something for you to eat? You missed breakfast after all.”

He could only nod, lowering his head back onto the covers. Though he really wanted to join Twilight, this morning’s incident and the nagging pain in his back made him reconsider. Maybe we all just need to ‘cool down’ . . .


Twilight leaned against the smooth wall of the hallway, allowing the perpetually chilled surface to ease the panic threatening to overwhelm her senses. Even if it had all been an accident, the undeniable truth of the matter left her numb all over. If they did not find a solution soon, Discord would die.

Shaking her head, she started down the hallway at a brisk trot. “Focus, Twilight. Focus.” Though she wanted to drag Discord to help research, he obviously had not been feeling up to it when she had dropped off the pancakes. Struggling with a fast-failing body understandably sapped his energy. However, that left her responsible for his fate. Or did it?

She slid to a halt just outside the library. “I’m such an idiot!” Without a second’s hesitation, she darted into the chamber to find the necessary supplies. Scrawling a hasty note, she sealed it and scampered back down the hallway. If anypony in all of Equestria would understand the solution, it would be her.

It took only a few minutes to arrive at Spike’s door. She hammered loudly until it opened a crack. Spike glowered up at her, “What do you want?”

“I . . . need . . . you to deliver . . . this,” she panted, levitating the scroll into his hand. “It’s important it gets to Celestia as soon as possible.”

Spike rolled his eyes, “Sure, whatever.”

“Thanks.” Just as Spike made to shut the door, she jammed her hoof in the crack. “Could we talk later?”

“Later,” he reiterated coldly.

“Er . . . o-okay.” She removed her hoof and flinched as the door slammed shut in her face. “Well then . . .”

Turning back, she made her way back to the library. Though they needed to talk, Twilight knew enough to leave him for the moment. Let him relax while she finished up some more research. Then, after a few hours, she would try again.


Hours sifting through a veritable mountain of “light” spellbooks and she had come no closer to identifying the solution. Twilight yawned, scrawling down yet another note into the journal. Happening to glance out the window for the first time since she started, she froze. Sunset already?

Her gut sunk. So much of their precious time wasted and for what? To know yet another list of what would not work? Even her patience grew thin at the thought. She shot to her hooves. Better have a quick chat with Spike and relate what she had discovered to Discord. Perhaps he might be able to draw some useful conclusions from the information.

Limbs still a little numb from lying down for so long, she made her way stiffly towards Spike’s room. Upon arrival, she hesitated for the briefest of moments. She had not exactly thought over what to say to Spike. Then again, perhaps that was for the best.

She knocked two times, taking a step back. A few seconds later, Spike opened the door, peering around it with an unreadable expression. “Yeah?”

“Hey, Spike. Ready for that talk?”

Spike looked at her as if unsure how best to proceed. “Er . . . okay.” He stepped aside and Twilight entered. After closing the door, Spike sat down at the edge of his bed, focusing on his feet.

“Look Spike . . . “ Twilight took a position in front of him on the carpet. “I never wanted this to end in a fight. And I’m sure you didn't either.”

His eyes went up to meet hers, but head still held low.

“I think we both had a lot of misunderstandings, and I wanted to talk them out with you. Calm . . . without either of us jumping to conclusions. Alright?” She shot him an encouraging smile.

He then raised his head and smiled a bit himself. “Alright. And of course I didn’t want to fight . . .”

“Good.” She stood up and gave him a hug, which he returned. Hopping onto the bed beside him, she continued, “How about I tell you everything? No lies and no secrets. Then I think you’ll understand. I’d appreciate it if you sit there and listen to me without interrupting, okay?”

Spike looked up from his claws to look her in the eyes once more and nodded slowly. “Yeah . . . alright then,” he breathed softly.

Twilight took the ensuing silence as a sign to start. If only it were that simple. “I guess I should start with what happened back in the library. You need to understand that Discord never intended to hurt me.”

He scoffed, but made no further comment on the matter.

“He wanted to cast the spell I created on me as a little prank. I know how you think about his pranks, but . . . nothing serious would have happened if it went the way he planned it. It wouldn’t have been a problem for the Spirit of Chaos to undo a spell like that.”

“But,” she took in a long, deep breath, “I went ahead and blocked it. Because frankly, I don’t like his little ‘pranks’ either.”

He made to reply, but bit his tongue.

Twilight ignored him as best she could. If she did not tell the whole story now, she might never get another chance. “After that I-I don’t really know what happened myself. The defense spell reacted badly to the one Discord cast and the backlash threw Discord hard against the bookshelf.”

“That not only physically injured him, but the counter-spell somehow sapped his magic completely.” She looked down, trying to staunch the familiar lingering guilt before it reared up again. “Neither of us knows why. And, Spike . . . he’s not faking it! I know it’s not just my fault, but I feel guilty. And why shouldn’t I? Not only did I hurt him really bad, but I took away the one thing that makes Discord himself!”

It took a moment to order her thoughts. “Discord and I spoke yesterday . . . I—he told me a lot. About how he feels and that he’s not the one who’s been doing things wrong, Spike. It’s us!”

His eyes widened as he looked into her own. “You can’t be serious,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “We’ve been the ones trying. He just goofs off.”

“Please let me explain,” she pleaded softly. “He’s really, really been trying, Spike. He tries so hard to show us he can be a good friend.”

“Hardly. You’ve seen what he does to his ‘friends.’”

“Yes, and I thought the same as you did, but now . . . now I understand.” Could she do justice to Discord’s explanation? She would try. “Discord is very, very old, Spike. Imagine how it feels living that entire time cherishing only one thing. For Discord, that’s chaos. Now imagine what it would be like to simply give all of that up for friends he’s only known for a fraction of a second in his time frame.”

“Oh . . .” Spike looked away, face growing slightly red. “Guess that’d be kinda hard.”

“Exactly! So how can we expect him to be perfect at friendship right from the start? It would be like us trying to be as evil as King Sombra overnight. We . . . we couldn’t, Spike.” Nopony could . . .

“Why are we always getting angry at him for making mistakes? Do you remember how many mistakes the girls and I made starting out? A lot more—and a lot worse than Discord’s! How would you feel in Discord’s position, huh?” She glanced over at Spike, noting the sympathy in his eyes. Maybe her words were finally sinking in.

One last push. “That’s not everything, Spike. He’s struggling and then we come along and make it even worse for him. Nopony but Fluttershy even gave him a chance. None of us thought about his feelings after he reformed. Maybe that’s why he sided with Tirek. Because he didn’t feel like he belonged with us . . . like he was nothing but an outcast.”

She forced back the tears. Not again. “We keep treating him like a monster, but he’s not. He’s really not . . . He doesn’t even think we care about him, Spike! And the worst bit is that . . . that it’s true. We didn’t care and most of us still don’t. It’s time we change that.” Her words were confident at the end, but that confidence slowly ebbed as she recalled Discord’s words.

“He told me how the ponies here react to him. They don’t know him—not personally anyway, and yet they despise him for what he’s done. For actions he can’t erase . . . And every time he was around or came by for something we were either annoyed or angry. Because we can’t accept him the way he is. And that from his so called friends,” she finished weakly.

Spike fidgeted with his fingers, frowning deeply.

“He heard our fight this morning too . . .” Twilight gave him a gentle noogie. “But . . . You know what happened last night?”

He shook his head slowly.

“After everything he told me . . . he forgave me, Spike.”

Spike lifted his head, mouth hanging open.

“Seriously. He wanted to start over from the beginning. Just like . . . just like that.” She felt a large smile to stretch across her face at the memory. “I’m going to make sure that I’ll do it right this time.”

She placed a hoof over one of his claws. “That’s why I want him to stay here, Spike. To rewrite what has been done.”


Twilight’s words lingered, growing in potency until they hung as oppressive as the humidity in the chamber. What did he say? I’m sorry? But, what point was there in apologizing to Twilight when Discord had been wronged?

He looked into her eyes, knowing full well that she did not harbor any resentment towards him. Only concern. Celestia . . . what do I do now? Then the answer came to him. Maybe I’m the one that needs to start over.

He stumbled towards the door. “Sorry, Twi, but there’s something I have to do.”

She walked over to join him. “Sure, Spike. Find me in the library when you’re done. I need to talk to him too.”

Jerking a nod, he walked little more confidently towards Discord’s room. As he made his way down the winding halls, he tried to come up with something intelligent to say. “Discord, I’m sor-sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it.” No . . . I did mean it . . . “Discord, I . . . I was horrible. I never should have said something like that.” Yeah, that’s better. “You’re not a monster. If anything, I’m the monster.”

He paused outside of Discord’s door, suddenly feeling a lot less confident than before. Come on, Spike. He doesn’t bite! Just tell it like it is. Wiping his hands, he knocked cautiously on the door. When no answer came, he opened it slowly, stepping inside. “Discord I need to talk to—”

Spike stopped cold upon meeting Discord’s gaze. His elongated mouth was contorted into a ferocious snarl that made his skin crawl. “So-sorry! I didn’t mean to barge in.” It took a few seconds staring before he noticed Discord’s had not even looked his way. Rather, his attention focused solely on the unbound wound on his back.

His heart sunk when Discord fell on his side, groaning and clutching at the weeping sore. Spike ran over to him, locking eyes with the draconequus. To his horror, Discord looked close to panic. “Discord? What happened? What’s wrong?”

Discord raised his head towards his back, eyes awash with agony. Then, before he could speak, allowed it to fall weakly onto the covers once more.

Spike crawled up on the bed beside him, examining the wound. Nothing about it looked normal. The red, seeping gash had matted the hairs with puss and blood. Leaning in a little closer, he crinkled his nose. Smells awful! As carefully as he could, he pressed a hand to its surface. Way too warm.

Discord gave a frightening snarl then blew heavily through his nostrils. He struggled to raise his head, but did not seem capable of lifting it again. Spike’s heart ached as he looked over the cut once more. Twilight’s right! He wasn’t faking it. This is serious! His entire body began to quiver as he took in the implications. He needs help, now!

Spike slid off the bed, Discord’s eyes following him. The fear and concern flickering in them made him shake all the worse. “What’s-what’s wrong?”

If I tell him, he’ll panic. This is a job for Twi. He patted Discord’s forehead, retracting his hand quickly. Celestia, he’s got a fever too! Thinking as quickly as he could given the circumstances, Spike grabbed a rag, dipping it in the pitcher of water on the endtable. Returning to Discord, he placed it over the draconequus’ eyes. “You’ll . . . you’ll be fine. The cut’s a little infected, that’s all.”

“Infected?”

Spike fought to keep his voice steady. “Yea-yeah.” He stroked Discord’s mane gently, then turned away. “I’m going to get Twi to look at it. She’s really good at this sort of stuff.” He rushed to the door, pausing to call back, “Stay there and don’t move!”

He could just make out Discord’s weak reply. “Couldn’t if I wanted to . . .”

With that, Spike sprinted full out down the hallway. I need to hurry . . .


Twilight stood in the center of the library, glowering at the notes strewn across the floor. The latest set of spells had done nothing but leave scorch marks on the otherwise pristine crystal. Come on, Twilight! You’ve got to get it right. There’s no more time for these stupid mistakes . . .

The loud slapping of feet against the floor caused her to look up just in time to see Spike sliding to a halt a few inches from her. Even with the glare from the setting sun obscuring his features, she could tell something was wrong. “Twilight! Go to Discord! Right now!”

Her heart stopped cold. Discord? Don’t tell me . . . She charged over to him, limbs feeling incredibly weak now. “What happened to him?”

Spike looked taken aback by her reaction, but recovered himself. “Er . . . he’s—his cut’s really infected. You need to take a look!”

She breathed a long sigh of relief. “Thank Celestia.”

He gaped at her, shaking his arms in a series of wild gesticulations. “What?! How’s that a good thing, Twi?”

Oh. Of course her comment would sound odd. He did not know the real danger after all. “Sorry, Spike, I was just afraid it was another side-effect of the spell.”

“Oh, that makes sense I guess. Sill,” his voice grew firmer and more urgent, “You need to check out Discord. He’s really sick and . . . and . . . err, Just come!”

Sick? What now? Heart racing, she galloped into the hallway without another word to Spike. As she made her way, her mind kept flashing back to Discord’s reluctance to show her the wound. Had it been worse than she thought? Oh, Celestia, I hope not.

She made it to the chamber, sliding inside and almost taking out a dresser upon entry. “Discord?”

His eyes looked her direction, though he did not raise his head. He gave her a feeble smile, “That was fast.”

Twilight felt the fear creep in. For the first time since his injury, he was doing nothing to hide his pain. Even from this distance, she could see him quivering like a leaf and the angry sore covering a large portion of his back. Why? Why had she not seen it before?

She cantered over to him, turning him over to get a better look at the wound. He grumbled a complaint, but otherwise remained silent. Her eyes darted over the surface of the wound, trying to take in the extent of his injuries. All the panic from that morning resurfaced full force. The wound was not just infected, it was septic. If she did not act now, it would take him before the loss of magic would. “Discord! Why didn’t you tell me it was so bad?”

Discord made to raise his head, but it fell after rising a few inches or so. “I didn’t know it was bad,” he practically whined.

Twilight’s breaths came out short and fast as she tried to fight the panic seeping into every fiber of her being. “Okay . . . okay. We’ll just—just bandage it up.”

She leaned in a little closer, eying the extent of the damage. Oh no. Her hooves shook as she cast a spell on it. Rather than seeping in, the spell rebounded against the wall, shattering the water pitcher. What the? This isn’t good!

Discord looked at her from the corner of his eye. “You can fix it, can’t you?” he asked shakily.

“I—I don’t know.” She ran a hoof gently along the surface, feeling the heat radiating off of it.

Discord gasped in pain, digging at the blanket with his paw.

What do I do? What do I do? “It’s okay, Discord. I—it’ll be alright.” Even to her the words sounded weak and half-hearted. How could it be alright now?

Discord shook his head slowly. No, it’s not . . . it’s not alright.” He began to cry softly. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I shouldn’t have tried to cast that spell on you. I should have been a better friend, I—”

“It’s okay . . . We all make mistakes, I forgive you.”

Discord looked away, then spoke in a barely audible whisper, “Don’t feel guilty . . .”

“About what?”

He bit back some more tears. “About this whole mess and what’s going to happen.”

Twilight stroked his neck, leg quivering as she did so. “No. You don’t get to talk like that, Discord! Not an option.”

He closed his eyes as she checked his temperature. He’s burning up!

Spike arrived in the doorway, panting. “Twi, what’s—”

“When is Celestia coming?” Surely she would have received the letter by now. Why did she wait?

“I . . .” Spike gulped, looking away. “I didn’t send it,” he murmured.

“What?!” Her heart pounded louder than ever. “I told you it was important!”

He flinched. “Sorry I—I was being stupid.”

Discord groaned, quivering violently now. Time had run out.

Twilight rounded on Spike. “Send the letter! Now!”