> Counselor, Heal Thyself > by xRei > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Who Councils the Counselors > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Starlight took a deep and steadying breath. Moving her body had become a monumental task. With each step she took down the school halls, daggers shot up her hooves and made her wince. Her joints grinded like gristle as her legs pumped endlessly onward. She hardly took notice of her surroundings as she trudged towards Twilight's office. A massive stack of folders floated alongside her, suspended in the glow of her magic. Each folder had a name attached, one for each student, minus the few students she still needed to see next week to complete the report Twilight had requested. Ah, the joy of being a guidance counselor. Normally her workload was small. The students rarely used her services, which wasn't surprising when most of them were ponies who already had their cutie marks. They knew what they wanted and needed from life already. What was left for her to guide and council them about? What to eat for lunch? They hardly needed her. That was, until recently. The aftermath of the incident saw every creature in the school at her door for the past week. Day in and day out she talked and talked… and talked. Her mouth was sore and her patience wore thin. This couldn't go on any longer. There wasn't enough coffee in the world. They were running out of her favorite blend in the faculty lounge. Thank the goddess it was Friday! And right on cue, the final bell rang out across the school, signalling the beginning of the weekend. Ponies (and others) came shuffling out of their classrooms and trotted through the halls. It couldn't have come sooner, but as Starlight watched the students she could sense the wrongness of it all. The hustle and bustle of a normal Friday was gone. There were no students racing each other down the halls, no streaks of feathers and talons ripping around overhead. No excitement. Normally she had trouble maneuvering the cordidoors without bumping into someone, rabid to start their weekend. But not today. Not since the incident. The worst part was the unsettling quiet. Conversation was subdued. Ponies—and gryphons and hippogryphs and a certain little flutterbug—milled about in hushed tones and somber faces. The very color from the school was drained of its life. It was like the heart of the school was trapped in an icy, winter chill. Starlight did her best to put on a smile to the students which trotted past her on her way to deliver her reports. They would return her smiles, nod and acknowledge her. It was all cordial and polite. And it was all an act, as much from them as it was from her. After making her way through the sea of listless eyes and faces, Starlight stood before the door to Twilight's office. She paused. Hesitation gripped her. It was more than student reports on her mind. She'd talked with nearly every student and took their burdens upon herself, but she was faced with a counselor's dilemma: who counseled the counselors? Hopefully, a friend. Twilight was the only pony she could talk to about her troubles, and after the past week, she had many. With a resigned sigh, Starlight faced the purple and gold inlaid door to Twilight's office. She shoved the doors open with a loud thump of her hoof and stepped inside with her files following along. The office was decorated in the same fashion as the rest of the school. Full of it's own outlandishly tall pillars and flowing tapestries, it was exactly the kind of pomp and circumstance Starlight hated. A spire-like window behind Twilight's small desk let in the dim light of the cloudy afternoon, casting uneasy shadows over the room. The Ponyville weather team had made time for cloudy, overcast weather today, which did little to improve the mood. Starlight took a step toward the desk and put on her best smile for her friend. The bookish mare sat on the opposite side of the desk in her usual spot. Beset by teetering stacks of paperwork with her pen and quill at her side, she was truly in her element. The relish and fervor which she worked was an inspiring sight as always. In her frantic scribbling and muttering, Twilight didn't even notice that she'd come in. Books and papers and staplers swirled around her head, gripped by magic, dancing to a perfectly orchestrated beat which the young princess controlled. The accuracy and efficiency which she could multitask was beautiful. And a little frightening. Starlight coughed loudly. Papers, books and office supplies exploded outward from Twilight as the startled mare shrieked. "Starlight!" she shouted, "Don't sneak up on a pony like that!" While Twilight scrambled to catch the paperwork raining down around her, Starlight looked back over her shoulder at the door she'd just barged through, then to her towering stack of paperwork, suspending in the bright, obvious glow of her magic. Finally, she turned back to her friend as the last piece of paper from the air was snatched with a pink halo of Twilight's telekinesis. "I truly am the master of subtlety," Starlight deadpanned. Twilight ignored her and gaped at the stack of paperwork she'd brought in. "My goodness, is it already that late?" she asked, swatting a frayed strand of hair from her eyes. "I'm afraid so." Starlight gave a solid kick with her rear hoof and sent the office door flying shut with an uncomfortable clamour. "Didn't you hear the bell?" The way that Twilight hung her head and sheepishly smiled said it all. "Well," Starlight said, dancing around her friend's awkwardness, "I finished all the reports you wanted for the end of the week." Twilight circled around her desk and approached the mountain of papers. "All of them?" "Well, almost all of them," Starlight admitted. She tried to hide herself behind the stack of paperwork as Twilight approached. "I still have twenty more students to interview. I really did try to get to them all before the end of the week." "Oh, so only twenty student's left?" "Only?" Starlight asked, confused. "I expected the report would take far longer. You're amazing!" Twilight exclaimed, "I'm extremely impressed you helped so many of our students before the end of the week! A small kindle of excitement and pride sparked inside her, dimmed, and then snuffed out as she thought about the conversation she wanted to have. The lack of joy on her face was quickly noticed by Twilight. "Is everything okay?" "It's… been a long day," Starlight said. The haphazard stack of paperwork was set down between her and Twilight, and after taking a moment to steady it, she released it from her magic. She sighed with relief to be rid of the burden. Two violet eyes poked from around the stack. "I know the feeling! I've been going crazy trying to get everything done this week." "I noticed," Starlight said, eyeing the devastation on Twilight's desk. "I'm surprised to see so much; you usually tear through it in the blink of an eye. Hasn't Spike been helping you?" "He has, but I've been giving him a chance to relax the past couple of days." "Oh, how nice," Starlight said while she rolled her eyes. "For Spike, anyway." Twilight giggle from behind a hoof. "Come on, don't be like that. I promise everypony will get a chance to unwind soon. I'll be scheduling extra time off for all school staff and students once things settle down around here." Time off. The mention of it was like neclar to Starlights ears. Time could heal most wounds. Most. Many students had already recovered, but some of them would need more time than others. The staff were no exception. "How about you?" Twilight asked, "How have you been?" "As well as can be expected – I guess." "You guess?" "Yeah," Starlight said, drawing out a long sigh, "I guess I just keep wondering why you put a pony like me in charge of counselling." She hung her head from sight as soon as the words left her mouth. Before Starlight could spiral further into self-pity, something tickled across her withers: Twilight's wing. The delicate touch of it played along her back and calmed her nerves. She looked up to meet her friend's eyes, expecting Twilight to be frustrated. But she wasn't. Twilight smiled, radiating patience and understanding. Starlight's stomach did somersaults as she tried her best to smile back. "They trust you, Starlight. As do I." She must have heard those words a thousand times, and she hated herself for doubt she felt each and every time. "I know you do, and that's why it's so upsetting that I…" Starlight shut her mouth tight. With growing concern, Twilight leaned in closely and searched her face for answers. When she refused to yield, the lavender mare asked, "What upset you?" "Being trapped in that stupid bubble," Starlight said, leaning into Twilight for support. "You and the others—our own students—did everything. They trusted me and I failed." "It's not your fault," Twilight said in a firm voice. "I should have seen it coming. I mean, me of all ponies." Confusion broke out over Twilight's face. "What do you mean 'you of all ponies'?" Starlight's stomach twisted in knots. Her friend, her very best friend, saw right through her. It was like she'd become one of Twilight's books; the mare could read her as easily as one these days. "Nothing," she said, dismissing the topic with a casual wave. Trying for a giggle and getting a dry, cracked chuckle instead, she added, "I'm just being stupid. Let's forget I even said anything at all." "You're not stupid for being upset about what happened," Twilight said, cutting right past her evasion and carrying on like before. Why did she think that would work? Starlight muttered under her breath. "I know." "And you know you can always talk to me if you want, right?" Starlight nodded. "Good," Twilight said, engulfing her in soft, downy feathers before she could escape. "You know what? Why don't we go do something nice after we finish up here? I think spending some time away from the school and relaxing could do you some good." Eager to flee from the subject at hand, Starlight nodded emphatically. "Sure, what did you have in mind?" "We could go to the library, or… oh! Maybe we could try the spa! Rarity is always trying to drag me there. What do you think?" Being swept up in her best friend's feathery embrace and getting invited to go have fun was an alluring offer. For a moment, she nearly forgot about the damned itch of her tormented mind. Maybe going with Twilight and forgetting her troubles was the best option? It could be good for both of them. The two didn't go out very often and she liked spending time with her. Of course, Twilight was a hassle sometimes too. She wasn't stoic and quiet like Maud, who never failed to respect personal boundaries. Not to mention Trixie who, like her, was bad at expressing her feelings – or more to the point, wasn't so incessant about sharing them like Twilight was. She's the 'Princess of Friendship' so what can you do? But regardless of those faults, Twilight was still kind. Funny. Maybe a bit eccentric at times, but that was part of her charm. She was a little weird, but Starlight liked that about her. She adored the quirky, zany discussions about magic and science and the nature of the universe and pony kind's place in that universe. Twilight was fun. Sharing morbid thoughts and dark, depressing emotions was not fun. But as much as going and chilling at the spa would be wonderful, it was only a fleeting joy. The thought which tormented her couldn't be massaged away, even by the exquisitely talented Spa Sisters. No, she had to face the music. But as she thought about it, her body grew hot and her lips trembled. What if Twilight didn't agree? The two often argued about things, but it was also true the princess was quick to reconcile. But what if she got mad? What if… "Starlight?" She jolted and took a step back from her friend. "Wait." "Okay," Twilight said, blinking slowly. She cocked one brow higher than the other, obviously confused by the suddenness of her retreat. "Do you want to go somewhere else?" "No," Starlight said. As soon as the word left her lips she balked. "I mean, yes, I'd love to do all those things! I haven't been to the spa in forever." The corner of Twilight's mouth curled up, the barest hint of a smile, which didn't last long as Starlight continued. "What I'm trying to say is that I have something else I need to talk about first." "Oh!" Twilight chirped, "Well why didn't you say so?" "What? I've been trying to." "You have?" Starlight's brow furrowed. "Haven't I?" Finally, Twilights confusion gave way to exasperation and she groaned loudly. "If you have something to say, then say it! I promise I will do everything in my power to listen, and, if possible, help!" The lavender mare took a deep breath and fixed a gentler gaze at her. "What's bothering you? You've been acting strange all week." Again, she felt like an open book. "You noticed?" Starlight asked. "Of course, you're one of my friends," Twilight said. Then, in a more conspiratorial and quiet tone she added, "One of my best friends." She was sweet. And in hindsight, none of her other friends had even noticed her distress. Neither Maud nor Trixie; though it was just as likely they noticed and never mentioned it. Unlike them, Twilight was much more… forthcoming with her feelings and observations. "The Princess of Friendship having best friends?" Starlight said with a smirk. It was a cheap, easy way to prolong the inevitable. Twilight predictably folded her ears back and pouted. "I'm friends with everypony. I am 'The Princess of Friendship'. No playing favorites." Starlight rolled her eyes. "Of course not, Princess." "I just so happen to spend more time with certain friends because they're more… available." "Uh-Huh." "I cherish every one of my friendships!" "Naturally." It was all Starlight could do from bursting into giggles when Twilight glowered at her. The young princess sat her plot on the ground and crossed her forelegs. The tongue she stuck out was the icing on the pouty cake. "You're a butt." "That," Starlight said, snickering softly, "I can definitely agree with." After a pause, both mares shared a hearty, if not short-lived chuckle at their own expense. The unearthly quiet that set in after the laughter died down said the pleasant times were coming to an end. It was time. "Now come on," Twilight said, resting a hoof on Starlight's shoulder. "No more delaying." Like a damn book. "Tell me what's wrong?" How exactly did one summarize a week long anxiety that took control of your life? How could she describe what it was like to wake up in cold sweats every night and be unable to get a normal night's sleep? How could she explain the burning, consuming fire of doubt that wouldn't go away? Thankfully for Starlight, her torment had a name. "Cozy Glow." The overcast skies darkened at the invocation of that insidious name. That name which had passed between ponies around school for the past week in hushed, terrified whispers. A name which was on everyone's mind, but which no one could bring themselves to speak aloud. "Oh," Twilight said, her wings falling to her sides listlessly. "I guess I suspected, but didn't want to bring it up so soon." She glanced at the tower of paperwork that Starlight brought in. "I've been expecting your report on everypony— everyones —condition. How are they taking it?" "They're understandably upset," Starlight said. She shuffled on her hooves and met Twilight's eyes with a grave look. "They trusted her… As did you." Twilight nodded and played with her forehooves. "I don't think anyone could have guessed Cozy Glow was so evil." "Evil?" Starlight asked, her eyes narrowing. "You think so?" "She could have taken over all of Equestria," Twilight said, fanning her wing out to demonstrate the breadth and severity of the situation. "She nearly succeeded in draining Equestria of its magic! And without magic…" "No friendship, right?" Twilight didn't answer, but shivered at the wrongness of it. "But," Starlight continued, drawing Twilight's perked ear. "Is it really okay to call her 'evil'? She's only a foal, Twi." "Yes," Twilight said a little too quickly, tapping her hoof restlessly. "We did what had to be done. The fact she's young doesn't change what she did." "Yeah, but–" "Please!" Twilight shouted, startling her into silence. "It wasn't something we chose to do lightly." The feverish pitch of Twilight's sudden outburst put the gravity of the situation into perspective. But in spite of her insistence, Starlight's doubt remained. There was no doubt the little filly was deranged, but the sister princesses, plus Twilight and Cadence, had passed down their judgements on the very day it all happened. The whole affair came and went in the blink of an eye, happening so fast that nopony had time to even think about what happened, much less object. "It's Tartarus, Twilight. We sent her to Tartarus!" "Yes!" the alicorn snapped, her teeth gritting momentarily before she collected her calm. "We did what had to be done." She sat upright, her muzzle pointing in the air, her posture a cloak of poise and authority. She wore it poorly, Starlight thought. Twilight sighed, the weight of her actions an almost tangible force, pushing its way from her lips in a slow, wispy stream. "Sending little Cozy Glow there—being one of the four responsible for making the choice which put her there—was one of the most difficult experiences of my life." The distress on Twilight's face cut Starlight to the bone. The hurt and betrayal inflicted by Cozy Glow had affected so many. "I'm sorry," Starlight murmured. "I didn't realize how upset you've been." "Thank you." Twilight's face softened. "It's not something I've wanting to talk about. The other princesses and I made our choice and we stand by it." We. The royalty. Twilight also wore her title poorly. She continued. "But is that what this is all about? About us choosing to send Cozy Glow to Tartarus?" It wasn't—not entirely—but the desire to abandon this painful conversation was becoming an overwhelming force with every word they shared. Going to the spa would be immeasurably more enjoyable than wallowing in this vile, unpleasant business. But Starlight knew it would only errode at her more and more if she didn't address it now. "Not entirely," she said with a long, tired sigh. The lavender mare—always a friend first and a princess second—discarded her thin veil of regal poise and returned to Starlight's side once again. The warmth of Twilight's body as it leaned against her was a welcome comfort. Obvious concern was written on the princesses face, and Starlight smiled back from behind troubled eyes. "Tell me?" Twilight asked, resting a consoling hoof over one of hers. There was no turning back. Starlight's eyes grew hot and her throat became dry. After a few failed attempts to force words from her throat, Twilight stroked her hoof. It was calming, and helped her find her voice. "Twilight," she said, swallowing painfully. "Why… why didn't you—why didn't the princesses—send me to Tartarus?" The question stunned Twilight into a confused silence. After an unbearable eternity passed, her brow furrowed and her ears pinned back against her head. Her face changed, transforming in painful measures, until it was clear a horrified realization had gripped her. From behind those wide, desperate eyes Twilight gasped, shook her head, and stammered a hasty reply. "Oh my goodness, no! We would… I would never! You're not like her, Starlight!" "I'm not?" Starlight said, her voice pinched. Defiance welled up inside her. "What makes me so different?" "You're a good pony," Twilight said. Her hoof pressed urgently on Starlight's. "Whatever wrongs you've committed have been repaid again and again." "Princess, I nearly plunged Equestria into a dystopian future with an eternal war being waged against Sombra. Hay, what I did was potentially worse than what Cozy was trying to do!" "Potentially," Twilight said, fixating on the word with desperation in her voice. "But you didn't. You wouldn't." Starlight wasn't much of a crier. Never was. But as she felt Twilight's words of comfort wash over her, the tears wanted to come. They begged to be released, but she shoved them down, blinking hard to prevent them from leaking out. "How can you be so sure?" The young princess's lips trembled ineffectually. When no words would come, she stared between her hooves and wrapped her wings against her body as if to shield herself from the miasma of contention in the room. Starlight pressed more urgently, her mouth becoming a floodgate, bursting forth with a deluge of scathing thoughts and troubled what-if's. What if she'd rejected Twilight's offer all that time ago? What if she'd refused to change? What if she's just as evil as Cozy for all the things she'd done? As the troubled mare continued to blurt out one rhetorical question after the next, she rose up and paced frantically around the room, wearing a well-trodden path into the velvety carpet. Twilight watched in mute horror, unable to silence her. Starlight needed to get it all out and was thankful her friend remained quiet to hear her. After what seemed like hours, her venting came to a slow, shuddering stop. "—I'm afraid, Twilight… I’m afraid that could have been me! I could have gone to Tartarus; I could have turned my back on friendship, our friendship. If a little kid like Cozy could be sent there… then I…" She shook her head, paling at the thought of being sent to the otherworldly prison, of being surrounded by evil and malice for the rest of her days. It was disturbing enough to imagine a young foal being there, and far worse to see herself there. But Twilight's rejection of that unwritten and unrealized fate, her unwillingness to yield even an inch to the inner darkness which Starlight feared, was a beacon of hope in a storm. The purity of her faith made her incapable of seeing any trace of evil within Starlight. She refused to see it. But unlike her, Starlight could see it. "All it would have taken is that one little thing," she said, her body trembling. And then the tears came. She couldn't stop them. No force in Equestria could have. "If I'd turned my back on you, Twilight. If I said 'no' when you offered me a second chance..." Her eyes closed tightly, burning. Her lungs shuddered. "I would be there, just like Cozy…" She felt like a fraud. Here she was, friend to the bearers of the elements and personal friend to the princess of friendship. She had status, comfort and security. She was living the good life while Cozy rotted in Tartarus. And if Cozy deserved to be there, then surely she did too. It was all so stupid and unfair and crazy. None of it made any sense. Her entire life made no sense! But as she wallowed in her despair, a familiar tickling, soft and reassuring, touched Starlight's withers. The feeling shocked her, but she recognized it immediately. With reluctance, Starlight opened her misty eyes. Twilight had returned to her side and blanketed a wing over her back. The princess shed no tears, but her lips were pressed into a thin line, fighting against her own inner turmoil. Without hesitation, Starlight pressed her head into the crook of Twilight's neck and let out a single sob. The princess's hoof reached around behind her, tracing down her back. A shiver of warm pleasure shook through her tired body. "You aren't there with her," Twilight assured as she gently stroked. "You'll never be there, Starlight. Because you didn't turn your back on me. Because you aren't like her at all." Starlight knew her friend was right, but guilt still haunted her. "How can you be sure I’m different? What would you have done if I said no," she asked, wincing at her own tactless insistence. The princess looked away and sighed. "Please don't make me think about such things!" "I need to know, Twilight, what would you have done? What if I had said 'no'?" Twilight hesitated, her silence a dreadful answer. The frown which passed between them said they both knew. The truth of it was laid out, stark and bare, yet Starlight needed to hear it from her friend directly. She implored Twilight with her eyes. She knew the princess would be too honest to not tell her the truth, even if it pained her to admit it. She knew she was being selfish, asking her best friend to do this, but she had to. And with obvious discomfort, the young princess gave her what she wanted. "We would have...." Twilight fought to speak, but she didn't dare stop. Their eyes met, locked together, seeking comfort and understanding. Neither mare dared to look away, respecting each other far too much to turn their back now. How Twilight found the courage to speak again was beyond Starlight's comprehension. But she did, and passed down her honest and pained judgement. "We would have sent you to Tartarus." The words struck Starlight like physical blows, winding her. The breath from her lungs was expelled with a racking, painful shudder. Thoughts of being sent to Tartarus, forever alone with the misery and torment she'd bought upon herself, bore down on her with a terrible, crushing weight. Never before had it ever seemed so real as it did when Twilight spoke those terrible, awful words. To imagine that she'd stood upon a knife's edge on that fateful day, with all her life and livelihood balanced on the utterance of a single word. "Oh Gods," Starlight cried, wrapping herself in her hooves as the dreadful reality of that day and it's consequences played out in her mind. Twilight pulled her closer with her wing, holding fast to her, a life preserver in a storm. The two sat this way in the shadows of the pale afternoon light, quietly reflecting on what had been said.  It wasn't until Starlight stopped shaking that Twilight risked breaking the uneasy silence with another attempt to console her. "There's so much good in you Starlight, and I've always seen it there. Why can't you see it too?" Ignoring the question, Starlight challenged her one last time, "You could see the good in me, but not in her?" Twilight fell silent. "Not in her?" Starlight pressed, pulling back from her friend's neck and staring at her with pleading eyes. "Not in her," Twilight said with tragic, cold finality. Starlight continued to stare, trying to understand what she was hearing. The young princess frowned, then dropped her head an inch, her ears doing the same, and spoke in a whispered tone: the voice of secrets which can never be shared. "We tried," she said, looking more miserable than Starlight had ever seen her before. "When we brought her before Tartarus, standing at the gates… the princesses and I… we tried to reason with Cozy." All Starlight could do was gape at her friend. She'd never heard about any of this. The official news reports said Cozy was taken to Tartarus and summarily sentenced. Nothing more, nothing less. But the agony in Twilight's eyes brooked no disagreement, and Starlight did not question her as she explained. "She wouldn't listen. Luna was quick to judge her, but I felt there must be some chance to change her... to make her see reason and accept our friendship. We argued and I… I yelled at Princess Luna." Twilight winced in remembrance of the event. "I said she was turning her back on Cozy too easily." "Bucking hell," Starlight muttered, unable to contain her shock and horror. "You yelled at Luna? The commander of the royal guard and headmistress of the secret service?" She shuddered at the thought of it. You did not fuck with Princess Luna. Twilight took a deep, steadying breath and pushed on. "Fortunately, Celestia and Cadence were there to calm us both down. We all came to an agreement about what to do after that." Starlight leaned forward, her ears twitching erratically as she listened. Seeing this, Twilight managed a coarse, throaty chuckle. “Don’t worry,” Twilight said, winking at her friend."We made up later, Luna and I." Relief washed over Starlight and she let out a burning hot breath she'd been holding. After regaining her thoughts, she asked, "What about Cozy? What did you all decide?" "I begged her," Twilight said. Both her ears pinned back and she shook her head in a slow, somber motion. "I pleaded, but she wouldn't listen." "But you tried," Starlight pointed out. "What more could anypony ask?" Twilight's head shook more fervently. "I wanted Luna to be wrong; I wanted to show them that Cozy could come around, but…" This time it was Starlight's turn to stroke her mentor's hoof, offering her what meager comfort she could. She understood Twilight's pain, because she'd experienced that same disappointment. "But sometimes they can't be changed," she said, finishing Twilight's thought. Her friend looked up at her and frowned. Then, almost reluctantly, she nodded. "Yes." "But you tried," Starlight said, reinforcing her earlier point. "Just as I tried with Queen Chrysalis." Sudden realization sparked in Twilight's eyes. "That's true, you did, didn't you?" "It's like you said," Starlight admitted. "Sometimes they can't be changed." "Even if I wish they could," Twilight agreed. "And the fact you try so hard... that, Twilight, is why you're worthy of the title 'Princess of Friendship'." The princess chuckle-snorted and waved a hoof. The return of her smile, the first genuine one since their talk had begun, signaled a return to normalcy between them. "Besides, sometimes," she said, leaning in for a quick, warm nuzzle on Starlights cheek. "Sometimes they do change." Starlight returned the nuzzle and smiled. Her burdens were lighter on her shoulders. Not gone, but pushed somewhere deep into the recesses of her mind. A smirk crossed Starlight's lips. "You know what definitely can't be changed?" The princess cocked her head. "Work," she said, jerking her head toward the labyrinthian forest of paperwork. After Twilight followed her gesture and was reminded of the stacks of folders, some of the color left her cheeks. She tossed her head back and groaned. "Uhg! I really miss spike." For all her misgivings about being school counselor, Starlight didn't envy her friend's position as headmistress. Not for a second. "You going to be alright?" she asked while giving a longing glance at the door. "Me?" Twilight asked. She rolled her shoulders. "Don't you worry, I'll finish all this work in no time." To prove her point, the princess grabbed several documents from the endless piles and shuffled them about with magical strings. The smile she gave looked too strained to Starlight. "I guess if you're sure," Starlight said, turning to face the door. Outside the sturdy oak slab of a door was relaxation and pleasure. The spa called to her. Along the way she could grab a bite to eat and put this whole mess behind her, a lighter heart and a brighter smile, Cozy Glow a distant memory. But as Starlight approached the door, she paused and turned back. Twilight shuffled papers about her in an ever impressive display of administrative prowess. The princess, her friend, always by her side when she sad, feeling depressed and useless, or facing insurmountable struggles. Who councils the counselors? For her, that was Twilight. But who helped the helpers? The princess always seemed to be shouldering the mantle of responsibility on her own. She wore it with dignity, but Starlight knew her friend needed help as much as the next pony. She smiled, and knew precisely how to help the overworked princess. "Hey Twilight?" The princess hummed a reply, acknowledging she heard Starlight, while focused on the small vortex of papers flying about her head. Starlight took advantage of her distraction to come sidle up next to her and look over her shoulder. "I was just thinking I could help you," Starlight said, "And I know just the thing to do." Twilight's head whipped back. "You do? You know I don't expect you to help out more than you have, you've already done so much this week! And it's really my own responsibility, not yours." She nervously glanced at the paperwork, then chuckled while rubbing her forehooves together. "Of course, I guess I could make an exception this time?" "I thought you might," Starlight said, flashing a toothy smile. "So what did you have in mind?" Twilight asked. She gathered the swarm of paperwork buzzing around her and brought it into a neat little line in front of them. "Maybe a spell? One of Maredenkainan's scribing enchantments?" "Even better." The disbelieving, violet eyes of Twilight turned into saucer plates. "Better than that? Madness!" Starlight leaned in closer to her mentor, her smile never faltering. The young princess clapped her hooves together and nearly vibrated off the floor. "What we do is," Starlight said, then stopped short, falling dramatically silent. Twilight hung on her every word. A bright flash of cyan burst from Starlight's horn, momentarily mesmerizing Twilight. That is, until she yelped and fell to the floor, her tail gripped in the cyan glow of Starlight's telekinesis. "Wha?!" Starlight turned and faced the door leading out of the office and casually marched forward, pausing briefly to open the door. Twilight flailed her hooves as she was dragged across the carpet; the precious folders and papers she'd been holding fell to the ground in a splatter. Starlight paid this no mind and cheerfully marched through the door. "What we do is, we forget all this work and save it for Monday and we go to spa," she said, stringing along her declaration into a single, unbroken belch of words. Twilight barely had time to register what was happening and watched, helpless, as her paperwork was left behind. "No!" she gasped, grasping for purchase on the floor with both her hooves. "My paperwork!" "This is as much for your own good as mine," Starlight tittered. "My work ethics!" "Can't you already feel Aloe and Lotus' hooves? It's gonna be great." Twilight reached toward the door of her office as she was pulled away from it. Then, with a solid clank, the door was shut firmly by a little wave of Starlight's horn. The paperwork vanished from sight. Twilight gasped. "My checklists!" Starlight chuckled and pulled her friend along. She'd drag the mare kicking and screaming to relax and have fun if she had to. They could put their troubles behind them and deal with them another day. Gone, but not forgotten. Never forgotten.