The Linguist
Cold.
Twilight Sparkle shivered in the glowing winter breeze. Wrapping both wings tighter around her chest, she winced as her sprain protested. Looking down from her vantage, she could barely make out the din of bells ringing and refugees clamoring as they lined outside Crystal Castle to receive their identification cards and ration stamps.
Fluttershy landed gently behind her, a satchel wrapped around her back. “I brought you apple pie, Twilight,” she breathed, unfastening the strap. “Applejack’s been trying to experiment with some winter varieties. She wanted you to test the results.”
Twilight weakly pushed away the offered plate, before pausing to consider her response. “The embargo,” she eventually stated. She pointed a hoof in the direction of the refugees. “Need it more.”
Fluttershy put a caring hoof on Twilight’s back. Twilight’s wing shriveled again in pain and she grit her teeth, causing Fluttershy to quickly withdraw. “O-oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Twilight sighed, turning her head away. “It’s okay, Fluttershy.”
Both ponies stood quietly, listening to the howling wind and the distant shouts.
Fluttershy spoke up again. “The ponies need you to lift their spirits, and that means not starving, Twilight. We’re all worried about you, too: Pinkie Pie says you haven’t eaten in three days. If you can’t can’t do it for the kingdom, do it for us.”
Twilight stared at the pie, then at Fluttershy, then at the pie again. Her stomach growled. She glumly accepted the offering, chewing slowly.
Fluttershy smiled. “Thank you, Twilight. Is it good?”
Twilight swallowed carefully, slightly relaxing as she felt the pie’s warmth spreading throughout her. “Yes, it is.” She paused to stare into Fluttershy’s eyes. “You’re a good leader, Fluttershy. Better — better… me.”
Fluttershy gasped. “Twilight!” she exclaimed. “Don’t ever say that about yourself. One mistake does not — ”
“Mistake?” Twilight exclaimed. “Celestia, Luna, me. We lost, badly; never saw the enemy. Rainbow Dash is chained, broken somewhere, her weather powers stolen. Ponyville is assaulted every day… unending blizzards. Ponies can’t protest, resulting — ”
All of a sudden, a low buzz filled the air, causing the birds above to flap around wildly. As the buzz grew quickly into a shrill screech, the shield bubble around the Crystal Empire was briefly illuminated, blossoming into every color of the rainbow.
Twilight watched as the arc spell passed over the Crystal Empire, its inhabitants untouched. For weeks, Canterlot had been sending out these intermittent pulses, presumably to debilitate the Empire’s populace. The shield always stopped it, though, but it grew weaker with every rainbow. It was beautiful, and beautifully ironic, Twilight thought.
“Resulting from that.” Fluttershy was watching too. “If Rarity was here, she’d probably say something about how fate is a cruel mistress,” she observed.
“She’d be right,” Twilight responded, with a bitter chuckle.
“I didn’t want this role, Twilight,” Fluttershy said. “Neither did Big Mac, and neither did Marble Pie. When the spell first hit, and took everypony’s language away, we were the ones that got lucky. It was just one big, twisted accident.”
“I should consider myself lucky too,” Twilight murmured. She’d only lost the use of her prepositions and conjunctions. “Regardless, taking anything away just hurts.”
Twilight recalled seeing the first pony who’d had everything taken away, and shivered again. He had babbled, howled, cried, and eventually given up. Word had it that he’d learned to cope by just hugging random ponies in the streets. Applejack had it hard, too. Twilight thought it a cruel twist of fate that she’d been reduced to her brother’s choice of vocabulary.
“I know, Twilight,” Fluttershy stated. “You were always the linguist. The invaders were smart. They took away what mattered to you the most.”
Twilight took time to have another small bite of the pie. “Imagine a month back,” she added with a wry smile, “saying Marble would be the most talkative Pie sister.”
“Oh, I couldn’t,” Fluttershy responded. “But she’s been doing a wonderful job. The ponies love her. At least the spell couldn’t take away their ability to cheer.”
Twilight stared at the ground. “Fluttershy,” she mumbled. “I really, really admire your optimism. I just wish I had any left… all I’ve done.”
This time, Fluttershy stared into Twilight’s eyes. “Twilight,” she said firmly. “Have you explored the city at all?”
Twilight shook her head.
“Then we’re going on a walk,” Fluttershy insisted. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Twilight had a lot of noes to give, but she buried them and followed Fluttershy down the hill.
The city was stunning.
In the evening sky, candles gently glowed, illuminating the farthest of alleyways and staving off the chill. Shoddy, makeshift, but brightly colored tents housed aid workers distributing food, clothing, and water. Mothers, reduced to the vocabulary of their children, rocked babies to sleep while humming songs that words couldn't describe.
“Just wave, Twilight!” Fluttershy exclaimed.
Twilight shook her head vigorously, so Fluttershy started waving first. As ponies waved back, Twilight slowly brought up a hoof, giving it a tentative wobble.
“Fluttershy!” one pony exclaimed. Fluttershy opened her hooves, and they hugged.
“Princess!” another pony shouted, and Twilight’s heart sank.
Twilight approached the mare, guilt written on her face. “Everything… failure… why?”
The mare put a soft hoof on Twilight’s chest. This time, it didn’t hurt.
“You. Nightmare Moon. Sombra. Tirek. Discord. Victory,” she enunciated. “Friendship.”
“You’re right,” Twilight agreed. “Friendship is magic.”
She looked around again, observing the hustle and bustle surrounding her. Now, she noticed a farm pony’s confident stride, the soul of a nearby chorus, and the glimmer in everypony’s eye. All of it pointed towards two things.
Defiance, and hope.
“You’re right too, Fluttershy,” she proclaimed. “I have… will make things right. Everypony, my friends, all Equestria needs it. I’ll make do. Everypony else is making do, too.”
Fluttershy stared forward at the rising moon, determined. “They denied our language, Twilight, but they didn’t deny our spirit. We’ll fight till the end. They may laugh at us now, but what happens next, Twilight?”
Twilight clenched her hoof, ready to face the years ahead. “We’ll win.” Suddenly, her snout, as if possessed, began to shake as she struggled to start her next sentence.
Fluttershy gasped. “Twilight! You’re fighting the spell!”
Twilight furrowed her brows, refusing to give in. “After that, then we’ll see who’s laughing.”