One incident. That’s all it took to make Twilight worry Spike is outgrowing her and pledge to devote all her time to her friend regardless of any other duties.
One incident. That’s all it took to make Twilight worry Spike is outgrowing her and pledge to devote all her time to her friend regardless of any other duties.
I remembered hearing some mixed opinions over the episode Some Pony to Watch Over Me, such as AJ being out of character. I once wondered if the episode would have worked better with Twilight and Spike. This piece is an experiment to see if it could, with a different setup and plot of course.
Twilight noticed she was missing that book when she quadruple checked her knapsack. She needed that book for her plans today. She would participate in a guided tour of the ruins by the Rambling Rock Ridges, just outside the Everfree Forest. No pony knew who built those ruins but scholars believed they represented one of the earliest pony settlements. One scholar proposed the ruins were constructed by ponies enamored by the light of the moon, citing the lunar architecture and the way moonlight could always pierce through the structures. This scholar theorized that this site could house the fabled artifact ponies had sought for millennia, a diamond so pristine and shimmering with a whiteness likened to the moon at its peak, the Eye of the Moon. Ever since the Canterlot Ruins and Artifacts Preservation Society took interest in the site a month ago, they placed the ruins under their protection and planned guided tours to stimulate public interest. Twilight bought a tour ticket in advance the instant she heard. Not only was this an opportunity to potentially find an important relic, she was going to learn more about ancient pony history. That alone excited her. In her excitement, she nearly forgot her book on ancient runes. She would need it if she wanted to translate any messages left by these ponies.
“Spike,” she called to her assistant sweeping the floor a few feet away. “Could you fetch my book on ancient runes? I think I left it on the table in the foyer.”
“On it,” Spike replied as he scampered away. She checked her bag a final time before heading to meet Spike in the foyer. Honestly, she could have retrieved the book herself. The foyer was the adjacent room so it was not far away. Relying on Spike must be a habit she supposed.
“And don’t forget the list of chores I left you,” she called. “Once you’re through with those you can take the day off.”
“Okay,” Spike answered with a tinge of annoyance. Starlight left for the Crystal Empire to spend the week with Sunburst, so he couldn’t count on any help from her. He could do Twilight’s chores. It would just take longer without help.
Twilight entered the foyer as Spike stretched his hand over the tall, dark table to grab the thick, pocket-sized book. Twilight froze at the sight. If this were any other table, she would not have thought twice, but her parents sent this table from Canterlot. It had been in their home since she was a filly, quietly serving its purpose without complaint. Five years ago, Spike could never reach the tabletop without standing on his toes. Now, he reached the book with both feet firmly on the ground.
“Here, Twi,” Spike’s voice brought Twilight back to the present as he handed her the book. She nodded, placing the book in her knapsack. “Something wrong?”
“What?” Twilight realized she had been staring at Spike. She shook her head and smiled, “No, it’s nothing. I was just thinking.”
“You have plenty of time for thinking,” Spike said, “ but if you don’t get going in the next five minutes, you’ll miss the train.” He pointed to a clock hanging from the wall. Twilight glanced at the clock and realized it was 9:30 am. Thanking Spike, she headed out the door. Twilight turned to look back. From the open door, Spike waved a clawed hand with a friendly smile. She raised her hoof to reciprocate the gesture. Waving back felt difficult, taxing to her heart. Nevertheless, she waved back and headed to the station.
The image of Spike reaching over the table without standing on his toes lingered in her mind even as she boarded the train and took her seat. Twelve years ago, she hatched the little drake from an egg as part of her magic school entrance exam. Back then, he could fit in a little crib, no bigger than a cardboard box. Now, he reached her shoulders and needed a bed of his own. Granted it was a small bed, but it was still bigger than his previous bed.
Well, what did she expect? She knew that he couldn’t stay a newborn forever, and sooner or later he would have to grow up. That’s what she did. That’s what Cadence did. Even Shining Armor grew up. He had his own child now, his own family, his own responsibilities. He was still her brother. She just didn’t get to see him everyday like she did when they were children. That didn’t mean they stopped caring about each other, just that they both had their own roles now. They were lucky. The distance between them was only geographical, not harsh and bitter. If she wanted, she could visit him whenever she wanted or he could visit her. So why didn’t he ever visit her? After she left Canterlot, she only saw him again for his wedding, which she only learned through Celestia’s invitation. It wasn’t his fault, she knew that, but she couldn’t help wondering if their time apart made them grow further apart.
As the train lurched out of the station, her head jerked back to her seat and her mind back to Spike. He was growing up. She always knew that. Confronting the facts left her feeling not proud, but uncomfortable. Spike was growing up. What if that meant growing apart from her?
“If you’ll follow me to the courtyard, we’ll continue our tour,” the guide’s voice interrupted Twilight’s scribbling.
The unnamed ruins were vast, extending miles in several areas, but only a portion of the buildings had withstood the centuries. This in no way diminished the tour. Around her, tourists and reporters snapped photographs while Canterlot Professors took notes, their quills scratching parchment furiously. Few of them paid an alicorn attention faced with the stone amphitheaters and domed towers. The stone columns, tiled path, the arches resembling a waxing crescent moon, and the temples with images of the stars and legends carved into the stone were all breathtaking, lending only glimpses of the long gone inhabitants. Twilight estimated that with modern technology, it would take ponies years to achieve this level of aesthetic design. Even with the architecture before her, Twilight’s mind wandered back to a little dragon. Here she was enjoying herself, trying to solve an ancient mystery, while he was probably still at home cleaning the dishes or reshelving her books. Every observation, translation, and theory she wrote felt half-hearted, performed by a distant being. She shook her head, turning her attention towards the tour guide.
As ponies gathered around, the tour guide cleared his throat. He ushered them to the center of the courtyard where a large rectangular panel jutted out from the tile path. The large panel, ten by twenty feet Twilight estimated, was split into square tiles. Twilight counted fifty of the two by two feet tiles total, which divided the larger panel like a jigsaw puzzle. Each square had a unique emblem engraved into the stone. Despite Twilight’s frantic searching, none of these emblems appeared in her books. As a whole, the rectangle seemed an incoherent, amoeba-like design. She turned to an empty page in her journal and copied the design.
The tour guide gestured to the stone, “As you can see, the ponies of long ago constructed this perplexing pattern that archeologists have yet to make sense of. No pony is certain about their function, but leading theories include the emblem served a purpose of moon worship or the individual tiles represented important individuals, such as chieftains, scribes, or warriors. As you can see, each tile has an individual design that has never been transcribed. Scholars are debating whether these tiles form a unique language and attempting to decipher a possible code. Of course, this is all speculation. The true meaning may be lost in time.” Twilight recorded the tour guide’s words on a separate page.
“Now if you’ll look closely, you—,” the guide stopped midsentence. He put his hoof to a black earpiece, where a radio voice spoke, and turned away from the tourists. After a minute, he removed his hoof and faced the tourists with an apologetic gaze. “I’m sorry folks, but I’ve just received word that there’s a storm approaching. Nothing too serious just some fierce winds. Unfortunately, we’ll have to conclude the tour here. The ruins can be unstable in such weather.” Several ponies groaned. “So if you’ll exit the ruins, we have temporary lodgings set up to wait out the storm. It might take three to four hours, but we’ll resume the tour afterwards.”
Ponies grumbled as they trudged back outside. Twilight herself was disappointed, but walked with the rest of them. She had a train to catch in two hours. She couldn’t stay and wait out the storm. Well, she could catch the next train or even teleport home, but her heart wasn’t ready for waiting or up to magic right now. She broke off from the group and headed across the gravel pathway through the forest. The train station came in sight, the lone concrete platform seemed out of place in the middle of the forest. Twilight walked up the steps and took a seat on a bench, beneath the suspended metal roof.
She examined the panel she transcribed from the ruins. Seeking some diversion, she decided to attempt her own deciphering. After ten minutes, she had the childish idea to rearrange the square tiles. After an hour, she had rearranged the tiles into a coherent image. The once meaningless tiles now formed an intricate symbol of the moon, of a mare wearing a crown surrounded by loyal bat ponies armed with spears, with spearheads shaped like stars. In the mare’s eye, Twilight could see a moon. At least, she assumed it was a moon. The night imagery combined with this civilization’s love of the moon allowed such an interpretation. Yet, there was a much larger full moon behind the mare. The moon in her eye had rays pouring from its center like a jewel shining in the sun. She noted the bat ponies’ spearheads aligned with the constellation Orion’s belt. She cracked the code. She decoded the message left by these ponies and found a clue to where an ancient relic might be. Twilight should have been excited. But even as she wrote her interpretation and conclusion, she found herself disappointed. She glanced to a brown clock hanging from a pillar and found her disappointment increasing.
She snapped her journal shut. This was pointless. She shouldn’t be out here searching legends. She should have been back at home. There would always be ruins to explore, but there would only be one Spike. He was growing up right now, and Twilight was still obsessed with academics as she was before coming to Ponyville. She went slack jawed. All this time she had been learning about the magic of friendship, but she neglected her oldest friendship. When was the last time she hung out with Spike and they weren’t doing a chore or saving the world? Her mind drew a blank. She had to get home.
Spike emptied the dust from the dustpan to its new permanent home in the trashcan. He covered his nose to stifle a sneeze. He didn’t want to set anything on fire. Spike returned the dustpan and brush to the closet before picking up his chore list and crossing off another task. Time for the final trial. The one chore that tested his mental endurance to the extreme: reorganizing Twilight’s books. Might not seem like an incredibly tough chore, but Twilight had thousands of books on practically every subject imaginable and reinvented her painstakingly meticulous organization system every three months. The chore list described the new organization system in detail, but Spike wasn’t sure he could understand it. For starters, why did Twilight want the books on realism close to books on modernism? Based on all the books detailing the debate between the subjects, he assumed they were archrivals. What even was modernism? He could remember two scholars going through hundreds of pages of baffling analysis only to conclude, “we don’t know what it is.” Modernism aside, a lot of Twilight’s books on physics, literary movements, mathematics, and ancient records baffled him. Sometimes, Spike wondered if they were written in a foreign language, some new hybrid of English. Classification was strenuous when he didn’t even understand the book’s content.
He sighed and picked himself up. His mind wandered a lot when he was left to his own devises Spike realized as he walked to the library. The castle could get lonely with only an owl for company. Ever since Twilight came to Ponyville, he ended up housesitting on a daily basis. Not that he minded. After so many years stuck in her books, Spike was glad to see Twilight made so many friends, even if he was a little jealous of those friends when Twilight left him alone for them. Opening the door, Spike faced countless books piled on the shelves several feet high. He reviewed the list again trying to grasp her new system well enough to accomplish the most obvious rearrangements. Dropping the letter on a table in the center of the room, Spike grabbed the ladder and wheeled it over to the center column. He examined the selection on the fifth shelf and located a headache-inducing book on literary time manipulation. He retrieved the book and swung his leg out, shifting the ladder to the adjacent shelf. Using guesswork, he placed the new book in place when a sudden banging door shocked him. He lost his grip and fell from the ladder.
He wrapped his hands around his face, bracing for impact when a violet aura caught him feet from the ground and gently placed him down. Spike twisted his head and saw Twilight rushing over to him.
“Oh my gosh,” she stammered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Twi,” he smiled. “Thanks.” Spike leaned forward, “Wait, what are you doing here? I thought the tour was over at 2 pm?”
“The weather got bad so the tour was postponed,” she explained, depositing her knapsack on the table on top of Spike’s list. “I didn’t want to miss the train so I decided to cut my tour short.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Spike brushed off some dust. “Anyways, I just started reshelving your books, so I’ll just get back to it.”
“Oh, um okay.” Spike moved back to the ladder, wary of Twilight’s eyes trained on his back. He didn’t exactly like working with some pony staring at him. He turned around to catch her, but Twilight shifted her eyes at the last second. He rolled his eyes and took a step onto the ladder.
“Actually Spike,” Twilight’s hesitant voice turned the dragon around. He sighed, wondering what new organization system she had developed in the hours she had been away. She swallowed, pursing her lips. Spike raised an eyebrow but Twilight kept fidgeting.
“Sorry, but I’d really like to get back to my work,” Spike said as he turned back to the ladder. He climbed back up to the shelf and looked through the titles. He could still feel Twilight gazing at him. Now he was worried. Had he done something wrong?
“Hey Spike,” Twilight started. His head swiveled to meet her gaze. She pursed her lips, “I was wondering if you’d like to go out and see a movie or something?”
Spike blinked in surprise. They hadn’t really gone to the movies together since Twilight was a filly. Usually they went to see some romantic comedy or educational film. They did go to a Power Ponies Movie a few years ago, but Twilight kept ridiculing the science and absurd costumes. It hadn’t exactly been delightful, even after she stopped talking and tried to enjoy the film. He guessed Twilight had some movie in mind that she wanted to see.
“Um, I was going to go see Rarity,” he said climbing down the ladder, “but sure, I guess we can check out a movie.” Well, he thought, whatever the movie, it has to beat reordering the library. He asked, “What do you want to see?”
Twilight beamed before her smile dropped for a second. Spike had no idea what to make of that gesture. She shrugged before putting on a smile, “Why don’t you pick?”
If Spike had water in his mouth, he would have shamelessly performed a spit take. “Seriously? The last time we went to see a movie I chose, you kept pointing out how everything was scientifically and historically inaccurate.”
“Not this time.” Twilight said, “You choose whatever movie you want to watch and I’ll pay for both of us.”
“Really?” Spike asked with a grin.
“I promise,” she smiled. Soon, they settled on a new Power Ponies Movie and Spike kissed his date with modernism goodbye.
Spike believed in karma. He learned through experience that misbehavior usually brought misfortune. Sometimes, not always, good deeds would be rewarded. But he had no idea what good deed he had done to earn this. Even as Twilight ordered their tickets, he could not make sense of it. He knew the whole “don’t look a gift horse in the mouth” saying, but he couldn’t help wondering why Twilight was being so generous today. They entered the chilly movie theater and Spike found he could no longer hold back his curiosity.
“Twilight, what’s going on? Why are you so interested in spending time with me?” He asked.
Twilight glanced at him with a solemn look that was quickly replaced with a weak smile, “Do I need a reason to spend time with my number one assistant?”
“I guess not,” Spike shrugged. “But are you alright—?”
“Great!” Twilight interrupted, “Now lets get some popcorn.”
“Hold on,” Spike said. “You never let me eat popcorn. You said it’s flavored cardboard cavities waiting to happen.”
“Well, I’m making an exception for today.”
“Why? I mean I’m not complaining,” his mouth watered with each word, “but what’s special about today?”
“Today is just for the two of us,” Twilight placed a hoof on Spike’s shoulder. “I’ve been thinking. We don’t spend much time together these days, do we?”
“I see you everyday, Twilight,” Spike chuckled.
“Exactly,” she drew closer to him, “we just see each other. We never really stop to just talk about how we’re feeling or do anything fun together. We’ve become roommates who just exist in the same house. I don’t want that for us. You’re my oldest friend, Spike, and I want to keep our friendship strong.”
“By bribing me?” Spike asked.
“This isn’t a bribe,” Twilight exclaimed. “It’s a reward. Think of it as a thank you for standing by me all these years. Now come on, we’re going to miss the show.”
Spike decided to accept Twilight’s reward. He had to admit she was right. They didn’t spend much time together these days unless Equestria was in danger. Sometimes, he let an ungracious thought slip that Twilight only thought of him as an intern. He knew that wasn’t true, but lately, he had felt a bit neglected. He smiled and followed her to the confections stand. Twilight bought a bag of overly priced popcorn before heading to the theater with her favorite dragon.
Twilight actually liked the movie so far. Sure it had mares and stallions in absurd spandex costumes, but it was harmless fun. She found herself more engaged with the characters and the witty humor than she expected. Spike certainly seemed to be enjoying himself. The dragon hadn’t taken his eyes off the screen the moment the movie started. He just sat there wearing a giddy smile that swept Twilight’s heart with joy. No pony could see that smile and not smile back. She turned her attention back to the screen. As entertaining as the movie was, Twilight still could not shake off her worry. The image of Spike growing into an adult and them growing apart clung to her mind. For now, she enjoyed her time with Spike while it lasted.
A few hours later, they left the movie theater and Spike was still geeking out.
“That was epic! I knew they were rebooting the franchise but I didn’t think it’d be this great. They not only respected Hum Drum and gave him new powers and an actual purpose, they nailed Zapp and Miss Mare-velous’s rivalry.”
“I’ll say,” Twilight nodded. “It was almost like watching our Rainbow Dash and Applejack competing. Are they always that reckless?”
“Well, this is a reboot so they were just getting with the superhero biz. None of them are the best ponies before they take on their roles,” Spike explained. “I mean Masked Matter-Horn is kind of stuck up in the comics until she met the other Power Ponies.”
“Really? How so?” She looked at Spike with playful narrow eyes. He remembered when they were transported into his comic book Twilight became Masked Matter-Horn.
“Well, you know she just,” he twiddled his fingers awkwardly, “didn’t really talk to other ponies.”
“I see,” Twilight laughed. She decided to change the subject. “And in the end, Hum Drum had to defeat Eclipso. I liked the part where he trapped him in an infinite time loop until Eclipso gave into his demands.”
“Yeah, whoever they got to play Hum Drum was excellent. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to see Hum Drum become the main character.” Spike smiled, “And that clip after the credits was so perfect.”
“I wanted to ask you about that,” Twilight said. “Who exactly was that big orange dragon with those funny rings?”
“That’s Draco Destroyer,” Spike explained. “Only the most evil being in the Power Ponies Universe. Whenever he comes around, the ponies are in for the fight of their life. See, each of his rings has a different power and together they can destroy planets.”
“That seems overpowered,” Twilight said. “Who could stand up to something like that?”
“Usually only Saddle Rager has the brute strength to match Draco. I mean Draco’s beaten her multiple times in the comics, but he always says that Saddle Rager is one of the few superheroes he tries to avoid fighting. When the Power Ponies work together, they can hold their own against Draco. Actually, some goofball character called the Chipmunk beat him, or the comics implied she might have beaten him or a clone of him somehow. But anyways, Draco is going to mean a whole new challenge for the Power Ponies.”
Twilight nodded with a smile, even though she understood Spike’s comic jabber as well as he understood modernism. At some point, they both had to nod their heads and just accept whatever the experts said, even if they seemed to speak in a foreign language. So Twilight kept smiling and pretended she understood every word Spike said. Spike stopped talking about superheroes and turned to Twilight.
“Thanks for doing this, Twi,” he said. “I had a lot of fun today.”
“We’re not done yet,” Twilight said. “The day’s still young and there’s so much we can do.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Just a minute, it’s your decision. I want to do something you want to do.” Twilight said, “So, what do you want to do now, Spike?”
“Um,” he thought a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time Twilight asked him where he wanted to go or let him decide what they would do. Consequently, he wasn’t sure where he wanted to go. “We could go to Sugar Cube Corner, Carousel Boutique, or Sweet Apple Acres.”
“Come on. We can go anywhere in Equestria,” Twilight said. She gasped with excitement, “How about Cloudsdale? You couldn’t come with us for the flyers competition so why not give you the grand tour now?”
Spike’s eyes widened, “Really? Are you pulling my leg? Cloudsdale isn’t exactly next door.”
“Of course I mean it. Don’t you want to go visit?”
“I’d love to!”
“Then it’s settled.” Twilight said. “I’ll just cast a spell to let you walk on clouds and we’re off.”
“I can’t believe you got all the Wonderbolts to give me their autographs,” Spike beamed as he proudly held the parchment bearing the signatures of every Wonderbolt Captain.
“Well, I am a princess,” Twilight said. “And my word is absolute. Plus, Rainbow Dash helped the request get through to Spitfire.”
“I’ll be sure to thank her when I see her,” Spike said. “And thank you, Twi.”
“It’s my pleasure, Spike,” she said. “Do you want to see the Rainbow Factory?”
“Can we?”
“Absolutely. They’re open for tours. Then we can see this year’s Best Young Flyer Competition. Dash got us front row seats.”
They walked along the clouds, which felt fluffy to Spike’s feet, yet solid as concrete. He tried tasting one but got a mouthful of water and gas. Twilight laughed and soon he joined in. Placing the parchment in his new Wonderbolt themed backpack, also courtesy of Twilight, Spike hurried across the clouds to a tall building with circular chimneys that exhaled clouds. He always had this idea that factories were filthy and spewed constant filth, but this factory produced milky clouds that melted into the blue skies and the windows shimmered with vivid red, yellow, orange, and purple.
“This is where they make rainbows?” Spike asked.
“And clouds and snow flakes,” Twilight said.
“Wait, if this factory makes clouds, where did the clouds we're standing on come from? I mean the factory had to exist before the clouds, right?”
“Well, I could tell you,” Twilight said. “But that probably wouldn’t be as fun as seeing the factory.” With that, she joined a tour group and a pegasus showed them through the factory. The pegasus was short and had a groomed haircut. Twilight guessed she was an intern, using this occupation to gain experience for a future career. In any case, she knew her stuff. She led the group through the factory with a cheerful smile as she explained the function of every individual machine and the history of the factory with skillful tact. Twilight was certain any questions Spike had were answered now. As they approached the rainbow hallway, she noticed Spike staring through the viewing window as the factory churned out new rainbows.
He cupped his mouth and whispered to her, “What do you think rainbows taste like?
“Don’t.”
“I wasn’t going to. I was just curious.”
“Sure you were,” Twilight rolled her eyes and chuckled.
Spike yawned as they approached the castle. This had been a fantastic afternoon. He couldn’t remember the last time he had so much fun with Twilight. Still, he was tired. As they entered the castle, Spike turned and gave Twilight a big dragon hug around her chest.
“Thank you so much, Twilight.” He smiled, “I had a lot of fun today.”
“Me too, Spike,” she said, returning Spike’s hug.
They broke from the hug and Spike yawned once again, “I think I’m going to turn in.”
“Me too,” Twilight agreed. As Spike went to his room, Twilight dwelled on their hug. She found herself wondering how much longer she would be able to hug him before he outgrew her. Sooner or later, she might not be able to wrap her hooves around him. She hoped he never outgrew hugs or came to see them as foolish.
Twilight retired to her room and sank into her bed. She closed her eyes, ready to sleep. Then, she remembered the wonderful day she and Spike shared and their hug. Those memories were tempered by the memory of Spike reaching over the table, and she had to face a terrible question. How much longer would this last? With that thought, any respite became impossible. Twilight shifted to her other side and focused on her breathing but found sleep unachievable. She couldn’t sit here snoozing when Spike was growing up with each passing day. Sooner or later, she might not be able to spend time with him, fit her hooves around him for a simple hug, or even have him there to greet her whenever she came home.
She jolted out of bed. One day with Spike wasn’t enough to make up for the weeks she left him alone. Throwing off her covers, she raced to her desk, turned on a lamp, and pulled out parchment, ink, and a quill. Twilight swore Spike had her full attention tomorrow and all days following. She charted their schedule together for the rest of the week. By the time she was satisfied with her punctilious and carefully plotted schedule, the night had ended.
His clawed hand silenced the ringing alarm clock. Spike stretched his arms over his head and arched his back, loosening his stiff limbs. He had a restful night but time to get back to work. Those chores wouldn’t do themselves, no matter how much they should. He took a step out of his bed towards the door. Spike opened the crystal door and found two bloodshot lavender eyes staring at him. He yelped, jumping feet off the ground. His claws sank into the crystal ceiling, as he swiveled his head to look at the intruder. Twilight smiled at him from the floor, her mane disheveled, bags under her eyes, and a green saddlebag on her side.
“Morning Spike,” Twilight said as Spike's claws dug into the crystal ceiling.
“Don’t scare me like that,” Spike said. “If I thought we were under attack, I could have let loose a fire breath and hurt you.”
“Never mind that,” Twilight plucked Spike from the ceiling with her magic and dropped him onto the floor. Spike noticed she did not set him down like yesterday, but just dropped him inches from the floor. She said, “We’ve got things to do.”
Twilight pulled out a scroll from her saddlebag and unrolled the parchment. She recited the contents, “9:30 am, surprise Spike with gem pancakes for breakfast.” She stiffened, “Oh no. I forgot to cook the pancakes.”
What?” Spike asked but Twilight raced away, dropping the scroll to the ground. Her hooves on the floor echoed through the hall. He chased after her, baffled and confused. Despite his short legs, he caught up to Twilight with some effort. Keeping pace with her, he panted, “Twilight, what’s going on?”
She noticed him and stopped. Her momentum propelled her a few feet, screeching across the crystal floor. She pushed Spike back with her hoof, “Do you think you could wait five minutes? I’ll have breakfast ready in a bit.”
“I can cook, Twi,” Spike said, resisting the urge to say he was a better cook than her. Twilight was possibly the most gifted magician of their generation, but her cooking skills were below average. Pinkie Pie once joked Twilight couldn’t cook a bowl of cereal. He might have laughed at the joke if it weren’t for a certain kitchen mishap some time ago.
“No, I’m doing it today. Just go back to your room and sleep a bit. I’ll call you in five minutes.” With that, she stumbled down the stairs. Spike blinked, his mouth agape, and scratched his head. Twilight looked like a mess. Her hair could have been a mop, her eyelids drooped over her pupils surrounded by red lines, and her legs quavered, as if standing was a trial. He hoped nothing was wrong with her. The sound of pots slamming on the floor accompanied by an “Oops” dashed all hope. He wasn’t going to stand by and let Twilight hurt herself.
Racing down the stairs, he came to a ghastly sight. Bags of opened white powder spread across the counter and the floor. Three pans had fallen to the ground and eggs splattered across Twilight’s face. Spike gaped. Twilight wasn’t a gifted chef but she was never this clumsy. He inhaled sharply through his nose and released an exasperated breath from his mouth, steadying his nerves. He walked right up to Twilight and pushed her out of the kitchen, ignoring her complaints.
Spike stamped his foot and raised his voice, “Twilight, that’s enough! You’re in no condition to be cooking.”
“But I –.”
“No, you’re just going to hurt yourself. Let me make breakfast. Go clean yourself off.”
Twilight sniffed. Her eyes feel to the floor, “I just wanted to make you a special breakfast. I had everything planned out, but all I’ve done is make a mess.” Spike felt his heart plummet. Twilight was trying to make him something special, and he was yelling at her. Sure she made a mess, but she only wanted to surprise him.
Spike sighed with a smile, “It’s fine, Twilight. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” He grabbed a rag and wiped the egg yolks off Twilight’s fur.
He said, “How about this? We’ll make breakfast together. You can be my little assistant.” He poked her nose, earning a happy laugh. Twilight beamed at him and said her thanks before wiping herself clean. They returned to the kitchen and cleaned up Twilight’s mess. Spike opened a drawer beside the stove and took out his apron and white chef hat. He wrapped the apron around his body, letting Twilight help tie the knot in the back, and put on his hat.
Flexing his fingers, Spike grinned, “Let’s get cooking.” With Spike’s culinary skills and Twilight’s help, they cooked pancakes for two. Twilight filled Spike’s pancakes with gemstones. Spike’s mouth watered at the sight. Even though they started out bumpy, Spike had to admit this was nice. There was no other word to describe it. It was nice to have someone beside him as he did what was normally his chore. Making breakfast with his best friend was nice. Those pancakes were excellent, especially with crunchy, delectable sapphires, rubies, and emeralds. Still, he worried about Twilight. Even as she smiled and ate, he couldn’t stop wondering how she worked herself into this state.
“So,” Spike said between bites, “gemstone pancakes. What’s the occasion?”
“There’s no occasion,” Twilight explained. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”
“Oh, well thanks,” Spike said. “But why didn’t you try to make these before I woke up?”
“I was busy. I guess it slipped my mind. Anyways, I have some plans for us today,” she opened her saddlebag. A frown spread across her face as she looked through bag. She turned the bag upside down and shook it, releasing several parchments. She gazed over each parchment with increasing irritation. Her eyes and upper lip twitched as her face contorted into a grimace. Spike knew that look. Twilight only looked like this when agitated. Either her workload stressed her or she misplaced something. Eyes still trained on the parchments, she said, “Where’s my scroll? I worked all night on it. I know I had it this morning. Where is it?”
“You mean the scroll you were reading about making pancakes?” Spike asked. “I think you dropped it outside of my room.”
“And you didn’t pick it up?” Twilight snapped, making Spike flinch. She softened her expression, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude. I’ll just go get it.” She scooted out her chair and walked off. As she stumbled away, Spike stared at her disappearing figure and worried. Twilight wasn’t the kind of pony to misplace an important item. Her organization system ensured she could not lose anything. More importantly, she seldom vented her frustrations or even her annoyances at him.
Minutes later, Twilight returned with the scroll sticking out of her saddlebag. She walked like a zombie, placing a hoof in front of the other and dragging herself across the floor. Her eyes were nearly shut, and Spike could have sworn she was sleepwalking. He tried to warn her as she approached the table, but she bumped into a table leg. Her eyes flashed open and darted around the room. She looked around with a confused glance, as if she just woke up from a dream. Still, she shook her head and unrolled the scroll.
She read, “11 am, Baltimare Comic Convention.”
“You want to go to a Baltimare Comic Convention?”
“We’ve never been before, so I thought it would be fun. I heard Hum Drum’s actor from the movie we saw yesterday will be making an appearance.”
Spike did like the thought of checking out an actual convention. He always wanted to attend comic signing, witness amazing cosplays, and watch movie previews. He furrowed his brow and folded his arms, “Are you sure you can travel like that?”
“Like what?” Twilight said, oblivious to her appearance capable of frightening Sombra. “Do I need to dress better?”
Spike resisted his urge to facepalm. “You need to look at yourself in a mirror. You look like Discord’s mother fused with an angry yak.” A thought, besides the unpleasant notion of Discord’s scary mother, crossed his mind. He remembered something Twilight had said. “Wait, did you say you worked all night on that scroll?” His eyes widened and he extended his palms in question, “Are you saying you didn’t get any sleep last night?”
“No, not really.” Twilight admitted. She walked past Spike and shifted through her various parchments strewn across the counter. This time, Spike facepalmed. No wonder Twilight looked so miserable. Hopping from his chair, he pushed Twilight out of the kitchen towards a sofa in the lounge.
“Really, Spike I’m fine,” Twilight protested. Spike shoved her onto the soft marshmallow of a sofa. Even as her eyelids drooped, she struggled against Spike. She yawned, “I just can’t sleep right now.”
“No, it’s bed time for you,” Spike said. “How do you expect to do anything if you haven’t slept?”
“But the convention—.”
“Will still be there when you wake up,” Spike said. He rested her head on a pillow and flung her saddlebag onto the floor. “We’ll go in a few hours after you’ve gotten some sleep. Okay?”
“But I can’t sleep. Not when we’re—.”
“Hush now, quiet now, it’s time to lay your sleepy head,” Spike crooned. “Hush now, quiet now, it’s time to go to bed.” Twilight’s eyelids grew weary with every passing second. She was too old for this silly old lullaby to put her to sleep. At least, she should be. But Spike’s singing voice combined with a filling breakfast and her exhaustion were wearing her down. “Drifting off to sleep, exciting day behind you. Drifting off to sleep, let the joy of dreamland find you.” Twilight fell into the couch.
“Just for a few hours,” she mumbled.
“Hush now, quiet now, it’s time to lay your sleepy head. Hush now, quiet now, it’s time to go to bed.” Spike left her snoozing on the sofa, returning to the kitchen so he could clean their dishes.
Twilight slept. She dreamed of Spike’s voice lulling her to sleep. He was so gentle, so sweet, so, she realized with a start, so mature. When did that happen? When had he become the adult and she the child? Her dreams of the little dragon transformed to a giant purple dragon flying away from Ponyville. Sleep became impossible. Her eyes closed, her breathing was steady, but her mind refused to settle. Several long hours later, she rose from the couch but restful sleep still eluded her. Believing Twilight had enough sleep, Spike headed out with her on the train to Baltimare. He was so excited to see the convention that he failed to notice Twilight swaying to the rhythm of the train. Even when they turned in that night, Spike did not realize Twilight was wide-awake.
The orange stallion jumped through his lasso just grazing the rope. With expertise acquired from years of practice, he threw the lasso around the bull’s legs. The bull collapsed in a thundering heap, but assured every pony he was alright. Ponies cheered, relieved to know the stunt had not harmed the bull. Spike thought how grateful he was that Twilight found them excellent seats beneath the shade. They were in a perfect position to watch the Appleloosa rodeo. Spike swallowed the rest of his apple cider, savoring the tangy flavor dancing on his tongue, and wiped the foam from his mouth. His eyes gleamed as he watched another stallion start the lasso trick. Twilight even bought him a straw hat shaped like Applejack’s, with a high crown and a wide brim. He couldn’t wait to show it to her when they got back.
“Not bad,” Spike nudged with his elbow Twilight. “But these guys couldn’t hold a candle to Applejack.”
“Yeah. She’s the best,” Twilight yawned, “at this.”
Spike glanced at her. He thought she had gotten some sleep, but that yawn concerned him.
“You feeling alright?” He asked putting a clawed hand on her shoulder.
“What? Of course I feel alright,” Twilight said.
Spike’s eyes narrowed. Twilight's half-closed eyes stared into empty space even though the rodeo was in front of her. He opened his mouth to follow the question when Twilight tensed up.
“Wait a minute,” she pulled a scroll from her saddlebag and scanned the contents. Spike rolled his eyes annoyed she interrupted him. Twilight’s eyes gaped with alarm.
“What is it?” He asked, “Is something wrong?”
“What time is it?”
“Um, I don’t know,” Spike shrugged, “3:30 maybe 4.”
“We’re going to be late,” she yanked him from his seat and bolted off the stands. “I made dinner reservations for 3:45 in Canterlot. I planned for us to finish watching the rodeo at one, but I lost track of the time. Now we’re going to be late!”
“It’s not the end of the world if we miss,” Spike bumped on Twilight’s back as she raced across the ground, “a dinner.”
“You don’t understand. This is a special Canterlot Restaurant. It’s exclusive and I only got a reservation because I’m a princess. I hope they don’t cancel.” Twilight stopped in front the station, her momentum carrying her a few feet forward into a sign. Shaking her head, she righted herself. Twilight inspected the train schedule on the bulletin board posted outside the platform. She groaned, “Oh, it’s no good. I’ll have to teleport us.”
“Do you really think you should be teleporting like this?” Spike asked. His question went unanswered as Twilight’s horn shimmered with a violet aura and they both vanished in a burst of light.
Spike rubbed his eyes. The spell blinded him like the flash of a camera, leaving splotches of color in his vision. His vision returned and he could only see blue. He wondered if Twilight had flubbed the spell and put them in the middle of an ocean. Then, he realized there was a strange pressure on his ears. He glanced at Twilight beneath him and his heart skipped a beat. They were now hundreds of miles above Canterlot.
They started falling. Spike lost his grip and fell off of Twilight. Miles below, Canterlot rushed towards them. He screamed as his stomach summersaulted and his hat flew away. A few feet from him, Twilight’s eyes were shut as they plummeted. Struggling against physics, Spike moved his arms like a swimmer. Inch by inch he came closer to the alicorn, but every second they fell another mile. Angling his head away from Twilight, he released a torrent of flames and rocketed himself into her. She jerked with a start. Flapping her wings, she grabbed Spike and made a gentle descent to a public square.
Spike rolled onto the ground, unsure if he wanted to kiss the ground or hyperventilate. This wasn’t the first time he almost fell to his demise, and he doubted this would be his last. But it was the first time Twilight had missed her destination and took a nap in the middle of a free fall. That settled it. She hadn’t slept. Rolling to his hands and knees, he took a calming breath.
He let loose his emotions, “What was that?”
Twilight staggered to her hooves, “I guess my teleportation was a little off.”
“A little?” Spike deadpanned. He pointed to the air above them where they had fallen. “You call that ‘a little?’”
“We made it to Canterlot, didn’t we?” Twilight smiled as she dusted herself off. Spike wondered if they were having two different conversations.
“A hundred feet above Canterlot is not Canterlot,” Spike stated through tight lips. His arms folded across his chest as he scowled at Twilight.
“Alright. Next time I won’t go teleporting miles away.”
Veins throbbed in Spike’s head. He muttered unintelligible words unsuited for someone his age.
“Oh hush. We’re here and that’s all that matters. Now let’s go.” With that, she levitated him onto her back and raced towards an elegant building. All the while, Spike fumed. Why wasn’t she listening to him? Why was she being so difficult? Spike’s frustration soon became concern. If Twilight wasn’t feeling well, she wouldn’t be able to perform the simplest spell or do any of her princess duties. He had to solve this now. Twilight swiveled her head and glanced at him.
“Oh Spike, you lost your hat,” Twilight frowned. “When we visit Appleloosa next month, I’ll just have to buy you another one.”
Spike’s heart froze. “What do you mean next month?”
During dinner, Spike excused himself to the restroom. He took a roll of toilet paper and a pen he snatched from a waiter to write a letter to Princess Celestia. He hoped she could remind Twilight about her royal duties or spur her to action. If any pony could talk sense into Twilight, she could. Turned out toilet paper couldn’t teleport like actual paper. He triggered the fire alarm. That spelled the end of their Canterlot adventures. Twilight and Spike boarded a balloon back to Ponyville, with Twilight grumbling every second of the way. He had to tell her what happened. Even sleep deprived, she could guess the fire breathing dragon set off the fire alarm. If she was watching him before, she wouldn’t take her eyes off him now. She planned to spend time with him according to the schedules she charted out for the rest of the month
As they touched down, Spike reached over the basket and dropped to the ground. The sun had yet to set and Twilight still had plans. He loved spending time with Twilight, but not when it made her such a mess. Talking to her at dinner didn’t work. Despite his efforts, he just couldn’t get through to her. She needed help from someone else.
“Hey Twilight,” Spike said after breakfast. Her glare, still bitter from last night, softened when she looked at him. He chose his next words carefully, hoping not to offend her. Last night, he thought about reaching out to some pony to talk sense into Twilight. Now he had to bring her to their friend without arousing any suspicion. “Do you think we could visit Rarity today?”
Twilight retrieved a scroll from her saddlebag and unrolled it. The words on the parchment were blurry and almost illegible. They already deviated from her schedule when Spike’s alarm clock went off twenty minutes late, no harm in a bit more deviation. She nodded and off they went.
Spike twiddled his fingers and bit his lip. When he considered which of his friends to reach out to, his mind went first to Rarity. She was levelheaded, considerate, and always made time for her friends. AJ or Fluttershy could have given some sound advice too, and he considered reaching out to them. He had a better excuse to bring Twilight to Rarity. She would understand how much he wanted to see his crush. He hoped Rarity could get Twilight back on track.
Spike and Twilight walked through Ponyville, receiving the occasional hello and ponies frequently staring at Twilight’s mess of a mane. He said hello to any greeting meant for Twilight, who was incapable of focusing on much beyond him.
They reached Carousel Boutique. Spike approached the door and knocked, hearing a familiar, melodious “just a minute” from inside the store. The door opened and there stood the designer Rarity. She opened her mouth to offer her customer salutations but recognized Spike and greeted him with a smile. Before she could say hello, she saw Twilight and did a double take, suppressing a scream. Spike couldn’t blame her reaction, but had to admire the way she quickly masked her shock and invited them inside. Spike noticed she was wearing spectacles, a clear indicator she was in the middle of working.
“Why don’t you two lie down on the sofa?” She gestured to a purple cushioned couch. “I’ll go put on some tea.”
“Mind if I help?” Spike said, hoping for an excuse to get away from Twilight and talk to Rarity. Thankfully, Rarity accepted his help. Before Twilight could even rise and offer her help, Rarity pushed the alicorn back into the sofa.
“Twilight dear, why don’t you give us some privacy? I’m sure Spikey-wikey and I can manage just fine.” Rarity and Spike left Twilight on the sofa and headed to the kitchen. When Spike shut the door, Rarity whispered in an urgent voice, “What happened to Twilight? She looks absolutely horrid!”
He explained everything to Rarity, starting from the day Twilight visited the ruins. She listened attentively, putting a pot of water on the stove to make tea. Might as well convince Twilight they were just making tea. Spike finished his explanation as she put tea bags into three cups and prepared tea. “And that’s why I came to you,” Spike said. “Nothing I’ve said is getting through to her.”
“Did you try saying you don’t need her spoiling you anymore?” Rarity suggested as she placed the cups on a platter.
“During dinner last night, yeah.” Spike said. “But she just got this strange look on her face, like she was about to cry, and then she became angry and shut me down, like I was being unreasonable.”
“You shouldn’t blame her too much, darling,” Rarity said as she mixed sugar and lemon into the tea. “When ponies don’t sleep, they get irritable and cranky. They can have difficulty controlling their emotions. Believe me, I know.” She blew on the steaming tea, and furrowed her brow. “Of course that doesn’t excuse her for taking it out on you.”
“If this keeps up, she’ll wear herself to the bone,” Spike clutched his head. “Then, she won’t be ready if Tirek or some other bad guy comes back. Who’s going to teach Starlight about friendship? Or write letters about friendship? Or take care of the castle?”
“Calm down,” Rarity placed her hoof on Spike’s shoulder. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll offer to style Twilight’s mane and ask you to go upstairs and help Sweetie Belle with some homework. Then, I can talk to her alone. Just tell Sweetie Belle everything and she’ll play along.”
“You think so?”
“She is my sister,” Rarity said, picking up the tray and carrying the teacups to the door.
They found Twilight staring at the kitchen door from her sofa perch with skeptical eyes. When she saw Spike returning, she relaxed slightly but kept her head bent over like a vulture, a very messy, purple vulture with insomnia. Rarity placed the silver platter on a cedar brown coffee table and levitated a cup to Twilight and picked one out for herself. Twilight mumbled her thanks and sipped the tea. She glanced at Spike and the remaining teacup and then back to him. He plucked the cup and swallowed the scalding drink in one gulp. Immunity to burns was a nice perk to being a dragon.
“So,” Rarity began, “Spike told me you two went to Cloudsdale a few days ago.”
“That’s right,” Twilight said. “We toured the Rainbow Factory and saw the Best Young Flyers Competition.”
“That brings back memories,” Rarity smiled. “Seems only yesterday Rainbow Dash performed a sonic rainboom for those judges and saved me. Did you see any good flyers?”
“None as good as Dash,” Spike said. “But there were a few nice flyers. We went to Appleloosa yesterday. There was a great rodeo going on.”
“Why darling,” Rarity gasped and looked at Twilight, “that sort of humidity in Cloudsdale and the heat of Appleloosa. It’s simply no good for a lady’s mane. You must let me straighten yours out.”
“I’m fine,” Twilight said. Rarity ignored Twilight and led her to a chair in front of a mirror. She opened a drawer on the desk beneath the mirror, pulled out a plastic sheet, and wrapped it around Twilight. She then levitated a comb, a hairbrush, a hair drier, and mane gel. Before Twilight could complain, Rarity began working on her mane.
“Oh, I just remembered,” Rarity said, “I promised I’d help Sweetie Belle with her homework, but I can’t now that I’ve started styling your mane. Oh whatever shall I do?”
Spike didn’t miss a beat, “I could help her. I’m not really into this mane grooming stuff anyways.”
“Would you? Thank you, Spikey-Wikey,” Rarity winked. “She should be upstairs.” Spike nodded and walked to the stairway. He reached the second floor and came to a white door. He knocked and heard Sweetie Belle’s voice. The door opened and the white unicorn stood before him. Spike forgot how cute she was. She reminded him of a little Rarity with youthful stamina and unflagging enthusiasm. Sure, he had a crush on Rarity and probably would forever, but he found Sweetie Belle charming.
“Hey Spike,” said Sweetie Belle, “What are you doing here?”
“Rarity said you needed help with your homework,” he said loudly so Twilight could hear, before whispering in an undertone, “Rarity wants to talk to Twilight alone. Please play along.”
Sweetie Belle blinked, stuttering a second, but exclaimed in a raised voice, “Oh right, my homework. Sure, I’d love your help.”
She led him into her room and closed the door. Spike had never seen Sweetie Belle’s room. It looked like Rarity’s bedroom but much messier. Crumples of paper poured from an overflowing trashcan, posters of famous singers and boy bands slapped on the walls, photographs with the CMC and Rarity covering her brown desk, and a white rabbit plush doll on top of her unmade bed. Spike took a moment to appreciate how Sweetie Belle was different from Rarity, not just in age but also in her unique personality.
“Sorry, I haven’t had time to clean up,” she shrugged. Spike had a strange notion that she didn’t really care what others thought about her room. “So what’s going on?” Once again, Spike reiterated his story. Sweetie pulled up a chair in the middle of his story and told him to take a seat before motioning him to continue. When he finished, she was silent for a moment.
“So you get to spend a whole month on vacation? That sounds fun.”
“No, not fun.” Spike grumbled, “It’s terrible seeing Twilight stretch herself so thin.”
“Oh, I guess I can understand how it feels watching your family working themselves crazy. Still, you’re lucky. I wish my sister would go out of her way to give me the best month of my life.”
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate what she’s doing,” Spike admitted. He could not deny the past few days had been entertaining. If Twilight was in better shape, every day would have been fantastic. “It’s just if she keeps doing this, she won’t be getting any royal duties done.”
“Well,” Sweetie Belle pursed her lips. She wanted to offer Spike helpful advice so she mulled over her words. A few seconds was enough time for her to reach the perfect solution. She said, “Maybe you should remind her about her job.”
“I’ve already tried telling her to get back to work. She won’t listen.” Spike said, destroying Sweetie’s deeply contemplated solution in the second it was formed. Still, she was undaunted. The CMC never gave up, even when giving up would be rational.
Her face lighted up with an idea. “Then, do something that’ll make her want to get back to work.”
Spike furrowed his brow, “Like what?”
“Whenever Rarity can’t concentrate on her work, she reads fashion magazines for inspiration” Said Sweetie, trembling with excitement, as she leaned closer to Spike. “I’m sure Twilight has something that inspires her.”
“Oh boy,” Spike said, lifting a hand to his right temple. Twilight drew inspiration from many sources of academics. He could never comprehend most of them. Modular arithmetic, Yakistanian literature, modernism, all were topics beyond his comprehension. Inspiring Twilight could be difficult if he didn’t even understand her interests. Before he could ask Sweetie for help, clomping hooves echoed outside and a violet aura wrenched the door open. Twilight approached Spike with Rarity trailing behind her, blubbering an apology.
“Spike, we’re leaving,” Twilight said with a voice that left no room for argument. She shoved past Rarity, who became indignant at the alicorn’s manner.
“Really Twilight this is most impolite,” Rarity huffed as her cheeks flushed. “I’m only trying to look out for you. Spike is worried about you and so am I.”
“And I appreciate your concern,” Twilight glared at Rarity through the corner of her eye, “but I don’t need your judgment. Besides, Spike and I have plans for today and I need to get back to the castle so I can get my schedule. If you don’t mind.”
“Twilight,” Spike exclaimed with frustration, “Listen to yourself. You’re acting like a spoiled brat. This is Rarity, our friend. She’s only trying to help.”
Twilight inhaled, “I know.” She bowed her head and flattened her ears. “I’m sorry, Rarity. But I want to spend time with Spike. I don’t expect you to understand but—.”
“I would if you’d just tell me,” Rarity interrupted.
Spike stretched out his palms in a plea. Twilight opened her mouth with a scowl, then closed her mouth, pursing her lips. Her narrowed eyes watered. She turned her face around and sniffed, trying to hold back her runny nose. Spike walked over and took her hoof between his clawed hands. When she refused to look at him, he placed a talon under her chin and guided her eyes to meet his.
He whispered, “Twilight, we want to help you. Just talk to me. I’m your friend. You can tell me anything. I’ll always listen.”
Tears rolled from Twilight’s face. She gazed into his emerald eyes, searching for the wondrous gleam he had as a newly hatched. Had that gleam been buried under a mountain of age and her own negligence? Was she beginning to lose him? Then, she wondered, most ominously, if he was ever hers at all.
Rarity offered her a handkerchief and wiped away Twilight’s tears. Twilight smiled, grateful she had not lost her friend. She inhaled, her chest shaking with the breath. Spike kept holding her hoof, even as he wondered what was making her so upset. Soon, Twilight composed herself and turned to Rarity.
“Thanks for everything. I’m sorry I treated you so poorly,” she said. “Please give me some time. I want to think about what you’ve said.”
“Do take care of yourself,” Rarity placed a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “And if you ever want to talk, I’ll always be here.”
The two left Carousel Boutique and headed for the castle in deafening silence. Spike turned to Twilight as they walked together. Rarity fixed her mane, straightening Twilight’s hair and trimming the snags. The bags under Twilight’s eyes faded, masked with makeup that blended into Twilight’s skin. A touch of lipstick and horn polish finished the transformation. With the gel keeping her mane in place, she almost looked like her old self, bangs and all. But the black lines around her crimson lined eyes where tears disrupted the makeup’s work indicated a mare far from healed. Spike swallowed a heavy sigh that descended painfully in his throat.
He had to do something. He didn’t know how to help Twilight and worried that directly asking her would cause further tears. His heart couldn’t take another crying fit. She appeared composed to any other ponies, but after spending years alongside her Spike knew better. He recognized a fractured glass wall that the slightest disturbance could shatter. They reached the castle and Spike held the door open, rewarded by a wistful smile. Twilight walked into the hall, away from him. He really had to do something. He had to lift Twilight’s spirits and get her back into her role. Sweetie Belle’s advice echoed in his head. Spike’s frills perked with new vigor and he raced in front of Twilight.
“Hey, I was sorting your books yesterday and couldn’t figure out where to put the books on modernism,” Spike said. “Do you think you could help me?”
“Sorry, Spike.” She said, “I’m not up for sorting books right now.”
“But,” Spike thought for a way to keep the conversation alive, “I think I might have messed up the system. I think I placed some postmodernist pieces in the middle of modernism because I couldn’t figure out the difference.”
“Modernism is typically epistemological while postmodernism is more ontological,” Twilight explained as Spike led her to the library. “I mean there are other distinctions but scholars often argue modernism deals with knowledge, or the individual’s incapacity for complete knowledge, and postmodernism with determination and the nature of being.” Twilight raised her head as she spoke. “In most modernist works, the author presents readers with fragmented pieces of the world through a subjective perspective that they have to make sense of, while in postmodernism,” as Twilight’s voice faded into scholarly, inaudible rambles, Spike began to regret this decision.
Despite his growing headache, he pushed Twilight into the library, and her voice stopped as she stared at her vast collection. Spike glanced at her, wondering if he really did misplace a book. Stars appeared in Twilight’s eyes as a gaping, childish smile spread across her face. She raced up the ladder Spike left on the center shelf and retrieved a book with a worn cover. As she flipped through the pages and her mind devoured the familiar course, Twilight plucked four more books from nearby shelves took a seat on the ground
“Spike,” Twilight’s voice snapped him to attention. “Could you bring me my journal? I think it’s in my saddlebag.” Spike noticed his chore list and Twilight’s saddlebag on the table. Eager to help, he retrieved the green book and rushed to Twilight, who opened her journal near the center page. She levitated her journal beside the books and traced the words with her hoof.
Without looking at Spike, she said, “Could you bring me a pen?” He grabbed her pen from the saddlebag. The moment he gave it to her, she began scribbling with blazing intensity. Spike could only stand by, wondering what she was up to, as the brilliant alicorn threw herself into her work. This whole scenario was familiar, blissfully familiar. All day, this continued. Twilight glancing from book to book and then back to her journal while Spike brought her brain food, water, and other tools. When the light outside began to dim, Twilight dropped her pen to the floor. Her eyes, fixed on what she wrote, paid no heed to her surroundings.
“I’ve done it,” Twilight gasped. She grabbed Spike’s shoulders and spun him around, “I’ve done it!”
“You did it!” Spike grinned. His brow tightened and he cocked his head, “What did you do?”
“I solved an ancient mystery,” Twilight said, as though Spike knew what this meant. “Several millennia ago, ancient ponies built the unnamed ruins near what is today Rumbling Rock Ridge, founded by this stallion.” she pointed to a drawing in her journal of a unicorn with a horn that had rays of light extending from a star at the tip of his horn, rearing up on his legs. “I didn’t know who he was at first because I couldn’t recognize the runes on the stone wall. I thought they were some lost language but now I recognize them.”
“Okay,” Spike said, ecstatic to see Twilight excited. “How are you sure?”
“Thanks to Princess Ember’s books on dragon culture. But I’m getting ahead of myself.” Twilight said. She glanced around, “Where’s my chalkboard? I need visuals.” Spike raced out the doors and returned a few minutes later rolling the board to her. Twilight grabbed the chalk and motioned Spike to sit in the chair, “With Princess Ember’s books, I could decipher the language of these ponies. I copied this drawing from the ruins,” she pointed to the unicorn in her book, “but had no idea what it meant. I translated it to ‘Arc Hoof: Chief of Light’ by combining ancient dragon and ancient pony languages and creating a new dialect.”
As Twilight wrote on the board in white chalk, Spike asked, “Why would there be ancient dragon runes at a pony ruin?”
Twilight snatched onto his question, “That’s an excellent question, Spike. It all has to do with Arc Hoof and Equestria at the time. Back then, ponies were nomads, traveling wherever they could find food. Arc Hoof must have been a chief of such a tribe at this time, and Equestria was very inhospitable. Without an alicorn like Princess Celestia to raise the sun or Luna to raise the moon on a consistent basis, every creature had to struggle to survive in an unpredictable climate. The few times the sun peaked over the horizon might last a day or a few hours. The only constant at this time was the full moon.”
As Twilight kept writing her system of translation in perplexing detail, Spike scratched his head, “If Princess Celestia and Luna weren’t around, who raised the sun and moon?”
“I’d hypothesize that the sun and moon can rise on their own, but it takes them considerable effort without magical powers.” Twilight said, “In any case, with the sun and moon in chaos, eventually they must have crossed and created a solar eclipse. I’d imagine every pony was scared, seeing the sun squashed under the moon. To them, it could have meant the moon was more powerful than the sun. To Chief Arc Hoof, this meant the moon controlled all light. By studying the full moon, he learned to harness magical energy latent within all unicorns. He performed the first spell in all of Equestria, an illumination spell. He is the ancestor of all unicorn magic as we know it.”
So far Spike followed and Twilight seemed reenergized. He said, “If this Arc Hoof performed the first spell, how come we’ve never heard of him before?”
“This is only a hypothesis, but centuries of disregard could have made ponies take this for granted. Sooner or later, hundreds of ponies would start claiming their ancestor performed the spell, making it difficult to pinpoint its exact origins. Plus, I doubt many ponies could read dragon runes and understand this language.” Twilight drew a crude map of the area near Rambling Rocks. She circled the mountain beside what would be Canterlot and turned to Spike, “Can you guess what this is?”
“Well, I think it’s the mountain next to Canterlot, but it looks more like a bunny with one ear.” Twilight rolled her eyes with a wry smile, which Spike took as permission to chuckle.
“Yes, it is the mountain next to Canterlot. Do you know why Princess Celestia built the capital of her empire here?”
Spike shrugged, “To be in the center of Equestria?”
“Alright maybe, but also because this mountain houses the most abundant vein of gemstones ever discovered, which fund a great deal of Canterlot academic research and support the crown. After ponies discovered the nearly endless supply of gems nested around and inside the mountains some millennia ago, ponies hid its location from all dragons and vied for total control of the mountains. Can you guess how this relates to Arc Hoof?”
Spike rubbed his chin and puzzled the question a moment, “Are you saying he found the gems inside?”
“Exactly,” Twilight beamed, “using his illumination spell he could make his way into the mountains and find the deposit.”
“How does all this connect back to dragons?”
“I’m glad you asked,” she said. “At this time, dragons were the dominant species of Equestria. Their tough bodies and immense strength made them suited for the harsh world. Their biggest fears came from other dragons. Motivated by their greed, they constantly fought each other for gemstones in battles that could ravage the land. This is when Arc Hoof came to the Dragon Lord of this time, Smoke, to negotiate. In exchange for a regular supply of gemstones that would alleviate dragon conflicts, Smoke swore no dragon would ever hurt a pony and pledged his protection to Arc Hoof’s tribe. Working together, dragons and ponies created the unnamed ruins where for the first time in Equestrian history, dragons lived side by side with ponies.”
Spike was sure his jaw dropped. With the subject turning to his fellow dragons, Spike found himself invested in Twilight’s lecture. When she said dragons and ponies lived side by side in the ancient ruins, she had his full attention. “That’s why there are pony and dragon runes at this place?”
“And it’s why much of their art displays dragons and ponies, even combining the two into bat ponies,” Twilight said.
“So what happened next?” Spike asked.
“Well, to cut a long story short,” Twilight continued, and Spike almost replied “too late” before biting his tongue. “When Arc Hoof and Smoke both passed away, both races grieved for months. The new chief and dragon lord agreed to place the most precious jewel of their civilization in the center of the new capital beneath the light of the moon. Three dragons and three ponies would guard the jewel every day and rotate every month under the full moon. Under the moon’s light, ponies believed that the jewel shined like ‘Arc Hoof’s first illumination spell dancing with Smoke’s proud flames.’ This jewel must have been the Eye of the Moon.”
“What then?”
“I’m not really sure,” Twilight said, “but I have a theory backed by solid evidence. Records show that centuries later, something terrible happened to all of Equestria.” She flipped over the board and began a list, “It could have been a plague wiping out dragons and ponies, the races vying for superiority, ponies becoming independent as they perfected new spells, dragons demanding more gems for their services, unpredictable weather changes, or new threats to Equestria. Whatever the case, tensions were high between the races. Then, there must have been a blood moon. I translated a record that said, ‘Arc Hoof and Smoke show their displeasure, that we their grandchildren squander everything they sought to achieve.’ Eventually, the races parted and the civilization disbanded.”
Spike sat mesmerized by this epic saga. He asked, “What happened to the jewel?”
“I think it’s still in the ruins,” Twilight said.
“I think most ponies would notice a gemstone in the middle of the ruins,” Spike said.
“Let me explain,” Twilight said. “From what I can tell, Queen Night Shine and Dragon Lord Fang agreed to hide the jewel. They would return it to its rightful place when their kinds could live together again. According to the panel,” she pointed to the drawing of the mare and her guards in her journal. “Only a pony who knew the secret of the ruins could solve the puzzle, but only a dragon could open the door. I’m not sure what the door is, but I imagine it’s revealed when some pony solves the puzzle. To reunite the races, they would have to work together.”
“Why didn’t they?”
“I don’t know,” Twilight confessed. “I would guess that the only ponies and dragons who knew were wiped out by the plague or it was simply forgotten. Soon, no pony alive could read the ancient dragon runes and no dragon could read the ancient pony runes. It became a legend, a fairy tale. But the Eye of the Moon might be real.”
“Twilight,” Spike smiled, “even sleep deprived and physically exhausted, you are the most brilliant pony in Equestria.”
“Thanks,” Twilight said. “Well, that was fun.” He and Twilight had different definitions of fun, but even he had to admit this lecture was fascinating.
“So are we going to look for that jewel?” Spike asked. Twilight’s eager, wide eyes and broad smile that said yes, but her enthusiasm melted when she looked at Spike’s eyes. She turned a brief glance to her journal then to the chalkboard. Her face contorted with a sudden look of horror. She dropped the books onto the floor and shuffled away.
“Oh no, not again,” Twilight muttered as she tore her eyes from her work.
Spike grabbed her right hoof, worried that Twilight was on the verge of a panic attack. Cadence had taught them how to calm themselves through deep breathing on a steady interval, but Twilight might not be able to focus. He inhaled through his nostrils, held for three seconds, and exhaled through his mouth. He repeated his breathing until Twilight picked up his movement and steadied herself.
“You alright?” Spike stared at her. Twilight smiled at him, and hugged Spike with her free hoof.
“Yes,” she said, “I just realized that I almost became my old self again, before we came to Ponyville.” Spike backed away unconsciously, his throat tightened.
“What are you talking about?”
“Before I came to Ponyville, all I ever thought about was learning and magic,” Twilight explained. “I never thought of any pony but myself. I was so wrapped up in my studies I never made any friends. I got so wrapped up in all this, I almost became someone I don’t want to be.”
Spike picked up her journal and flipped to the page with a drawing of a crystal. He pointed to it, “Don’t you want to find this? The Eye of the Moon could prove all of your theories. Your translations will change the field of archaeology forever. How can you hear this and not be excited?”
“Don’t you get it, Spike?” Twilight magically snatched her journal from Spike’s claws. “There will always be ancient artifacts and ruins. There will always be things to discover. But there will only be one you. None of this garbage matters compared to my friends,” she chucked the book across the floor. Spike gaped at the stranger standing in front of him. Twilight never treated her books with such carelessness.
He balled his fists, “Twilight, this isn’t you. What’s going on?” Twilight left the library. Either she did not hear Spike or she did not care. He was so close. He almost reached her.
Spike turned his head to the ceiling and shouted, wishing he had something to throw. He picked up a book Twilight had left on the floor and slammed it onto the table. He railed against Twilight’s stubbornness and against his powerlessness. When he could no longer shout, he sunk his gloomy eyed face onto the table. His forehead ached. He shifted to the right side of his head, so he could breathe.
His eyes rested on the chalkboard. Then, his eyes turned to the journal she had thrown to the floor, left open with its spine to the air. He trudged over and picked it up, hooking his claws inside. He flipped the journal over to see what page it fell on. How perfect, he thought when he saw the slapdash drawing of the crystal surrounded by notes. His plan was not a complete failure. Twilight was back to her studies, if only for a short while. Her discovery, inspired by some aspect of their conversation, invigorated the mare with newfound enthusiasm. Spike narrowed his eyes, a thought beginning to form in his mind. Twilight needed a reason to return to her work, something that would inspire her. Right now, he was looking at the perfect inspiration.
He pursed his lips. This was insane. He couldn’t solve a puzzle that baffled scholars for centuries. Spike turned a few page and found the solution, provided by Twilight. She said a dragon had to open the door which would appear once someone solved the puzzle. This was still insane. He couldn’t exactly waltz in and move around these tiles without several ponies spotting him. If he was stealthy maybe, then he scratched that thought. Stealth would be difficult in the midst of moving several stone tiles. What if he showed them some proof he was qualified to do so? He turned to the saddlebag Twilight left at the table and emptied its contents. Spike found the royal seal without difficulty. What was he thinking? He had no idea what he was doing. For all he knew, he might just make finding the Eye of the Moon impossible for any other pony or he could end up injuring himself. Twilight would never let him slip out anyways. She would know the instant he disappeared.
Spike remembered Twilight and gritted his fangs. She needed this. If he didn’t drag her out of this state, she would never return to he royal duties. Equestria needed her. Placing the journal on the table, Spike folded his arms across his chest as he planned how to leave without Twilight stopping him. After devising a plan, he went upstairs to Twilight’s room. She was leaning over her desk staring at a piece of paper with a quill resting in an inkpot when Spike entered her room.
“Oh hey,” she turned to him. “I was just putting together our schedule for the rest of the week. Tell me, would you like to go to Manehatten this Wednesday or next Thursday?”
“I don’t really have a preference,” Spike said. “But I really think you should get some sleep. I mean how are we going to do anything if you’re barely awake?”
“I don’t need any,” Twilight yawned, “sleep.”
Spike pressed his hands together and made his best puppy dogface, “Please, Twilight. Do it for me, so I don’t have to worry about you?”
Twilight sighed. She couldn’t say no to that face. She lumbered to her bed. One look at her pillow and she collapsed on top of her blankets. Spike slid a pillow under her head and whispered good night. Her lips curled into a dim smile. He tiptoed away and turned off the lights before closing the door. Returning downstairs, he found a parchment and quill, wrote a note for Twilight, and placed it in his room on his bed. He didn’t want her to wake up and turn over all of Equestria looking for him. After collecting bits for the train, Twilight’s journal and royal seal, and locating a flashlight, he headed for the train station.
With the sun beginning to set, most ponies were at home. The few still walking around Ponyville had late jobs or dates planned. He noticed Bonbon and Lyra sitting on a park bench under a tree. Spike took a long route around them, partly so they wouldn’t see him and partly so he wouldn’t interrupt their discussion. The sun had yet to fall past the horizon, but Spike knew there would be a full moon tonight. He wasn’t sure if Princess Luna could see him from the moon, but the possibility made him uncomfortable. A voice calling his name interrupted his thoughts. Spike twisted around to see a grey pegasus, with crumbs on her cheeks, waving from a café table. He returned the gesture, noticing the half-eaten brown muffin in font of her, before hanging his head and walking to the train station.
When he showed the ticket vendor the royal seal and paid his bits, he had little trouble getting onto the six o’clock train to Galloping Gorge. He located an empty booth and took a seat on the tattered, garnet-colored cushioned bench. As he waited for the train to depart, he opened Twilight’s journal and studied the puzzle. It seemed simple to him. He just had to rearrange the tiles and prove he was a dragon to open the door. So long as he didn’t have to fly, he could open the door. If Twilight was right, then he would find the Eye of the Moon. The train lurched and pulled out of the station. Spike narrowed his eyes, determined to help Twilight.
He flipped through the pages. Most of Twilight’s notes were gibberish to him, but he studied every word, aware the solution to open the door could lie before him. He came to the pages Twilight wrote a few hours ago, filled with an alphabetical translation of ancient symbols. One page listed the translation for ancient pony symbols, the next dragon symbols, and the third page detailed Twilight’s translation system utilizing both systems. He had twenty minutes, might as well study up. Twilight was counting on him.
At first, the archaeologists refused to allow Spike anywhere near the ruins after tour hours. Once he showed them the royal seal, they agreed to listen to him. In the face of Spike’s overwhelming evidence, courtesy of Twilight, they agreed to let him rearrange the central tiles on the condition that he returned them to their original place when he finished. They sent a team of experts to follow him and oversee every step. They carefully rearranged the tiles as Spike instructed to the image on Twilight’s journal of a queen accompanied by three bat ponies. Beneath the light of the full moon, beams of light filled the lines carved into the tiles.
The light diffused from the grooves and covered entire panel. Spike shaded his eyes as the white brightness intensified. The illumination diminished and then receded to individual tiles, where it narrowed into lines and symbols. Spike recognized those emblems from Twilight’s journal. While the archeologists ogled at the sight, he took a pen and transcribed every symbol. He then began to translate, his teeth chattering in the cold.
Twilight’s translation system wasn’t a simple alphabetical translation. Certain symbols together became certain phrases, while the absence of a single line or the addition of a tiny curve changed the meaning. Spike had no idea how she worked all this out, much less translated an entire record of history in a few hours. Nonetheless, he translated the runes and found a coherent translation. The symbols roughly translated to “Feed me and I live, yet give me a drink and I die.”
He assumed the door would open when he identified the answer. He groaned. Translating this was hard enough, he couldn’t solve some riddle. By this time, half of the archeologists had rushed back to headquarters to reveal their findings to their superior. Spike was so wrapped up in translating he didn’t think to stop them. The last thing he needed was other ponies claiming the Eye of the Moon before he could show it to Twilight. He shivered. The night was cold. He puffed some embers to warm his face. As the fire emerged, an orange light shimmered around the tiles before fading into the stone. He traced a claw around the edges where the light had shone, and furrowed his brow. His eyes widened, as he realized the simple answer to the riddle. What did dragons have that ponies did not? Spike unleashed a steady trail of green flames over the tiles, triggering the orange glow once again. The light enveloped each tile, hiding the stone image in luminescence, and flashed in a final burst of light.
Spike blinked, trying to wipe the splotches of color from his eyes. When his vision returned, he found a new image on the tiles. The mare with a crown now stood side by side with a dragon bearing the dragon lord staff, both had their races behind them and a single bat pony between them. The tiles had melted away above the mare and the dragon to reveal a flight of stairs that descended into a night dark tunnel out of sight. As the archeologists took notes in their own journals, Spike pulled out his flashlight from his knapsack. Before any pony could stop him, he entered the passageway. The archeologists called his name, asked him to let them explore, but he paid them no attention. He had a duty.
He only glanced back to find a mare reflected from the passageway by an orange force field. She recoiled, as though touching the field burned her. Spike raced back up, hoping he had not been trapped underground. The field didn’t try to keep him in and left him unharmed. Curious, he tried entering again and found no resistance. The barrier only kept the archeologists out. Spike pursed his lips and faced the deep stairway. He had to confess that he hadn’t completely outgrown his fear of the dark, especially dark, spooky places never tread by any pony before. Then, he remembered his duty. He said his thanks to the archeologists for all their help.
“I’ll take it from here,” he said. “It looks like I’m the only one who can enter anyways.”
“Are you insane?” screamed a mare. “You have no idea what’s down there.”
“I know that it could save my friend,” Spike muttered as he faced the darkness. He glanced up at the full moon. “This tunnel might not be open come morning. If we want to explore, we have to do it now.”
The archeologists talked amongst themselves. When their talking abated, a mare said, “If you even think you’re in danger for a second, come back immediately. Do you understand?”
Spike turned to face them and nodded. He gave them a grateful smile, turned on his flashlight, and headed into the darkness before he could think twice.
Twilight turned in her bed, dealing with more nightmares about Spike, when her head jolted from the pillow. Her body shuddered, soggy and cold. She could no longer recall all the details of her dreams, only the emotions they left. She glanced at the clock, hanging above her desk. Even after two hours of sleep, her eyes burned with exhaustion, her head thrummed, her throat constricted with piercing aches, and her heart was heavy. She didn’t want to sleep, not when she woke up feeling like this. Stumbling out of her bed, she glanced at her schedule still on the desk and tried to remember what she had already planned. Twilight knew she bought two tickets to a hoofball match this coming Friday, but beyond that, she was not certain.
The longer she looked at the parchment and quill, the more she realized how much she didn’t want to write it. She wanted to spend time with Spike, but lifting the quill to write a single word was a trial. Formulating her thoughts was impossible. She might as well have been trying to construct a house with feathers. A slight gust of wind and the building toppled. Maybe a walk could clear my mind, she thought. Spike usually became drowsy at 10:45 pm. In three more hours, he would be asleep. In the meantime, she decided to invite him to accompany her. Twilight left her room and made her way through the hallways to Spike’s room.
Dim lamplight reflected on the crystal floor beneath his closed door. She knocked on the door, “Spike, I’m going for a walk. I’d really like you to come with me.” Twilight hoped she didn’t sound too forceful. When she did not receive a response, she wondered if Spike was doing a chore, but then noticed the light coming under the door. She taught Spike not to leave the lights on, and he followed this rule even though he was still afraid of the dark, or “uncomfortable” as he would say. Maybe he hadn’t heard her or forgot to turn off the lights? She knocked again. Still no response. Twilight opened the door and glanced inside, finding the room empty. As she went to turn off the lights, she noticed a paper folded into thirds on top of Spike’s bed. She picked the note with her magic and found “To Twilight” written outside. Despite her exhaustion, she recognized Spike’s handwriting. She opened the letter and read, even though the letters blurred in her eyes.
Hey Twilight. This is Spike. I’m sorry to do this, but given your condition, I felt I had no choice. Ever since you went to the ruins, you’ve been acting odd. You haven’t gotten any sleep or taken care of your royal duties. Don’t get me wrong, I love that you want to spend time with me, but I can’t enjoy our time together when I’m worrying about you. Equestria needs you, and you can’t do your job if you only ever think about me. That’s why I decided to give you a reason to get back to your work. I’ve taken your journal and royal seal. I’ve gone to the ruins to find the Eye of the Moon. When I come back with it, I hope you’ll remember how many ponies are counting on you.
Twilight’s body became rigid, her lips parted wordlessly as the letter fell to the floor. Her hoof pressed against her chest as her lungs heaved. For all she knew, the ancient ponies could have rigged the ruins with secret traps to keep ponies away from the Eye. Spike entered a booby-trapped coffin of stone alone with no knowledge of safe excavation. Her horn shimmered, adrenaline pumping through her veins, as she performed a teleportation spell.
Even in her groggy state, she managed to land several meters of walking distance near the ruins. Her exhaustion dissipated as her hooves thundered across the forest. She wasn’t going to lose Spike. Not now, not ever. She burst through the unguarded entrance and noticed ten ponies she recognized as archeologists crowding the center panel. None of them turned when she raced over to them. She glanced at each of them, absorbed in their notes and fixated on the panel. Twilight did not pay the new design much attention and almost asked the archeologists if they had seen Spike. As she opened her mouth, however, she saw the open space in the center of the panel and the stairway that fell into darkness.
She raced to the stairway, but an orange light flashed before her eyes and repelled her with elastic force. Twilight found herself lying on her back with a dazed head. She rose and narrowed her eyes. After that failure, the archeologists now noticed her.
“Hello Princess Twilight,” said a coffee colored mare. “Sorry, we should have told you about the field.” Twilight placed a tentative hoof near the open space. The orange field appeared again and jolted her back.
She turned to the mare, “Where did this come from?”
“Well,” the mare said, “ever since that dragon came by—.”
“Dragon?” Twilight’s eyes widened, “Was he small, purple, with green spikes?”
“Yeah, that was him,” a bright blue mare nodded. “He came with a royal seal and suggested we rearranged the tiles. We normally would have turned him away but then he showed us impressive notes and translations, detailing the origins of the ruins. With the royal seal and his research, he convinced us to give it a try.”
“Where is he?” Twilight said, although she suspected the answer. Her frantic state must have unnerved the archeologists, who shuffled with discomfort and avoided eye contact. Twilight inhaled sharply through her nostrils. She needed their help, no sense in getting them riled up. She said, “Please, he’s my friend.” Their gazes softened as they recognized Twilight’s distress.
The light blue mare smiled weakly, “Long story short, he opened this door with his fire breath and went in alone.”
“What?” Twilight’s jaw dropped then her face contorted with fury, “Why didn’t you stop him?”
“We were too excited by the discovery, and none of us thought to stop him,” said a cherry-maned stallion. “None of us could follow in after him. We just thought he knew what he was doing.”
“How long has he been down there?”
“Two hours, I think.”
Twilight paced across the panel, cursing herself and wondering how she let this happen. Her anger melted into a sea of panic. Spike was down there because she hadn’t kept an eye on him. The alicorn pursed her lips and turned to the open space. Twilight extended her wings, a white light wrapped around her horn. The wind howled around her body and the ground trembled as a blinding orb grew on top of her horn. The archeologists covered their eyes, awed by the power before them, and stumbled out of range. Twilight ignored the voices of several ponies as she took aim at the orange barrier.
The moment she unleashed her spell, a single voice reached her, “Please! You could knock down the ruins!” In a second, Twilight realized she could cause the stones to collapse on top of Spike. She jerked her horn upwards, but half of the blast had already struck the barrier with the force of a lightning bolt. Even as the rest of her spell poured harmlessly into the sky, Twilight felt the ground beneath her crumble. Hairline faults spread from the open panel into the surrounding tiles. Within the tunnels, she could hear boulders grinding into each other as they slammed into the ground. From the open space, a house-sized cloud of dirt escaped into the open air of the ruins and showered down.
Twilight’s eyes burned with despair and her nose became runny. How could she have been so shortsighted? Any pony with half a brain wouldn’t attack a potentially unstable tunnel and risk a rockslide. Now, she may have doomed Spike. The barrier was still present, though it glowed at half strength. All that, and she hadn’t even taken out the barrier.
“Hey, can you guys hear me?” A familiar voice called from deep in the tunnel. “I could really use some help.”
“Spike?” Twilight exclaimed, “Is that you?” The following silence was unbearable.
“Yeah, it’s me.” Twilight’s tears became relief. Her friend was still alive. Her relief vanished when she remembered he was still in the tunnel. “So,” the voice called again, “I’m guessing you found the letter. Was that blast just now yours?”
“Yes,” she said as she wiped her nose with her hoof. “I’m sorry. I was so worried. Just come out so I can hug you, you jerk.”
“That might be a problem,” Spike said with a tinge of fear on his voice. “I dropped my flashlight during that quake and it won’t turn back on. I must have broken it. This place is like a maze and I can’t tell where I’m going.”
Of course, Twilight thought, why should it be easy? She studied the weakened barrier. After witnessing an intense magical attack deplete the barrier, Twilight concluded the ancient ponies designed the barrier primarily to repel physical forces. There were powerful spells in ancient time. She surmised ancient ponies would focus on blocking other living creatures from entering, rather than bolstering magic defenses. Twilight had no intention to unleash another magical blast, but she saw another solution involving magic. Her horn shimmered violet, causing some of the archeologists to flinch as they anticipated another blast. Instead, an illuminating orb emerged at the tip of her horn. She aimed her horn into the barrier and rocketed the light past the orange field into the stairway. A lavender string, shining like a glow stick, trailed from her horn to the light orb.
“Spike,” she called, “I’m going to send in this little ball of light. Don’t move until you see it, then follow the trail back to me. Got it?”
“Got it,” he called. Twilight propelled the orb through the darkness, leaving a purple trail in its wake. After a minute of descending stairs, she sensed the orb had reached the ground. Although she could see the distant light from her perch, she had to squint to make out the light from this distance. Soon, the orb would vanish beyond her sight and then she would be working blind. From there, she would have to rely on her magical tactile senses. Spike’s voice sounded close, so she didn’t think he was too deep in the tunnels. She split the orb into two and placed them on the adjacent walls. After several feet, Twilight felt the corners of two new tunnels leading left and right. She split the orbs into four and put them on both sides of the walls to detect any other branching tunnels.
After splitting her orbs for what she thought was the one hundred and twentieth time, she became disheartened. In her depleted state, she probably couldn’t manage enough orbs to navigate the entire maze. Six archeologists approached her.
“Princess Twilight,” said the coffee colored mare, “some of us can perform that spell. We can help.”
“I’d appreciate it,” Twilight smiled without turning from the open gap. “I don’t think I could manage sixty more like this.”
“Sixty?” exclaimed a second mare with a bewildered face, “That’s more than what I could do.”
“Enough chatter,” the brown mare replied, “we’ve got to do what we can. It’s our fault he got down there with no pony stopping him, so it’s our job to help fix it.”
Soon, peach, maroon, light green, turquoise, scarlet, and gold orbs with trailing strands joined Twilight’s search. Even with their help, Spike told them he still couldn’t see their lights. He issued countless apologies to Twilight, which only exacerbated her stress.
“Twilight,” Spike called. “I’ve been breathing flames, trying to get my bearings, but I can’t tell where I am. I made a map of the place but I can’t figure out where I am.”
“You made a map?” Twilight asked, “Do you think you could guide us to you?”
“I can’t see it,” Spike said. “I was on the path I knew would lead me back, but the quake must have thrown me off the course. And the walls are too slippery to climb so I can’t tell where I am.”
Twilight’s eyes narrowed at Spike’s words, a thought forming in her mind. She heard rocks collapsing after her intense spell. Given the dense plume of dirt that the tunnel exhaled, something massive must have fallen. A wall could have fallen and blocked the usual path. Another thought crossed her mind.
“Do the maze walls reach the ceiling?”
A moment later, Spike replied, “Not perfectly. There’s about a foot or two of space.”
“I’m going to move my orbs one at a time to the top of the wall. Let me know when you see one, and head towards it.”
Her fur damp with sweat, her muscles straining past their natural limits, Twilight clenched her teeth and pressed on. After the twentieth orb, she began feeling fatigue.
“Wait Twilight, I see it!” Spike called. “I’m heading towards it.” After a painful ten minutes, Spike called again, “I found a line. I’m following it home.”
“Hurry,” Twilight groaned, “I don’t think we can last much longer.”
Three archeologists collapsed to the ground. The other three ponies had to drop the spell, exhausted by the effort. Their two friends, not performing the spell, worked those incapacitated ponies onto stretchers and carried them away. Twilight couldn’t drop even one orb, not when she didn’t know which one Spike was following. Thirty minutes later, the line extending from her horn blinkered. She wanted to call out and tell Spike to run, but she had to focus on her spell. She heard footsteps in the darkness, approaching from the stairs. Spike raced from the darkness out of the tunnel and crashed into Twilight in a bear hug, causing her to release the spell.
“Are you okay, Spike?” She inspected him. Aside from being covered with dirt, he had no bruises or injuries. The archeologists excused themselves to give the two some privacy.
“I’m fine, Twi,” he said.
“Good,” she sighed, releasing the tension she had been holding. Her eyebrows knitted and frown deepened. Before Spike could speak, she grabbed him by a frill, eliciting a yelp. She glowered, “You are in big trouble, mister.”
“I’m sorry for worrying you,” Spike said. “I really am. But before you punish me, please take a look at this.”
Spike reached into his knapsack. He retrieved an object he had to hold in both hands, and showed it to Twilight. He held a clear, lustrous, white circular crystal that bore a spiraling midnight blue phantom. When held under the full moon, the inner midnight blue phantom shimmered with thousands of tiny white lights that glowed like stars. Meanwhile, the outer layer resonated with the moon’s light, absorbing every speck. The crystal reflected the moon’s silver glow across the ruins in a circular field. Golden flames patterned the circle and flickered around the circle when Spike rotated the jewel in his hands. Twilight was not attracted to jewelry like Rarity but when she saw this gemstone, her jaw dropped. There was no doubt in her mind that this was the object that eluded all treasure hunters.
“The Eye of the Moon,” she whispered. After several moments of staring, she looked at Spike, “Ponies have been looking for this for millennia, and you found it in one afternoon?”
“Only with your notes,” Spike said as he offered her the crystal. She grabbed Spike’s knapsack and pulled out her journal. She ripped blank pages from the book and wrapped them around the crystal, forming several layers of protection. As its light faded, Twilight wrapped the final paper around the crystal and delicately placed it in the knapsack. Spike twiddled his fingers and pursed his lips, “I’m sorry for being so reckless. I just wanted you to get back to your studies. When I saw how excited you were about finding the Eye, I thought it could help.”
Twilight’s eyes remained fixed on the crystal, wrapped in several layers of paper. She wanted to analyze every aspect of the crystal, to postulate its origins, to bring it to academic attention. She was so excited just thinking about studying it that she could barely contain her excitement. But then, she looked at Spike and that excitement vanished. She zipped Spike’s backpack shut and faced him.
“My studies are not more important than you.”
Spike sighed, “Look, I love that you want to spend time with me, I really do,” he put a hand on his chest when remembered all the fun they had this week. He frowned, “But there are other important things that you just can’t ignore. You’ve got royal duties and academic research to do, you have to train Starlight, look after your own health, and keep Equestria safe.” Spike was on the verge of tears. He hated waving off Twilight’s kindness, but he couldn’t back down. “You can’t spend every moment doting on me.”
Twilight’s mouth opened, but an unintelligible sound emerged. Her eyes were wide and she felt a familiar lump in her throat. She snapped her eyes shut, blinking away tears, and screamed.
“I’ve already wasted most of my life studying magic, protecting Equestria, and spending time with my friends when I should have been making the most of the time we have left!” Twilight covered her mouth the instant the words slipped out.
“Time we have left?” Spike blinked in confusion, “What are you talking about?” He clasped his hands over his heart and gasped, “Are you sending me away?”
“No, of course not,” Twilight immediately replied. “It’s just …” She searched for the best words to express her emotions and her turmoil from the past few days, but staring into Spike’s green eyes left her tongue-tied. Spike stroked her hoof and smiled gently. Twilight looked at the dragon she called family, swallowed with nervous apprehension, and closed her eyes.
“Spike,” she stuttered, “you’re growing up, sometimes faster than I can keep track.” She opened her eyes, unable to deny what she knew to be fact. Then, she poured her emotions onto the little dragon, “Ever since we arrived in Ponyville, I’ve watched you become a mature dragon willing to risk his life for Equestria. All this time, I never realized you’ve been growing up. Just the other day when you reached that table without standing on your tippy toes, I guess it was a wake up call. You’re not that little baby I hatched in Canterlot. I wanted to make the most of the time we have left together before you outgrow me.”
The silence following her exclamation haunted Twilight. Spike stood before her, having dropped her hoof and staggered back a few feet. There was no hatred or resentment visible in his eyes, only shock.
“All this,” he gestured at the disheveled alicorn, “because I reached over a table?”
“You never could before. I guess I just…” her voice trailed off.
“I can’t believe you,” Spike sighed. He shook his head and closed his eyes. Twilight opened her mouth to protest when she noticed his lips curled into a smile. He opened his eyes and gazed at Twilight with pure adoration visible on his face.
“You taught me how to walk, how to talk, that two plus two equals four, and ‘i after e except after c.’”
His eyes watered as his face lit with a smile, “You showed me that hard work and diligence always pays off, that I don’t have to change to be like other dragons because I’m fine the way I am. That I have to take pride in my work, and that friends put aside their needs for others. You’re my friend, family, and my hero, Twilight.”
Tears fell down his beaming face as he took a step towards the lavender alicorn. “You’re a part of who I am.” Twilight felt tears forming in her eyes as Spike wrapped his arms around her chest. “Even if I grew bigger than the moon, I could never forget you. ”
“How can you be so sure?” Twilight couldn’t stop the fearful question that plagued her thoughts. “You say that now but what if—.”
“You want to know why I could never outgrow you?” Spike met her gaze. “Because no matter how much I grow, I’ll still have the same heart, and you’ll always be there.”
Joyful tears fell from Twilight’s eyes. She exclaimed “Oh Spike,” and she embraced him. “Thank you.”
Spike’s smile faded and his hug weakened. “Ever since we arrived in Ponyville, you’re the one whose been growing.” Twilight put her hoof on his shoulder as he left the hug and looked away from her. “A few years ago, I was probably the only friend you had but now you’ve made friends all across Equestria.”
Spike let out a soft smile that did not reach his eyes. “You’re the one who constantly risks her life for the world. If anything, I should be afraid of you outgrowing me.”
Twilight placed her hoof under Spike’s chin and guided his gaze to meet hers, “I told you once and I’ll tell you again. I’m never going to send you away.” She looked into his eyes with loving warmth, “Like you said, no matter what will happen I’ll still be me. No magical power or adventure could ever change who I am or what you mean to me.”
“And,” Spike twiddled his fingers, “what do I mean to you?”
“You’re the first friend I ever made. You’re my family. You keep me calm when I’m stressed. You remind me that there’s more to life than musty old books, that I shouldn’t try to be perfect, that it’s alright to fail so long as I never give up, that even as an alicorn I’m still the same pony you know and love. You’re proof that not matter what comes my way, I’ll always have friends beside me.”
She smiled, feeling all their fears flowing away. “You’re right, Spike. No matter what happens in the future, we face it together.” With that, they shared one last embrace, a promise to each other.
Twilight showed the Eye to the archeologists, but asserted that the Eye belonged to Spike as he discovered it. With his permission, she would give them the Eye for academic study. The one pony capable of speaking said that Twilight was more qualified to study the Eye than any of them. The other archeologists had to concur. While they and all of Canterlot were bumbling for answers to the ruins, Twilight and Spike solved the mystery on their own. Twilight promised to mention their invaluable help in her report when she sent the Eye to the Canterlot Museum. The coffee colored mare handed them a proper case for the jewel and waved them farewell. Twilight walked through the forest path with Spike on her back.
“So,” Spike said as they neared the train station, “you going to get back to your studies?”
“Well, first I’m going to write a letter to Princess Celestia.” Twilight said, “Then I should apologize to my friends for making them worry and mail the Eye to the Canterlot Museum after some tests.” They reached the platform and sat on the benches. Twilight frowned and glanced at Spike, “But when we get home, you’re grounded.”
“What? Why?” He opened his mouth indignantly.
Twilight gave him a stern but gentle look, “You ran away without telling me and could have gotten hurt. I know you wanted to get me back to work but you still went too far.”
Spike sighed. He should have known his good luck wouldn’t last forever. Although he had decent counterarguments, he felt too exhausted to fight back. As long as Twilight didn’t overwork herself, he could endure a day or two of reorganizing the library. He shrugged, “I guess that’s fair.”
“But, I think we can keep it short.” She hugged him. “Just a day or two. After all, we have tickets for that hoofball match this Friday.” Twilight laughed and Spike smiled. He was glad that his punishment wouldn’t last long and that they would still spend time together.
“I think I should be grounded too.” She said, “For making you and every pony worry. Until Friday, I won’t read my new Daring Doo book or any novels.”
“Don’t worry,” Spike said with a chuckle. “I’m going to make sure you’re too busy sleeping to do anything.”
Twilight inspected her letter under the lamplight once again.
Dear Princess Celestia,
Recently, I became worried that I have been neglecting Spike all these years to focus on my studies. I realized that he was growing up and didn’t want him to outgrow me, so I spent days devoting my time solely to him, which caused me to abandon several of my royal duties. Even when he voiced his concern, I was adamant on spending time with him. Once I just confessed my fears, I learned that a powerful bond of friendship and love connects Spike and me. Through all the time we have spent together, we’ve formed bonds cemented in our in our memories, our adventures, and our hearts. There’s no point for me to worry about growing. Neither of us can abandon the other, no matter how time changes us or tries to separate us because we’re a part of each other.
Sincerely, Twilight Sparkle
PS: I’ve already bought us tickets to the Hoofball game this Friday so I won’t be available on that day until 5:00 pm. Hope you can understand.
“You done yet?” Spike asked with a wry smile. Twilight nodded and rolled up the scroll before handing it to Spike. He looked at her with a raised brow, “Do you really want to send Princess Celestia a letter at three in the morning?”
“Is it really that late? It’s past your,” a yawn escaped and colored her last word, “bedtime.”
“How about we send this when we wake up?” Spike suggested. Twilight nodded and slipped out of her chair. Spike turned off the lamp and placed the letter on the table. He grabbed Twilight’s hoof and led her to the bed.
As he tucked her under the covers and turned to leave, he felt a hoof wrapping around him and pulling him under the covers. He flinched in surprise and looked at his waist. Twilight’s purple hooves held him tight as the alicorn drifted into peaceful sleep. He scooted his head onto a pillow and made himself comfortable.
“Goodnight, Twilight.” He whispered into the darkness.