What if you could see somepony as they truly are? Would you still be able to love them?
Twilight reads about a way to view a pony's soul, to see everything about them laid bare. When she tries it on her friends, will she be able to look at them the same way again? Or will the secrets hidden in their hearts drive her away?
(Yes, I borrowed the idea of a "soulgaze" from The Dresden Files, because it's something that really fascinates me. It's not a crossover, just an idea.)
Spike had come to Twilight’s bedroom to make sure she was ready to leave. They’d scheduled a nice group dinner with the rest of their closest friends for that night, and the time was drawing near. Unfortunately, the unicorn had apparently become so lost in her books that she’d forgotten what day it was. Again.
Twilight jumped at the unexpected intrusion to her reading, then relaxed when she realized it was only Spike.
"Sorry Spike," she said, an embarrassed flush rising to her cheeks. "It's just this book! The descriptions of magic are completely wrong! You'd think the author had never even heard of unicorns before!"
Her assistant peered at the cover questioningly. "The Blackstone Cases?" he read aloud. "You know that's a fantasy series, right?" Her behavior was beginning to worry him. Obviously, Twilight always took her reading seriously, but she could at least tell fact from fiction. Most of the time, anyway.
Twilight sighed. "I know, it's just…" she started as she set the book down on her dresser. "The rest of the book is so good. The characters are well-written, the setting is believable, but the magic is just… wrong."
Spike scratched his head with a claw. "Isn't that sort of the point? It is fantasy, after all," he noted. "The rules are supposed to be different." Suddenly, he remembered why he'd come upstairs in the first place. "Oh yeah!" he exclaimed. "It's almost dinnertime! We have to get going if we want to get there in time."
Of course, Twilight thought to herself. I promised I'd meet up with the others tonight. She could deal with the book later, she decided, before following Spike down the stairs and into the cool evening.
Sleep refused to visit Twilight that night, despite all her efforts to welcome it. She tossed and turned beneath her covers, unable to get comfortable. The real problem, of course, was her mind: no matter what she tried, Twilight couldn't get her thoughts to stop racing. A certain something in that book had her brain tied up and wouldn't let go. She hadn’t even been able to focus on dinner.
Groaning in frustration, Twilight flipped over onto her other side, glaring at the thin volume on her dresser. Luna's moon was a waxing gibbous, not quite full, but getting close. Its light fell through the window of the bedroom, illuminating the aggravating text in a silver pool. It's not going to let me sleep, Twilight realized. Darn you, book. This is your fault.
The book remained silent, unfazed by the angry mare. It was the first in a long series, centering on the life of Blackstone, a unicorn detective. Shining Armor, her older brother, had recommended it to her. Apparently, the snarky protagonist had reminded him of her.
Ridiculous, she thought. Blackstone is nothing like me. And his magic shouldn’t work.
After a few more seconds of internal debate, she lit the lamp on her bedside table with her own, much more sensible magic. Then, throwing off the covers with an exasperated sigh, she retrieved the book and sat down to finally put her thoughts to rest.
Now, where was that infernal passage? Her horn aglow, she flipped through the pages at a dizzying speed, barely glancing at the words flashing by.
Aha! This looks familiar!
Twilight's frantic search had stopped for the moment, the book now open to a description of the main character fighting off a vampire. Evidently, this was not the part she was looking for, as she quickly resumed turning the pages, albeit much more slowly and carefully than before.
It wasn't that much after the vampire… There!
She'd finally found it, the passage that had captured her imagination. Twilight studied it intensely, all hope of a good night's sleep now gone.
“A mountain of gems? For me?” Spike asked, awestruck.
“But of course! Nothing less would suit such a brave and handsome dragon as yourself.”
Spike nodded, before making a sweeping, graceful bow. He made for quite an impressive sight: a full five-and-a-half feet tall, with rock-hard scales and powerful muscles. It was only natural that Lady Rarity should be madly in love with him, especially given how he’d saved her from imprisonment at the hands of the tyrannical Dark Lord Blueblood.
“I am honored, milady,” he said. “It is a beautiful gift. Though not, I fear, as beautiful as the giver.” Oh yeah. I'm smooth.
Lady Rarity blushed, giggling. “Oh Sir Spike, you flatterer! But this simply will not do,” she declared, the laughter fading from her voice.
“Whatever do you mean, milady?”
“I simply cannot abide the thought of your bravery going without proper reward. Second-best is not good enough!” She shook her head, her perfect lavender curls bouncing at the motion. “No, you must have the most beautiful prize of all.”
“Oh?” Here it comes, he thought.
“Sir Spike,” she whispered, leaning in close. Her eyes shimmered, sparkling brighter than all the gems in the world.
“Yes?” Spike replied, breathless. Say it, he silently urged. Tell me to kiss you!
“Wake up!”
“Spike! Wake up! We’ve got work to do!” Twilight shook him again. “Spike!”
“Wha-?” he answered, groggily. “Rarity?”
“Research!” Twilight corrected. “Come on, there’s no time to lose!” Without waiting for a response, she levitated Spike out of the basket he called a bed and carried him down the stairs.
Spike grumbled and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, too tired to care that he was floating several feet above the ground. “Research? On what? Can’t you get Owloysius to help you instead?” He was still miffed at being woken up. That dream had been one of the best yet.
“He’s asleep. I had him helping all night,” Twilight explained, as she reached the main floor of the library with her floating assistant.
“All night?” Spike asked, concern showing in his voice, replacing the annoyance. “What about sleep?” Then he noticed something rather worrying about the library around him. “Why is everything upside down?”
“Oh, sorry.” She flipped him right-side up and set him down on the floor. “Anyway,” she said, “I need you to find me that reference on mind-magic. The big one.”
“The Mind’s Eye? Or did you mean Hidden Thoughts?”
“Hidden Thoughts,” she replied immediately. “No, wait, bring both.”
Spike found the texts easily and brought them to the desk where Twilight sat. Several books were piled up on top of it, with still more scattered on the surrounding floor. She obviously hadn’t been kidding about working all night.
“What do you need these for?” Spike asked. He was used to Twilight's unhealthy study habits by now, but that didn’t mean he was any less concerned about her. When she really got into something, she’d often forget little details, like eating or sleeping. He could only hope this would be over with before she made herself sick.
“Hm?” came the distracted response. “Oh, good, you brought them. I couldn’t sleep last night because I kept thinking about that Blackstone book, and this piece of magic I read about in it, and I had to know if it was real.” She had a large notebook open in front of her, and she would occasionally look up from one of the books on her desk to scribble something in it. All Spike could make out were a bunch of confusing magical symbols and, at the top of the page, underlined several times, the word “soulgaze”.
Author's Note: Well, here it is. My first ever attempt at fanfiction of any kind. Obviously, the soulgaze is from The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher. I wanted to see what would happen if you soulgazed a pony, but I didn't want to try writing a crossover as my first work. So, I just borrowed the idea, threw together a semi-plausible way that it could exist in Equestria, and here we are. Please, don't hold back with your criticisms. I won't get better unless I know what I'm doing wrong.
Pinkie Pie hummed happily to herself as she bounced down the street. It was a lively tune, one she'd come up with on the spot. The pink party pony loved music; few things could so quickly change a pony's mood for the better. Well, except for cake. Or ice cream. Or—she gasped—a party!
Improving a pony's mood was, by no coincidence, exactly the purpose of her little afternoon jaunt through the streets. Last night, while enjoying a nice dinner with all her closest friends—not that any of her friends weren't close—she'd noticed something completely inexcusable. Twilight wasn't having fun! She'd been quiet and distracted all night, even though she'd tried to hide it. Obviously, something was up, and it was up to Pinkie to figure out what it was and, if necessary, how to fix it.
That was why, as soon as she'd finished with her responsibilities for the day at Sugarcube Corner, she'd set out for the library. She was almost there now, the enormous canopy of the tree coming into view over the houses ahead. Now, what would be the best way to cheer up a sad librarian?
"Hm?"
"I said, you need to get something to eat!"
Twilight looked up from her books for the first time in more than an hour. "I'm not hungry, Spike," she protested. It was true, too; when she really got into her studies, she found the needs of her body to be little more than distractions. She had become quite good at blocking them out.
"You still need to eat," Spike pointed out. "It's afternoon already, and you barely had any breakfast." Plus, he thought to himself, I'm hungry too.
"Look," she began, "I'm almost done. I just need to calculate the thaumic energy conversions, and then we'll find some lunch, okay?"
"Hellooo, Twilight!" came a cheery voice from the main room of the library. "Anypony home?"
Spike gave her a pointed look. Twilight sighed, then called out, "Be right with you!" As much as she hated stopping in the middle of a project, she had to admit that her job as librarian came first. She put down her notebook and trotted into the main room, to find a familiar pink pony sitting there. "Oh, hi, Pinkie," she greeted in what she hoped was a friendly and not-at-all-tired tone.
Pinkie gasped. "Oh no, it's worse than I thought! Here, eat this!" At this, she produced from somewhere a cupcake covered in bright pink frosting and thrust it at the confused unicorn.
It took Twilight a couple seconds to mentally process Pinkie's lightning-fast non-sequiter, but unfortunately her mouth went ahead without waiting for her brain to catch up. "What?"
"Eat the cupcake," Pinkie repeated patiently. "Trust me, it'll make you feel better."
Twilight, about to protest that she felt perfectly fine, was interrupted by a loud growl from her midsection. Maybe she really was hungry after all. Besides, she had to admit, that cupcake was very tempting. "Um, thanks," she said, before taking the proffered treat and biting into it. It was pleasantly light, vanilla sponge with strawberry frosting. There was another flavor there too, just barely enough to be noticeable without bringing attention to itself. Almonds? she wondered. "Mmm, that's pretty good. What's in it?" she asked, taking another bite.
"Cyanide!"
"WHAT!?" Twilight cried, spitting out the mouthful of cake. "Are you crazy? Don't you know what—" she paused. Pinkie Pie was desperately trying to keep a straight face, but failing miserably. Realization dawned on her then. "Very funny," she deadpanned, magically hurling the half-eaten cupcake at Pinkie. It hit her frosting-first, leaving a pink smear on her face before bouncing to the floor.
That proved too much for Pinkie, who burst out laughing. "You should have seen the look on your face! You were all like 'Oh no, Pinkie poisoned me! That delicious cupcake was a lie!'" As she kept laughing, Twilight couldn't keep a grin from her own face.
"All right, you got me."
"See? I told you it'd make you feel better!" Pinkie exclaimed. "I saw how distracted you were at dinner last night, and I knew you must have been working on something, but whenever you get really into your work you forget to have fun, so I brought you a fake-poison cupcake to make you smile! What're you working on, anyway?"
Twilight had only heard about half of Pinkie's whirlwind explanation, more preoccupied with how the pink pony could go so long without taking a breath. The question, however, she had heard, and she leapt at the opportunity to give a lecture. "Well, I was reading this book last night..."
"...and now I just have to finish up the calculations and I'll be done!" Twilight finished excitedly. A thought occurred to her then, looking at the bright pink pony in front of her. "Actually, I could use your help testing the procedure. Are you busy right now?"
Pinkie, who had lost track of what Twilight was saying several minutes ago, realized she was being addressed. She mentally replayed the last few seconds of conversation, before answering, "Nopey-dopey! I have the rest of the afternoon off."
"Great! Just wait here for a minute while I grab my notes, and then we'll get started." Twilight trotted back into her study, a small room just off the library's lobby. Next to her bedroom, it was Twilight's favorite room in the building. Big enough to hold a writing desk and several bookshelves, yet small enough that it wasn't overwhelming, Twilight always felt completely at ease there. As an added bonus, the round window in the outside wall was situated to perfectly catch the sun's illumination all day, without ever suffering from the harsh glares that so often plagued reading rooms. In short, it was the ideal location for a day (or three) spent studying obscure applications of magic.
Spike was still there, trying to instill some sense of order to the hectic mess of books and parchment scattered throughout the room. He glanced up at Twilight's arrival. "Who was it?" he asked.
"Pinkie," she answered, telekinetically grabbing the notebook containing her research. "I asked her to be my test subject."
"What about lunch?" he protested.
"This isn't going to take long," Twilight reassured him. "Why don't you get something started? We'll eat as soon as I'm done."
Spike's mood brightened considerably at that. Though he didn't often admit it, especially after the teasing his other hobbies had earned him during the dragon migration, Spike loved cooking. At first, he'd learned out of necessity, given his caretaker's complete culinary ineptitude. After a while, though, he'd embraced the art, and though his skills were nowhere near those of Pinkie or Applejack, nor were they anything to be laughed at.
Plus, he reflected, I get to eat whatever I want.
Twilight returned to the library's lobby, notes in tow, to find Pinkie conspicuously absent. "Pinkie?" she called out. "Where'd you go?"
The pony in question answered by leaping out from behind the large wooden bust in the center of room, shouting, "Surprise!" and startling Twilight into dropping her notebook.
Rolling her eyes at another example of Pinkie's randomness, Twilight retrieved her notes and said, "Okay, I have everything I need. Are you ready to start?"
"Start what?" Pinkie asked, her head tilted to the side in apparent confusion.
Twilight nearly facehoofed at that, but managed to restrain herself. "Never mind," she said resignedly, "just hold still for a moment."
"Okey-dokey-lokey!"
Flipping through pages of notes, Twilight quickly found the information she needed. The spell itself was deceptively simple, given all the calculations it had taken to put it together. She concentrated on her magic, sending streams of power through her horn and weaving them into a cohesive whole. Her horn began to glow, the ever-present signal of magic at work. Finally, when she was satisfied that everything was working, Twilight looked Pinkie in the eyes and released the spell.
Immediately, she felt as though she were falling forwards. Pinkie's bright blue eyes seemed to be pulling her in, expanding until she could see nothing else. Suddenly, everything went black.
Twilight found herself in a party. Though perhaps "party" didn't do it justice; the word didn't seem nearly exciting enough to describe the event taking place around her. Tables lined the walls of the room, surrounding an area the size of the Canterlot Castle Ballroom, if not bigger. Each one was covered in confections, from pies and pastries to candies and cakes. Bowls of punch sat on a few of the tables, next to stacks of glasses. The walls were hung with streamers of every color, and blue and yellow balloons strained to break free of the knots holding them to the tables. A few had evidently succeeded, their strings dangling from where they rested on the ceiling. Huge, high windows in the walls let in bright beams of sunlight. Through them, Twilight could see fields of grass and clear, blue skies.
Music was playing somewhere, though it was music unlike any Twilight was familiar with. It was completely erratic; the instruments just seemed to do whatever they wanted, without regard for the rest of the band. The drum couldn't keep time, and would randomly speed up and slow down. By all rights, it should have been appalling, yet somehow all of the conflicting elements came together to form a single piece that was as cheerful as it was completely unpredictable.
As interesting as the music was, however, it couldn't come close to matching the strangeness of the guests. Twilight's jaw dropped as she saw them. There had to be more than a hundred ponies there, dancing to the strange beat. No, not a hundred ponies, Twilight corrected herself, a hundred Pinkies. Each of the guests in attendance was the spitting image of the pink party pony. The closer she looked, however, the more differences began to appear. Many of the Pinkies had different hairstyles, unlike the impossibly curly mess that was her default look. One or two were slightly different sizes, and one even had the squared-off muzzle of a colt.
In all the chaos, Twilight managed to notice two of Pinkie's doppelgangers standing off to the side, apart from the furiously dancing crowd. That struck her as odd; what kind of Pinkie Pie would pass up a party? Making her way around the thrashing mob, she quickly got close enough to get a better look at the pair of Pinkies. One looked very young, barely more than a filly, and a blank-flank to boot. Her mane and tail fell straight and lifeless, and her expression was one of mixed boredom and sadness. The other looked much closer to Pinkie's normal age and appearance. In fact, the only features that distinguished her from the multitudes of similar Pinkie clones were the pair of horn-rimmed glasses balanced carefully on her snout and the stern expression on her face.
"Um, hello," Twilight said once she reached them. She had to strain to make her voice heard over the roar of the music and the dancers.
"Greetings, Twilight Sparkle," the older Pinkie intoned, turning to face this new sight. Unlike Twilight, she didn't raise her voice, which made it difficult for the unicorn to hear her. The filly seemed to take no notice of Twilight's presence, instead gazing sullenly at the floor.
"What is this place?" Twilight asked.
"What you see here is a representation of Pinkie Pie's consciousness. It is a construct, created by your spell, to allow you to experience in an abstract form what your own mind and senses could not possibly comprehend." Not once during the stern mare's explanation did her tone or expression change. There was no sense of interest in her voice; she was merely relaying information.
"What?" Twilight managed, shocked at such calm intelligence from the mouth of the ordinarily ditzy and hyperactive pony. "How do you know that?"
"You said as much when you were explaining the spell earlier," she answered.
"Well, yeah, but..." she trailed off. It was true, she had gone over the mechanics of the spell with Pinkie, including the details of the mental construct it utilized. The problem was, when she'd explained it, it had taken her ten minutes of detailed thaumaturgic terminology. This Pinkie had condensed it down to just two, easily understandable sentences. Plus, she could have sworn Pinkie hadn't been paying attention to her lecture. "Who are you?" she asked, awe creeping into her voice.
"I am Pinkie Pie," replied the bespectacled baker. "Though it might be more accurate to call me Pinkie Pie's Knowledge."
"So, all of these Pinkie Pies," Twilight asked, gesturing to the still-dancing mob, "are just representations of Pinkie's different traits?"
"Not exactly," answered Knowledge. "They are Pinkie Pie, just as I am. Everything here, from the decorations to the guests to the room itself, is both a part and the whole of who Pinkie Pie is. It is a difficult concept, one she does not fully understand, and it does not lend itself easily to equine language."
"I think I get it," Twilight said. She looked around the room again, trying to take everything in. Pinkie's mind was a fascinating place, and she would have loved to have been able to spend more time there, but she wouldn't be able to hold the spell forever. Finally, her gaze landed on the sad filly beside her. "Who is she?" she asked without thinking, before hastily adding, "I mean, if you don't mind me asking."
Knowledge looked down at the filly as if only noticing her for the first time. She was a long time in responding, and when she finally spoke, it was with the faintest trace of what could have been sadness. "She is what should not be remembered, yet cannot be forgotten." Her answer given, Knowledge looked away from both Twilight and the filly, then became silent and still once more.
The unicorn in question found herself back in the Ponyville library, a concerned Pinkie Pie standing over her. It took Twilight several moments to pull her thoughts back together, muddled as they'd been from the journey into Pinkie's mind. She was still reeling from the experience. It wasn't often that one had a chance to walk around in another pony's mind, after all.
Twilight got to her feet, noting idly that she must have collapsed at some point, before answering, "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Oh, good!" Pinkie exclaimed. "You were just standing there looking into space for, like, a whole minute! Then you fell over! Did you mess up your spell?"
"No, no, the spell worked," she replied. "At least, I think it did. It was... really strange."
Looking at Pinkie then, Twilight was suddenly hit with a new understanding of the pink pony. Standing before her was a pony who took pleasure in simply being alive. To her, every day was a celebration, every moment a gift. What point was there in being sad, when she could be happy instead? All of the silliness, all the little quirks and foibles, were just her ways of expressing the boundless joy she felt.
More than that, though, Pinkie wanted others to be happy as well. After all, she knew how good it felt to smile, and it just wouldn't be fair if she didn't show everypony else. Pinkie did the things she did not out of hope for a reward, but for the satisfaction of knowing that she'd made a positive impact in somepony's life.
Then there were the less obvious sides to Pinkie's personality. She didn't take rejection well; Twilight had seen firsthoof what had happened when she'd become convinced that all her friends were sick of her. There was quite a lot of intelligence hidden underneath the bubbly exterior, as well.
All this knowledge came to Twilight in a rush, unbidden. The experience was rather disconcerting, somewhat akin to looking at a candle flame after sitting in the dark for several minutes. How did I know all that? she wondered. Was that all from the soulgaze?
"Uhh, Twilight? You're doing the staring thing again."
Pinkie's voice snapped Twilight out of her reverie, and she pushed aside the bizarre sensation, resolving to deal with it in full later. "Sorry," she apologized, "I guess I'm a little distracted."
Pinkie giggled, saying, "Wow, did my brain freak you out that much?"
"Actually, it was more of a representation of your consciousness than your brain," Twilight corrected automatically, before the implications of that question could sink in. "Hang on," she began, a grin forming on her face. "You were paying attention!" Of course, her discussion with Pinkie's Knowledge should have confirmed as much, but Twilight still took satisfaction in knowing that her lecture hadn't gone to waste.
"Duh," Pinkie said, as though it should have been obvious. "So, what was my brain like? Was it full of dream-zombies?" As she said this, she reared up on her hind legs and rolled her eyes up into her head. "Braaaaaaains," she moaned, "We live in braaaaaaaains."
"No, there were no dream-zombies," Twilight said, rolling her eyes at the performance. "It was a party. A party with more than a hundred Pinkie Pies in it." Somehow, she felt very awkward explaining what she'd seen. Why? she thought. It's her own mind. She has a right to know.
Pinkie fell over backwards out of excitement. "Ohmygosh! A hundred of me? In a party? That would be the most funnest party ever!" she declared, before shooting off a rapid-fire list of all the fun party games she could play with all those Pinkies.
Fortunately for both Twilight and the world of grammar, she was spared from having to hear an explanation of how one could create an ideal rotation system for a hundred-pony game of pin-the-tail-on-the-pony (apparently, rubber snakes were involved) by a timely announcement from Spike.
"Hey, Twilight, Pinkie, lunch is ready!" he called from the kitchen.
It was as though somepony had run a current through Pinkie. She leapt into the air, all four legs perfectly straight, and let out a gasp. "Oh no, how long have I been here?"
"About half an hour," came Twilight's confused reply. "Why?"
"I'm running late!" Pinkie cried, as she began to trot agitatedly in place. "I have work to do!"
That just increased Twilight's confusion. "I thought you said you were done with work for today?"
"Not work work!" she said, exasperated. Without elaborating any further, she ran for the door. "I'll see you later, Twilight!" she called.
"Um, bye?" This turn of events had thrown Twilight slightly, and she wasn't entirely sure what had just happened.
Then, not a minute after she'd left, Pinkie stuck her head back in through the door and said, "Hey, you should try that brain-looking spell on Rainbow Dash! I bet it'd be totally cool! Bye again!" Then she was gone.
"C'mon, Twilight!" Spike yelled again. "Lunch is getting cold!"
Where are you hiding, Rainbow?
Twilight walked around the market, her eyes scanning the skies for any trace of Rainbow Dash. After lunch, which had consisted of a toasted dandelion-and-cheese sandwich and a salad, she'd decided to act on Pinkie's suggestion. She hadn't been planning on using the soulgaze more than once. In fact, she hadn't really planned to use it at all; the only reason she'd developed the spell was to see if it were possible. Pinkie's arrival had just come at a convenient time, and Twilight had acted on the spur of the moment.
After seeing Pinkie's mind (despite the name, Twilight didn't put much stock in the spell's ability to see a pony's "soul"; that idea struck her as characteristic of pseudomagic), however, Twilight had been overcome by curiosity. What would the spell show of her other friends? There was so much she could learn about them, and likely about friendship as well. There's probably a friendship report in here somewhere, Twilight mused. Let's see... "Dear Princess Celestia, Today I learned that there is so much more to a pony than what you see." Nah, it sounds too much like the one about Zecora...
As she worked on composing the letter, Twilight continued her search for Rainbow Dash. On summer afternoons like this, when there often wasn't a great deal of weather work to be done, the brash pegasus could often be found napping on a cloud or in a tree. Unless, of course, she was practicing her trick flying. Not likely, Twilight thought to herself. Had she said those words aloud, they would have been dripping with sarcasm. She would have crashed into my window by now.
Twilight's search eventually brought her to the outskirts of Ponyville. Though she'd seen a few promising patches of cloud along the way, none of them had been concealing the daredevil flyer. She wouldn't have taken her nap so close to the town center anyway, the librarian conceded. Out here, it was much quieter. She looked up once more, and spotted a single, tiny cloud in the distance. There you are, she thought, angling straight for it.
"Rainbow! Rainbow! Are you up there?"
Rainbow Dash was indeed "up there". Until about two seconds ago, she had also been asleep. Napping was, behind flying, her favorite activity. She'd find a nice, puffy cloud and just curl up on it. The one she'd chosen for this particular afternoon had been a real treat: a fresh cumulus, with just the right amount of give. Rainbow had positioned it outside Ponyville, in one of her favorite spots.
Up until the rude interruption, it had been absolutely perfect. She groaned, loudly. Maybe the intruder would take the hint, and leave her to her nap.
"Oh, good, I finally found you. I need your help with something."
Rainbow let out another groan. Not only would she not be able to finish her nap, she'd have to actually do something too. She toyed with the idea of simply ignoring the trespasser, or else just flying away and finding another place to finish sleeping. The idea was rejected almost immediately; whoever this pony was, it wasn't likely that he or she would give up so easily. Finally, with monumental effort, she opened her eyes and looked down at the pony who'd ruined her perfect moment.
"Twilight?" she asked, her voice sounding more annoyed than she really meant it to. "What do you want?"
"I have this new spell I've been working on, to let me-" Twilight began, but Rainbow cut her off.
"How long's it gonna take?" She definitely didn't need to hear another of the egghead's boring explanations. To her mind, the sooner this was done, the sooner she could get back to sleep.
Twilight, slightly put out at having her lecture interrupted, nonetheless gave her answer: "It should only be a couple minutes. I'd hate to keep you from something as important as your nap."
If there was sarcasm in her words, it failed to impact Rainbow. "Great," she replied. "Let's get this over with."
As Rainbow Dash stretched her wings for the short flight to the ground below, Twilight began to prepare the spell that would let her see into the pegasus's consciousness. It was easier the second time; after using it on Pinkie, Twilight already knew exactly what to do.
Rainbow alighted on the ground in front of Twilight just as she was ready to cast the spell. "Are you ready?" she asked, her voice slightly strained by the concentration the magic required. Her horn was awash with a bright magenta light.
"Yeah, yeah," came the bored reply. "What do I need to do?"
"Nothing, just stand there. Here goes!"
This time, Twilight knew what to expect as she released the magic. It started exactly as before: the feeling of falling forwards, Rainbow's eyes expanding to swallow her. Then, blackness.
When Twilight could see again, she couldn't believe her eyes. Her first thought was that she was back in Cloudsdale, in the Cloudiseum. Certainly, with its cloud-stands and stark white pillars, the stadium of Rainbow's mind bore more than a passing resemblance to that venue of flying sports. Twilight quickly spotted a number of differences, however.
The most obvious difference was the lack of a royal box. The Cloudsdale arena had had a special section set aside for the rare visit from the Princess. Rainbow's stadium, however, did not. In fact, there did not seem to be any differentiation whatsoever in the seating. There weren't even separate spectator stands for supporters and opponents, usually a staple in any sports venue. Every seat was exactly the same, evenly spaced around the circular arena.
Another difference was the lack of embellishment or decoration. Gone were the engravings on the walls and pillars; every surface in the stadium was plain and unmarked. Flags and banners of every color had flown in the Cloudiseum during the Best Young Flyers Competition, but the only such consideration here were a few small pennants of red, blue, and yellow. Overall, the effect was completely boring. It seemed to Twilight that the stadium was merely an afterthought; the show was the important part, and any detail in the surroundings would have been an unnecessary distraction.
Twilight, her examination of the stands complete, turned to the center of the stadium to see what sort of event was taking place. When she spotted it, it took her breath away.
Rainbow Dash was the only thing in the stadium. By all rights, the sheer size of it should have swallowed her up, making her seem no more than an insignificant dot. She obviously disagreed. She was flying around the arena at top speed, a rainbow blur against the white backdrop. She performed stunt after stunt, acrobatic flips and spins interspersed with swooping dives and hairpin turns. It was a love letter to speed and adrenaline, written in the sweat soaking her coat and the strain in her muscles. Twilight was in awe.
Somehow, the rest of the audience weren't moved. They watched the show with complete apathy, no expression whatsoever on their faces. Twilight managed to break away from the enthralling spectacle before her, and turned around to get a better look at her fellow spectators. She wanted to yell at them, to demand that they applaud the amazing stunts being performed just for them. Upon seeing their faces in detail, however, the words died in her throat.
The ponies in the audience looked... wrong. There was something fundamentally off about them, and it set Twilight's teeth on edge. Maybe it was the way their bodies never moved, except to keep their stares on the cyan pegasus. Perhaps it was the crowd-wide lack of a single cutie mark, or any distinguishing feature for that matter. More than that, though, they seemed unfinished. There wasn't nearly enough detail in those ponies; they were just rough images. But their eyes, those were the worst. They never blinked, ever. They just watched, and it seemed to Twilight that they were silently judging. It was horrible.
The unicorn decided she'd had enough. With a final glance at the speeding form of Rainbow Dash, she ended the spell, and the stadium faded into blackness.
Twilight responded with a groan. Her head was pounding, and Rainbow's words hit her ears like a sledgehammer. On top of that, she'd collapsed again. This is getting old, she thought to herself. Fighting through the pain in her mind, she forced her eyes open and tried to get to her feet. This was made more difficult by the fact that somepony had turned her legs into jelly.
"Twilight?" Rainbow asked again. The pegasus was standing over the prone Twilight, her whole body tensed. Her wings were flared, and it looked like she was ready to take off at a moment's notice.
Twilight shook her head, trying to clear it, but only bringing forth a fresh wave of pain. She winced, before saying, "I'm fine. It's just a headache." She focused on her unruly limbs, trying to bring them back under control. They resisted her efforts, but eventually she managed to gather all four legs under her body. That was enough for now, she decided; the ground was spinning too much to risk standing.
"Are you sure?" Rainbow asked, incredulous. "You just sorta collapsed. I was about to fly and get help." Her tone made it clear that she wouldn't hesitate to do so anyway, if it looked like she had to.
"I'm sure. Mental spells always have some psychic backlash. It'll wear off in a minute," Twilight said dismissively. As she finally built up enough concentration to get back to her feet, she looked again at the cyan pegasus, and felt the beginnings of a familiar sensation. Twilight barely had time to brace herself before she was hit with another sudden rush of insight.
In the mare before her, Twilight saw a pony who lived for excitement. Rainbow Dash was a daredevil, and could never be happy without the roar of wind in her ears and the rush of adrenaline in her veins. Death-defying stunts, breakneck speeds, and split-second maneuvers were her life, and nothing would change that.
Second only to her love of flying was her need for attention. Rainbow craved the spotlight, the cheering fans, and the fame. That she was an amazing flyer was no secret to her. Just knowing wasn't enough, though; she needed to be recognized. Her self-worth hinged on how other ponies saw her. The constant need to prove herself made her show-offish and competitive. She would never back down from a challenge, as doing so would be a sign of weakness, and Rainbow couldn't stand to be thought of as weak.
It was an impossible situation. While Rainbow couldn't live without recognition from the ponies around her, nor could she survive their judgement. So she pushed herself constantly, striving to iron out any imperfection she found so that nopony else could hate her for it. It was her greatest strength, but also her most terrible weakness.
Finally, Twilight saw a pony who could not abandon those she cared about. No matter what the circumstances, Rainbow would never hesitate to sacrifice her own ambitions in favor of keeping her friendships strong. She'd been hurt in the past, bullied and betrayed, and she'd vowed never to let that happen to anypony else.
The flash of knowledge passed, and Twilight realized she'd been staring. At least she hadn't fallen over again. She blinked, and said, "Sorry, I guess it's been a long day. I should probably be heading home."
Rainbow Dash, still not entirely convinced that Twilight was okay, nonetheless allowed herself to relax slightly. She eased herself down from the elevated state of tension she'd been in, her wings folding themselves away at her sides. "Okay, if you're sure you're alright."
"I'm fine," she insisted, sure of it this time. How could she not be? She'd seen Rainbow's mind, with all the goodness and strength that the pegasus had inside. "I'll see you later, Rainbow."
"See ya," the weather pony replied. As she watched her egghead friend trot away down the path to Ponyville, Rainbow finally managed to stop worrying. She's Twilight Sparkle, she reminded herself, the nerdiest pony in all of Equestria. She knows what she's doing.
Rainbow flapped her powerful wings, bringing herself back up to where her cloud waited. She could hear it calling her, beckoning the pegasus with its pillowy softness. It took Rainbow Dash all of ten seconds to fall back into her nap.
By the time Twilight returned to the enormous tree that was her home, it was almost evening. The market was beginning to clear out, the salesponies having packed up their wares for the day. A few ponies were still out and about, hoping to make the best of the warm weather.
"Spike! I'm back!" Twilight called as she walked through the library's door. When no reply came, she tried again. "Spike?"
Her assistant was nowhere to be seen. Is he asleep? she wondered. I did wake him up pretty early this morning. Looking around the front room, Twilight saw the disorganized piles of reference books her night of research had left. Spike had put a sizable dent in the clutter, but, as was so often the case, the librarian's studies had turned the floor and desks into a veritable minefield of texts. It had evidently been too much for the baby dragon to take care of in one go. Twilight sighed, resigning herself to the task of bringing order back to the library.
An hour later, Twilight had finished putting away the books in the lobby, and was just getting started on her study. Fortunately, as it was considerably smaller than the front room, there were far fewer bookshelves to reorganize. Unfortunately, that meant that a lot of the books in the study had come from elsewhere in the library, and Twilight had to figure out which ones went where. As she levitated her copy of Psychic Spells: A Comprehensive Guide: 6th ed. onto the stack of books to go into one of the library's other rooms, the sound of the front door closing caught her attention.
As Spike entered the library, a large shopping bag under one arm, he was immediately aware that something was off. When he'd left, there had been a huge mess to clean up. Now, though, somepony had cleaned it. Somepony other than him, even. The sheer novelty of that fact made him pause for a moment, and it was in this state that Twilight found him when she emerged from her study.
"Oh, hi Spike," she said. "I thought you were asleep."
"Asleep? Nah, I just stepped out to get some groceries," he explained, gesturing to the bag. "We were completely out of milk." Changing the subject, he noted, "You cleaned up the library?"
"Well, I started to," Twilight answered. "I'm just doing the study now." With her telekinesis, she lifted the shopping bag out of her assistant's grip and carried it into the kitchen.
"Thanks," Spike said, before taking out his purchases and putting them away in the kitchen's assorted cupboards. The fresh goods, including the milk, he put in the enchanted icebox to keep cool. Twilight offered some assistance, but the kitchen was Spike's domain, and he knew where everything went. Once the food was away, Spike and Twilight set about cleaning the remainder of the mess in the library. As they worked, they made small talk, discussing things like the upcoming weather schedule and the news of a feather flu outbreak in Fillydelphia. Eventually, the conversation turned to Twilight's encounter with Rainbow Dash.
"It was like a stadium in the sky," Twilight said, trying to explain what she'd seen. Spike hadn't gone to the Best Young Flyers' Competition with them, so he hadn't seen the Cloudiseum. Without that convenient reference, Twilight found it slightly more difficult to describe the scenery in Dash's mind. Fortunately, Spike got the idea.
"Were there a hundred Rainbow Dashes?" he asked. As he'd helped her put the spell together in the first place, Twilight had thought it only fair to tell him what had been in Pinkie's soulgaze. The idea of a party with a horde of the pink pony's lookalikes had struck him as particularly hilarious. A hundred Rainbows putting on an airshow would be even more ridiculous.
"No, it was just the one. She was doing some pretty amazing tricks, though." She decided to leave out the part about the other spectators; the memory of their blank stares made her shudder.
"Sounds cool," Spike commented. "Hey," he said, an idea coming to him. "Would it work on Rarity?"
"Well, yeah, I don't see why not. Why?"
"Just curious." A faraway look came over him, the one he always had when thinking about the object of his adoration. "I wonder if her soul is as beautiful as the rest of her..."
Twilight rolled her eyes. "Come on," she said, snapping the dragon out of his reverie. "We've still got work to do."
That night, Twilight found that, once again, her thoughts wouldn't let her sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about what the soulgazes had shown her. Pinkie's and Rainbow's minds were just as different as the ponies they belonged to. Pinkie Pie's mind had been a party of a hundred doppelgangers, everything loud and colorful. By contrast, Rainbow Dash's cloud-stadium mindscape had been positively plain, with all the excitement centered on the mare herself. Twilight had seen her friends in unparalleled detail, but if anything, she had even more questions.
As she turned and twisted under her moon-and-star bedsheets, the unicorn thought back to her assistant's question about Rarity. I wonder if her soul is as beautiful as the rest of her. Painfully cliched though it was, it had provoked a lot of thought in Twilight. What would the soulgaze show of her other friends? Would Fluttershy's mind be ridiculously adorable? What about Rarity, or Applejack?
Twilight realized that she wasn't going to be able to let this go. Maybe she could ignore the curiosity for a while, but eventually it would consume her. She had to find out, or she'd never know peace again. In a way, this revelation comforted her; at least now she knew what she needed to do. Twilight resolved that, come the morning, she would stop at nothing to finish soulgazing her friends.
That matter settled, Twilight finally managed to relax, and settled into a heavy sleep.
Twilight awoke the next morning to the sun streaming through her bedroom window. That doesn't seem right, she thought, her mind still half-asleep. The sun's never this high this early in the morning. She bolted upright. The sun wasn't too high; she'd overslept! It was completely understandable; she hadn't slept at all the previous night, after all. Even so, it was inexcusable. She had so much to do this morning, and she'd gone and wasted half of it by not waking up on time.
A powerful kick sent the covers of her bed flying off, to land in a heap on the other side of her bedroom. Twilight leapt out of bed and ran for the stairs, forgoing her usual mane-brushing in the rush. She poured herself a quick bowl of cereal, thankful that Spike had brought in some more milk, then left the empty bowl in the sink for him to clean. Then, her hasty morning preparations complete, the unicorn set out for Carousel Boutique at a canter.
With the exception of a certain blue pegasus (and, this morning, a lavender unicorn), the citizens of Ponyville were generally early risers. Most days they'd be up not long after dawn, going about their business. Today was no different, and Twilight found the streets already beginning to fill up with ponies going about their business. She knew most of them by now, and she exchanged greetings with some in passing, but she was in a hurry and didn't want to be caught up in a lengthy conversation. Such was her haste, and her focus on reaching her destination, that she failed to notice the stifled giggling that followed in her wake.
Rarity was in a good mood. Today, Thursday, was her favorite day of the week. It was the day of her weekly spa session with Fluttershy. The fashionista loved the spa; they knew how to pamper a pony and make all her stresses and troubles simply disappear. Even more than that, though, she loved spending time with Fluttershy. In Rarity's opinion, she and Fluttershy didn't see each other nearly often enough. It certainly didn't help that Fluttershy's cottage was so far from the rest of Ponyville, and her duty to the animals kept her cooped up most of the time. On top of that, the pegasus' crippling shyness made her already infrequent visits all the more precious.
Their spa appointment wasn't until the afternoon, however. Before that, Rarity had work to do. Right now, she was finishing up a relatively minor order for one of her regular Ponyville customers. It was a much smaller project than most of the other recent work she'd had, just a simple sundress, and for once she was ahead of schedule. Even though the customer didn't need it done until Monday, Rarity hadn't really had any other work to do, and she was already nearly finished. Rarity knew that she had plenty of time, and could certainly afford to give herself the morning off, but she wanted to have the dress done before her spa session, so she would have even less to worry about while she was there.
So it was that Rarity had just rethreaded her sewing needle when she heard somepony burst through the front door, eliciting an unnecessary ring from the entrance bell. She turned her back on the unfinished work to greet her guest, and got as far as, "Welcome to Carousel..." before the full force of what she was seeing strangled the words in her throat. To an outside observer, one who was unfamiliar with the unicorn's particular quirks, the speed with with her expression changed from relaxed contentment to abject horror would have been rather impressive. Only slightly less so, in fact, than the ear-shattering scream that followed.
"What's wrong?" Twilight asked, panic momentarily filling her voice and replacing any other thought in her head, except perhaps for, Ow, my poor ears.
"What's wrong?!" Rarity repeated, incredulous. "Look at your mane! It's an absolute disaster! Oh, please tell me you did not walk all the way here looking like that!"
To emphasize her point, Rarity levitated a small hoof-mirror over to allow Twilight to see the full scope of the problem. She hadn't been exaggerating; Twilight's mane was a mess. One side of it was pressed flat to her head, while the other half was puffed out to such a degree that it seemed to double the size of her head. Hairs stuck out at odd angles, giving her the appearance of a woefully abused bush. On top of that, Twilight's violet and magenta highlights, one of the few aspects of her appearance that she particularly liked, were completely messed up, throwing their colors into the battle of knots and split ends that had taken over the librarian's head. It couldn't have looked any worse if she'd used pure, undiluted chaos in place of conditioner.
"I, uh, guess I should have brushed it," Twilight commented weakly.
"This will not do at all. I cannot allow such a terrible crime to go uncorrected!" Rarity declared. Before Twilight could react, she found herself being forcibly pushed into the boutique's master bathroom. It was a place dedicated to the art of personal care, a temple to the routines of grooming and hygiene that Rarity held so dear. Shelves stacked high with bottles lined the walls, shampoos and conditioners taking their place next to skin- and coat-cleaning products of every description. An enormous bathtub dominated the floorspace. Twilight felt somewhat out of place, like she was not refined or clean enough to be allowed in such a place. Rarity, on the other hoof, looked right at home as she began filling the tub with water.
"Can this wait?" Twilight protested, having remembered why she'd come to see Rarity in the first place. "I'm in a bit of a hurry."
Rarity turned to face Twilight, her expression plainly stating, You need to straighten out your priorities. "Is it an emergency?" she asked, as though she were dealing with a particularly impatient child. "Can it absolutely not wait?"
"Well," the scholar began, before Rarity's expression forced her to reconsider. "I suppose not."
After half an hour, and a great deal of complaining, Rarity was finally satisfied with the state of Twilight's mane. It had been washed, shampooed, conditioned, washed again, then meticulously styled and treated until it met the designer's impeccable standards. "There!" she announced, the pride clear in her voice. "You look absolutely marvelous!"
"Are you quite finished?" Twilight asked, having long since grown tired of her friend's ministrations.
"Why, yes, I am." She paused, thinking for a moment, before asking, "Now, what was it you wanted to see me about?"
"No time to explain," Twilight said, already gathering the magic for her spell. "I've wasted enough time here as it is. Just stand still."
"Wasted!?" Rarity cried, indignant. Then the rest of Twilight's words sank in, and she saw the steadily-growing glow surrounding her fellow unicorn's horn. "What are you doing? Twili—"
Whatever she'd been about to say was lost on Twilight, as she released the spell and felt the now-familiar sensation of the soulgaze beginning. As ever, it started with the feeling of falling, followed by Rarity's eyes expanding to swallow her up. Then, as before, came blackness.
When Twilight could see again, she was standing in a throne room. There was no other way to describe it; with its high, vaulted ceilings and elegant marble pillars, it put Twilight in mind of Celestia's and Luna's throne room in Canterlot Castle. This room, however, had much more white. It was almost painfully bright, the polished surfaces of the floors and walls reflecting every ray of sunlight that poured in through the tall windows. Unlike the ones in Canterlot, these windows were plain, forgoing stained-glass decoration in favor of being absolutely massive.
While the walls and pillars of the room were stark, bleached white, many of the room's furnishings were a deep, royal purple. In the center of the floor, running from the enormous double doors at one end of the room to the high-backed throne at the other, was a luxurious carpet of purple velvet. The throne itself, though primarily made of the same marble that comprised the scenery, was adorned with plush, purple cushions. Purple banners and flags hung from the ceiling and the walls, and even the candles in the brackets throughout the room burned with purple flames.
The only other color in the room came from the chandelier. Twilight's jaw dropped when she saw it, dangling from the ceiling in a flagrant show of grandeur and elegance. The entire structure was made of brilliant silver, expertly wrought and crafted into impossibly detailed curls and spirals. Hanging from it were more diamonds than she could count, brilliant blue gems ranging from pea-sized to bigger than the unicorn's eyes. It had to be worth a fortune.
Her examination of the scenery over for now, Twilight focused her attention on the ponies in the room with her. There were quite a few of them, standing in line on the purple carpet. They seemed to come from every walk of life; pegasi and earth ponies were scattered among unicorns, nobles in exquisite finery and peasants in rags or nothing at all mixed together without regard. As Twilight watched, a unicorn guard in white-and-purple armor called out a name from a scroll, and the pony in question—a green unicorn in a waistcoat—stepped forward to deliver her plea to the regent on the throne.
Upon seeing the pony on the throne, Twilight did a double-take. It was Rarity, there was no doubt about that, but she looked different. She had always looked beautiful, and she took great pains to maintain her appearance, but the Rarity sitting on the throne made her normal appearance seem positively plain. She simply radiated elegance and grace, and held herself with an air of refinement. It was strange, though; there was no single feature that Twilight could pinpoint that was different. In fact, whenever she tried to remember back to this experience, she found it hard to remember any details about the pony on the throne at all. Twilight supposed she was wearing a crown, though it might have been a tiara or diadem, or perhaps nothing at all; the specifics seemed just out of her reach.
It was the same story for the pony behind Queen Rarity, but for completely different reasons. This pony was also Rarity, but twisted and sinister. She stood just behind the throne, in the one spot that did not catch any sunlight. This made it very hard for Twilight to make her out; at first, she was convinced she'd been seeing things. She appeared to be whispering into the queen's ear, trying to get her attention. The queen appeared to pay her no mind, however, focusing instead on the ponies before her.
Twilight watched the proceedings for a time, seeing Queen Rarity deal with her subjects, until a small door caught her attention. Unlike the front doors, which were elaborately carved and decorated, this door was completely plain. Intrigued, Twilight walked over to it and pushed through into the courtyard beyond. Whatever she'd been expecting to find, it was completely different than the reality.
In the courtyard, surrounded by the high, marble walls, was a cottage. It was a simple thing, wood and thatch, with a chimney and a garden. It seemed so out of place, but Twilight couldn't help but think that it was necessary. The castle was a front; it was where visitors were greeted and business was done. At the end of the day, though, it wasn't a home. This cottage was where Rarity lived, and where she could go when the pressures of society became too much. Seeing it made Twilight smile, and it was the last thing she saw before the soulgaze ended.
Rarity watched Twilight with growing concern. She didn't know especially much about the finer points of magic, and she'd never seen the need to study the technical aspects of what few spells she did know. Even so, she could tell that whatever Twilight was doing, it was very complicated. The threads of magic flowing from the scholar's horn practically hummed with power, and Rarity could feel them flowing into her, forming a connection between the minds of the two unicorns. She didn't like it; it felt like she was being stripped down and examined, her mind opened up for scrutiny.
She didn't like Twilight's expression, either. Those amethyst eyes were just staring at her, looking deep into Rarity's own. Occasionally, a small twinge of some emotion like confusion or amazement would cross Twilight's face, but then it would vanish, and she would continue to stare. Rarity felt herself transfixed by Twilight's gaze, her own eyes keeping themselves locked in place even as the rational part of her mind willed her to look away.
They remained like that for what felt like hours, though Rarity knew it could only have been a few minutes. Suddenly, without the slightest warning, the invasive tendrils retracted, pulling themselves away from Rarity's mind. Twilight's horn stopped glowing, and she snapped out of whatever trance she'd seemed to be in. Her balance seemed to be a little bit off, and she staggered to one side, but she caught herself before she fell.
"Twilight?" Rarity asked. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Twilight answered, her voice slightly strained. She closed her eyes, wincing slightly, before saying, "It's just a headache. Psychic backlash, you know?"
"Not really." Rarity kept her voice level, concealing the roiling mess of emotions under the surface. "Would you like some water?"
"Oh, yes please."
"Right. Just wait there." When Rarity returned from the kitchen with a glass of water, she found Twilight sitting on one of the boutique's artful sofas. She offered the glass to Twilight, who graciously accepted it and began to drink. She quickly finished, and it was only then that Rarity spoke again.
"So, Twilight," she began, her words clipped and precise. "What, exactly, did that spell of yours do?"
Twilight considered the question, then answered, "Well, are you familiar with The Blackstone Cases?"
"No."
"Really? You should give them a try, they're— Um, nevermind. The point is that I read about this thing called a 'soulgaze', where one pony can look into another's mind and find out more about her, and—"
"And you thought you'd try it out for yourself," Rarity finished.
"Exactly!" Twilight exclaimed. "Let me tell you, it wasn't easy putting the spell together. Mental magic is really tricky."
She started to describe the process she'd gone through, from researching the theory to finalizing the equations. Rarity waited until Twilight was completely engrossed in her monologue, then, when the librarian stopped for breath, she calmly said, "So, while you were working out your etheric structures and power-to-weight ratios, did you ever consider what you were actually setting out to do?"
Twilight paused, thrown. "What do you mean?"
"You never considered the implications of being able to look into somepony's thoughts?"
"Um..."
"Tell me Twilight, do you have any secrets? Any little habits or guilty pleasures that you keep to yourself? Maybe a foalhood crush you never acted on?" Without waiting for a reply, she pressed on. "Would you like it if they weren't secrets anymore? If somepony could just read your mind as though it were a little journal, and see whatever she wanted?" Though she'd started calm and quiet, by the end, Rarity was shouting.
"I guess not," Twilight mumbled. She was looking down at her hooves, at the floor, anywhere but Rarity's eyes. She was hunched over, and appeared to be trying to shrink into the cushions of the sofa.
"Then why would you do it?" Rarity yelled.
Twilight couldn't think of anything to say. She tried to speak a few times, but no words came. All she could do was try to hide herself from her friend's accusing glare.
Rarity took a slow breath, getting herself back under control and forcing her anger down. "I'm sorry, Twilight, but what you did was a serious breach of trust. I just... I need to think about this for a while. As do you." She put up a hoof, forestalling Twilight's reply. "No, don't say anything. I'm in no mood to hear it right now, and I have a spa appointment to prepare for."
Twilight took the hint, and sullenly walked over to the boutique's exit. She paused with her hoof on the door, seemingly about to say something, then thought better of it and left.
When she was gone, Rarity sighed. As brilliant as Twilight was, she could be an absolute dolt sometimes. The young scholar often leapt straight into things without thinking through the consequences, Rarity knew. This, though, was far more troubling. She sighed again; three-thirty couldn't come soon enough.
Twilight walked. She didn't look where she was going, nor did she care. Her hooves carried through the streets of Ponyville on their own, running on automatic. Her eyes stared dully at the ground, not taking in anything more than was necessary to avoid crashing. Such was her lack of attention that she completely failed to notice a frantic Pinkie Pie galloping past her in the opposite direction, bulging saddlebags on her back. At the moment, details like that mattered little to her.
How could I have been so stupid? she admonished herself. I never even thought about their privacy. I just had to see what their souls looked like, didn't I? Never mind that I already know them all so well anyway, or that I didn't even ask their permission first. No, Twilight Sparkle wants to try out her new spell, and to Tartarus with the consequences!
She thought of Rarity again, and what she'd seen before the disastrous revelation. Rarity was a pony who valued beauty, that much was obvious. Everything about her, from her accent to the curls in her mane, was painstakingly cultivated to be the absolute pinnacle of perfection. It wasn't just her own appearance that she valued, though; she wanted everypony else to be beautiful too. Whether it was through fashion or hair styling, Rarity strove each and every day to make the world a little bit more attractive.
While it was true that Rarity was more than slightly vain, it was not vanity that drove her to constant beautification. Rather, it was generosity. Rarity had a very clear idea of what was important to her, and assumed, on some level, that those values carried over to everypony else. When she saw somepony who did not meet those standards, she would go out of her way to help that pony along. She didn't make dresses for the money, though it certainly didn't hurt; she did it so that others could wear them and be more beautiful, the way she thought they wanted to be.
On the other hoof, Rarity constantly struggled with her own selfishness. It was her greatest failing, and she knew it. Whenever she looked at another pony, a little voice inside her said, "You're better than they are. Why should they come first?" She had long ago learned to ignore this voice, but occasionally it would manage to sway her. It had happened at the Best Young Flyers' Competition, and again during her recent visit to Canterlot. Rarity had to always be on guard, watching herself to make sure her greed wasn't the one making the decisions.
Then, right at her core, there was her strength. Rarity, at first glance, appeared to be the stereotypical drama queen. She would launch into hysterics at the drop of a hat, and tended to hyperbolize and generally ham it up. It was, in truth, no more than an act. When the chips were down, Rarity was a bastion of rationality and willpower. She was cool under pressure, and never wavered in her resolve. She put on the histrionics to keep up her mystique, to play into everypony's expectations, and, most importantly, because it was fun.
This was the Rarity that Twilight had seen. And now she hates me, Twilight thought darkly. All that generosity and patience, and I managed to overstep it.
I need help, she realized. I can't fix this by myself. She stopped walking, taking stock of where her aimless wandering had placed her. She realized with a start that she'd been unconsciously heading towards Sweet Apple Acres. Perfect. Applejack will know what to do.
Twilight quickly reached the farm's border, marked by an old, wooden fence. It wasn't really necessary, she reflected. The neat rows of apple trees, their fruits growing but not yet ripe, left no doubt as to where the Apples' orchards began. Besides, everypony knew Sweet Apple Acres.
Twilight found Applejack lounging in the shade of the Apple family barn, her trademark Stetson pushed forward over her eyes and a piece of straw sticking out of her mouth. "Applejack?" Twilight said, her voice dull.
"Hm?" Applejack roused herself from her rest, pushing her hat back so she could see. "Oh, howdy Twilight," she said in greeting. "Twi? Is somethin' wrong?"
"Oh, Applejack, I'm such an idiot," Twilight despaired. "I did something stupid, and now Rarity hates me. She probably never wants to see me again." She flopped down onto the grass, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
Applejack looked at Twilight with concern clear on her face. It was plain that Twilight really believed she'd ruined her friendship with Rarity. "Why don't ya tell me what happened," she suggested. "Start from the beginning."
Twilight sniffed and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hoof, then started to speak. She explained everything, from how she hadn't been able to sleep after reading about the soulgaze to how she'd scoured every bookshelf in her library to find a way to do it herself. She described the encounters with Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash, and what the spell had shown her about them. Finally, she came to her arrival at Carousel Boutique, and the disastrous conversation with Rarity. By the end, the tears had returned, and Twilight's voice wavered as she fought to keep them back. "What should I do?" she asked.
Applejack was a long time in answering. She stared out over the sprawling Acres, chewing thoughtfully on her straw. "Sounds to me like the only thing you can do is apologize," she eventually said. "Ah don't think ya meant any harm, and Ah'm pretty sure Rarity knows it too. She's probably regrettin' it as much as you are."
"She sounded so angry, though," Twilight said. "She should be, too. I violated her privacy, and I didn't even ask."
"Yes, that's true," Applejack admitted, and Twilight's face fell. "But," she added, "from what you've said, it sure doesn't sound like what ya saw was bad."
"No," Twilight agreed. Bad was the last word she would have used to describe it. Beautiful, pure, and stunning were more accurate.
"And you don't think any less of her because of it, do you?"
"What? Of course not!"
"Then Ah don't see the problem," Applejack stated.
"But—" Twilight protested, but Applejack cut her off.
"Look, ya should've asked first. Apologize for not takin' her feelings into account, but don't be sorry for what ya saw." When Twilight still didn't look convinced, she asked, "You're really worried about this, huh?"
Twilight sighed. "I don't know. I thought this would be a great way to get to know you all better. Maybe..." she trailed off, trying to put her thoughts into words. "Maybe we're not meant to know other ponies that well. Maybe the only pony I should know everything about is myself." After all, she thought, what's the point of trust if you know everything the other pony thinks? Sure, we can talk and write and communicate, but we can't ever really know anypony as well as we know ourselves. Maybe our minds are our own for a reason.
Again, it was a while before Applejack spoke. "That's a mighty big question," she said at last. "Ah'm not rightly sure Ah know the answer. Ah guess ya just have to ask yourself if ya'd let somepony else do it to you."
Would she? If somepony asked to look into her mind, what would she say? "Would you?" Twilight wondered, more to herself than to Applejack.
"Are ya askin'?"
"Let's assume I am," Twilight said. "What would you say?"
"Well, shoot, Ah wouldn't mind," Applejack answered. "Ah reckon ya know me pretty well anyway, so what's the harm?"
"You mean it?"
"O'course. Plus," she added, "Ah know ya won't be able to rest, not knowin'. Best to get it outta the way." Applejack rolled over onto her belly, then pushed herself onto her hooves and stretched the sleep out of her joints. "Ah just gotta stand here, right?"
Twilight was slightly taken aback at this turn of events. In all of the other soulgazes, she'd been the one to initiate it. Now, with Applejack taking the lead, she wasn't so sure she wanted to. "Now?" she asked, her voice coming out slightly panicked. "What about apologizing to Rarity?"
"It's Thursday, ain't it? Won't she be at the spa with Fluttershy? You've got some time. 'Sides, you're here already. Might as well save yourself the walk."
Applejack was speaking sense, Twilight knew. No matter how badly the last attempt had gone, the soulgaze still held that immense fascination. Twilight had wanted to see all her friends' minds, and here was Applejack, volunteering. It would be a shame not to take this opportunity while she had it. Are you sure that's the only reason? came a voice in the back of her mind. Or are you just stalling because you don't want to face Rarity just yet?
Oh, shut up, she thought back. Maybe you're just stalling because you don't want to soulgaze Applejack.
The little voice sputtered in indignation. This was quite impressive, considering it was purely a construct of Twilight's mind, and lacked both the vocal cords and the emotional capacity that normally would have been required for such a feat. What? You can't turn this—
"Okay," Twilight said with finality, cutting off any remaining chance for doubt. Then, steeling herself for what she was about to do, she readied the soulgaze for the fourth time in two days. "Here goes!"
What? Did I mess it up? Twilight wondered. By all appearances, she was still in Sweet Apple Acres. She could see the rolling expanses of apple trees, broken up by the occasional path, shed, or barn. Not too far away was the Apple family home, its red paint making it stand out against the blue sky and green foliage. The spell had worked though; Twilight could feel the slight drain of the magic. So, if the soulgaze hadn't failed, then she was indeed looking at Applejack's mind. Applejack's mind looks like her farm? That's not very creative.
As in Rainbow's mind, however, differences began to appear. The sign over the farm's gate, normally announcing that the reader had just entered "Sweet Apple Acres", now read only "Applejack". The entire farm looked much newer, as well. Each building had fresh paint, and where the roof of the Apples' main barn had been threatening to collapse, here it could have been built yesterday. Even the trees were younger, their barks not quite as gnarled, though they still towered over Twilight.
The biggest change was in Applejack's house. The entire structure glowed, as though the paint had been applied to beams of sunlight rather than of wood. Light spilled out of the windows and the doorways, and though it shone intensely, Twilight had no trouble looking at it. It wasn't a uniform brightness, however. A few areas—based on how she remembered the house's layout, Twilight pegged Applejack's bedroom and the kitchen as being among them—gave off much more light than others.
As Twilight continued to look around, she noticed a few other patches of the same light. These too varied in brightness, from barely visible to good enough to read by, though none came close to the light of the house. They seemed to be scattered about randomly, marking areas whose significance escaped Twilight. A tree here, a stump there, one at the top of a hill; she couldn't see any connection between the glowing spots. Presumably, they were somehow important to Applejack, or else why would they be given detail in her mind?
It was then that Twilight realized she hadn't seen the orange farmpony anywhere. In all the other soulgazes, the pony whose mind it was had appeared straight away. Multiple times, in Pinkie's case. Where could she be? Twilight wondered. The house, she decided immediately, and set off towards it. When she reached the glowing building, she started to walk around to knock on the front door. Before she got there, though, a scene through one of the windows caught her attention, and she looked in to see what was going on.
Inside, the Apple family were gathered around a table piled high with food. Applejack, Applebloom, Big Macintosh, and Granny Smith all sat there, eating, talking, and laughing together. Like the farm outside, they too looked younger than Twilight had seen them. Granny Smith, though still obviously old, had perhaps a few less wrinkles, maybe a bit more energy. Big Macintosh was smaller, his muscles not as pronounced. Applejack, though now barely a mare, still looked much the same as ever, from the dusting of freckles on her cheeks to the Stetson atop her head. Even in her mind, it seemed, she never went anywhere without her hat. Applebloom was the least changed, but it was still noticeable in how her eyes seemed too big for her head and the lopsided way her bow stood, as though she had only just learned to tie it herself.
The dining room itself was different as well. When last Twilight had seen it, the walls had been mostly bare, but now they were covered in pictures. Photos and paintings of ponies of every description decorated every inch of wallspace, their subjects looking into the room from within their wooden frames. Some Twilight recognized, either from the Apple family reunion or just from around town, but there were many more she didn't. Twilight herself was there, close to the center of the room, along with the rest of her fellow Element Bearers. Are these all the ponies Applejack knows? she wondered. There are so many. As she peered further into the house, she could see that the pictures weren't confined to the dining room. They stretched down the hallway and up the stairs, and Twilight wouldn't have been surprised if they filled the entire house.
She looked back at the table, and at the family enjoying their meal. Something about it struck her as odd, but she couldn't put her hoof on it until she saw the chairs. Though only four ponies sat at the table, six chairs surrounded it. The two at the head stood empty, the places that had been set for them untouched. It was possible that the table was simply bigger than it needed to be, and the extra seats were in case they had guests, but then why had plates and food been set out? Twilight wondered whom they were meant for, and why they hadn't shown up. Before she could think of anypony, however, the scenery around her began to fade, and the soulgaze ended.
Rarity knew how to be fashionably late. When the situation called for it, she knew exactly how long to delay to give the desired impression. Arriving too early would make her appear impatient. Too late, and it would seem that she had simply forgotten. The timing also depended on Rarity's and her host's relative social standing. The more important the host, the earlier she would arrive, so as to give the proper respect. Then, when the proper time came and she finally did arrive, she knew exactly what to say to cement her reputation. It was an art, one that Rarity had perfected over a lifetime of aspiring to a life of high society.
When it came to the spa, it was all forgotten. Rarity valued her friendship with Fluttershy far too much to let some stuffy pretensions deprive her of even a minute with the pegasus. She always made the effort to arrive several minutes early for their appointment, just so she and Fluttershy could spend more time together. Today was no exception, and by the time Fluttershy walked through the door of Ponyville Day Spa, Rarity was already there, reading through last week's issue of Ponies.
"Fluttershy!" Rarity exclaimed upon hearing the entrance bell. She closed her magazine and replaced it on the rack, before giving a warm smile to her best friend. "You're here!"
"Hello Rarity," Fluttershy greeted in return. "And hello Lotus," she said to the blue spa pony behind the counter. To Rarity, she asked, "How are you?"
Rarity's smile faltered briefly. "I've been better," she admitted.
"What's wrong? You're not hurt, are you?"
"No, no," Rarity said, reassuring the panicked pegasus. "Nothing like that. I just had a bit of an... unfortunate encounter with Twilight this morning."
"Is she...?" Fluttershy trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished. The implication was clear, however; both ponies knew about Twilight's occasional bouts of neuroticism.
"I don't think so," Rarity answered. "It's a bit of a long story. Do you mind waiting to hear it until we've started? I could really do with some pampering."
"Of course."
With that, Rarity signaled to Lotus that they were ready to begin, and the three of them walked into the spa, and into Rarity's favorite part of the week.
Fluttershy considered her friend curiously. Rather than leaping straight into an explanation of what had happened with Twilight, Rarity had begun their spa session in silence. Normally, the fashionista never stopped talking during these visits, laying out everything that had happened since their last meeting, with Fluttershy needing only to provide a few choice words of input. This time, however, Rarity was uncharacteristically quiet. She said nothing in the sauna, nor during their massages. Even when Aloe was applying her mud mask, she wouldn't speak, and her mood continued to darken.
Finally, when Lotus began to file Rarity's horn, Fluttershy could bear the silence no longer. "Rarity?" she said quietly, her voice full of concern. "You haven't said a word this whole time. What's going on?"
Rarity started, as though she'd forgotten Fluttershy was there. "Hmm? Oh, right. Twilight." She fell silent again, a mix of expressions playing across her features.
"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it," Fluttershy began quickly, but Rarity shook her head.
"No, I want to talk about it. I need to talk about it." Rarity took a breath, composing herself, before launching into her story. It started out hesitantly, but as Rarity went on, the words began to flow more freely. She poured out her explanation, and with it the pain and anger that had been building up inside her since Twilight's visit. Fluttershy listened with rapt attention as her friend described the way Twilight had shown up at Carousel Boutique, her mane a mess, before Rarity had repaired it. Afterwards, Twilight had done something, apparently some sort of spell, that had utterly violated Rarity's privacy. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it," Rarity finished. "It brought me completely out of the zone. I couldn't even finish my project!"
"Project?" Fluttershy asked, breaking her observant silence. Lotus's ministrations had finished during Rarity's story, and they were now relaxing in the mud baths.
"Just a little order I was working on," Rarity answered dismissively. "I wanted to have it finished before our appointment, but Twilight's little visit completely threw me." She sighed through her mud mask. "How could she do that, Fluttershy? Just look into my private thoughts?"
"I'm sure she didn't mean it like that," Fluttershy said.
"I know she didn't. She probably didn't mean anything by it. You know how she gets, so completely focused on her spells that she doesn't think things through." Rarity sank deeper into the mud. "So why am I so angry with her?"
Fluttershy had no answer for her, and both mares fell into another silence. The yellow pegasus's mind was racing with questions, the answers to which she couldn't find. Twilight's new spell seemed so terrifying. Fluttershy, timid as she was, couldn't begin to imagine allowing another pony to see her in such detail. She'd thought being a model had been bad enough, what with her every move thrust into the public eye, but at least then nopony had been able to know what she was thinking.
Why would it be so bad? a little voice in her mind asked. What don't you want them to see? She heard it often, the voice of courage and excitement, but her own insecurities and doubts always drowned it out. They came back in full force this time, crying out that other ponies would judge her and ridicule her, that once she let somepony see her like that, they'd never think of her the same way. They were old arguments, but force of habit had long ago made Fluttershy receptive to them. This time, however, that little voice wouldn't go away.
Twilight would never judge you like that, it argued. She's your friend, and she'd like you no matter what some little spell says. Fluttershy realized this, and she knew that it held the answer to Rarity's dilemma. How could she explain it, though?
"Um, Rarity?" she said at last. "Are you sure you're mad at Twilight?"
"What do you mean?" asked Rarity, taken aback. "Who else would I be mad at?"
Fluttershy shook her head. "I mean, maybe you're just scared."
"Scared?" Rarity considered that for a moment. "Of what?"
"That maybe Twilight saw something that would make her not like you anymore." Fluttershy realized what she'd just said, and let out a little peep, before hastily adding, "I mean, not that I think there's anything like that to—"
Rarity cut her off, saying, "I know, dear." Was that it? Was she worried that Twilight had seen something that Rarity herself was not proud of? "Maybe you're right," she conceded. "Maybe I am scared."
"You know Twilight wouldn't think any less of you, no matter what she saw."
"I know, but that doesn't change the way I feel."
"Rarity," Fluttershy began. The unicorn in question looked up, though her eyes were still covered by her cucumber slices. There was something in Fluttershy's voice, a rare note of confidence, that grabbed her attention. "If anypony knows about being scared, it's me. I know all the little doubts you're having right now. You don't have to listen to them. You're braver than that. Who cares what Twilight saw? She'll always be your friend, and no little spell will change that."
Rarity's eyes were beginning to tear up, and she was suddenly glad for the cucumber slices. "Thank you, Fluttershy," she said. "You're quite brave yourself, you know. Maybe more than you give yourself credit for." She straightened up, composing herself again. "Now, let's get cleaned up. We've been in this mud for far too long; it's beginning to stick."
"I'm back," Twilight announced, when she returned from her voyage into Applejack's mind. The soulgazes were getting easier, or else she was getting used to them; she hadn't collapsed or blacked out this time. The headache was still there, though.
"So?" asked Applejack. "How was it?"
"I'll tell you in a minute. It's not quite done yet." Right on cue, Twilight was hit with the sudden flash of understanding that always followed a soulgaze. In that moment, she understood Applejack; she could see what drove the farmpony, what she valued, and what she feared.
Applejack was a pony who believed in the past. Her history, her memories, and the stories she knew from her foalhood were her most prized possessions. Tradition mattered to her, because it brought her closer to those who had come before. Every place she'd been and each object she owned had a story, and Applejack took it upon herself to make sure those stories were not forgotten.
Applejack loved her family. They had raised her and reared her, and would always be at her side. She did everything she could to make their lives better, whether through giving sisterly advice or by taking on extra work. Over time, that attitude had come to encompass every pony she met. After all, her family was so big that it seemed she could find a cousin or aunt just about anywhere, so it made sense just to treat everypony like family from the start.
Fairness, honor, and honesty all mattered to Applejack. She wasn't afraid to say what she thought, and didn't bother to dress up her words or put on false appearances. This often made her appear blunt and unkind. To her, though, the truth was always preferable to a lie. While a lie might provide temporary peace of mind, Applejack knew that in the long run, the guilt would become crushing. She'd become so accustomed to telling the truth that it was unthinkable to her that anypony else would lie or cheat. So much so, in fact, that she took such behavior, like when Rainbow Dash had cheated during the Iron Pony competition, as a personal offense.
The one pony Applejack struggled to be honest with was herself. She was proud, though not without reason; she had, after all, brought her farm considerable success during the years she'd been working it, and her athletic achievements were undeniable. This pride made her stubborn, and made it hard for her to accept help or admit that she was wrong. When she finally did come around and admit her mistakes, though, it was all the more powerful.
The rush of knowledge ended as suddenly as it had begun, and Twilight shook her head, gathering her thoughts. "Okay," she said, "it's done."
"What'd ya see?" asked Applejack.
"It was pretty strange," Twilight began. "It looked a lot like Sweet Apple Acres, actually."
"Really? Rarity gets a fancy castle, and Ah'm stuck with this old place?" Despite her words, Applejack's expression made it clear that she wasn't actually disappointed. "Sorry," she said, noticing Twilight's flat glare. "Go on."
Twilight continued, unperturbed by the interruption. "Anyway, it was pretty much the same as it is here." She went on to describe the scenery, explaining the strange glowing spots and the way everything had seemed much younger. As she recounted her experience in Applejack's mind, Twilight kept a close look on the farmer's reactions. For the most part, she listened to Twilight's narration with polite attention, but kept her face neutral. When the tale came to the Apple family home, however, she leaned forward, hanging onto every word.
Twilight dutifully described the pictures on the walls, but when it came to the dinner, and especially the empty chairs, she suddenly hesitated. Whatever those seats represented, it was obviously important to Applejack, but Twilight had no idea what that was. It seemed that, while it was great at conveying deep, personal characteristics, the soulgaze did not handle specific details very well. It was a picture, not a schematic. Her doubt was not lost on Applejack.
"Twi?" she asked. "Something wrong?"
"It's just... I'm not really sure." Twilight tried again. "There was a dinner table, and you and your family were eating at it. You all looked younger, too."
"Okay," Applejack said, wondering what the issue was.
"You, Applebloom, Big Macintosh, and Granny Smith," Twilight said, insistently. "The four of you, eating dinner as a family."
Applejack said nothing. She had a sickening feeling she knew where this was going.
"That wasn't all, though. There were two empty chairs." There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Finally, Twilight spoke up again, her voice quiet. "Do you... do you want to talk about it?"
After a pause, Applejack answered, "If it's all the same to you, Ah'd rather not."
Twilight knew better than to pry. If Applejack had wanted to discuss it, she would have. "Alright," she said, and then silence fell again. Eventually, Twilight remembered that she had something else to do. "Hey, what time is it?"
"Ahh, I feel simply marvelous," Rarity sighed as she exited the spa. "That was exactly what I needed. Aloe and Lotus are truly miracle workers, don't you agree?"
"It was very nice," Fluttershy agreed.
"And thank you for... well, you know. For listening."
"Oh, it's no problem at all."
"I feel I owe Twilight an apology," Rarity said, mostly to herself. "I might have been a bit harsh with her." It was strange, she thought, how different things looked now than they had just an hour ago. Fluttershy's advice, coupled with her relaxing spa session, had put her in a much better mood, and her previous anger now seemed completely unjustified.
"Twilight?" Fluttershy's voice snapped Rarity back from her contemplation. She followed the pegasus's gaze, and saw that Twilight was indeed there, galloping towards them at a frightening pace. When she spotted Rarity and Fluttershy, the young scholar slowed down, a look of relief on her face.
"Rarity!" she called, breathless. "I'm glad I caught you. I really need to talk with you."
"Hello Twilight," Rarity replied coolly. "I have a few things to say to you as well."
"I know, and—" Twilight paused, seemingly just noticing the third party in their conversation. "Um," she fumbled, not sure whether to continue in front of Fluttershy. The shy mare did, in fact, know the situation, but Twilight didn't know that, and didn't want to risk Rarity's further ire by divulging private information. Sure, she'd told Applejack, but that had been different; she'd badly needed advice, and, more importantly, Rarity hadn't been standing right in front of her at the time.
Fortunately, Fluttershy came to her rescue. "Rarity? I'll, um, catch up with you later, okay? You too, Twilight. See you girls later." With that, the canary pegasus trotted off, leaving Rarity and Twilight alone in front of the spa.
As soon as Fluttershy was out of earshot, Twilight launched into her apology, only to find that Rarity had done exactly the same thing. They paused, before trying again, only to run into the same problem. After a few false starts, and much talking over each other, they finally agreed that Twilight would get to speak first.
"Rarity," she began, "I'm so sorry. I should have asked your permission before I tried to soulgaze you. It was a complete violation of your privacy, and I forced it on you against your will. I'm really, really sorry, and I don't know how, but I will make it up to you."
Rarity waved a hoof dismissively, saying, "Twilight, dear, there's no need for that at all. If anything, I'm the one who should be sorry. I overreacted, and I shouldn't have shouted at you as I did."
"No, you had every right to be mad," Twilight insisted. "I didn't take your feelings into account. It's my fault."
Rarity wasn't having any of it. "Your fault? You didn't do anything wrong." When Twilight looked as though she were about to argue, she conceded, "Alright, maybe you did. But that still doesn't justify the way I acted. You didn't mean any harm, and yet I raised my voice at you and kicked you out of my shop." She sighed, then said, "Perhaps the best thing to do is to admit that we were both in the wrong, resolve to learn from our mistakes, and move on. What do you say?"
Twilight smiled, the worry of the past few hours washing away. "I think I can live with that," she said, before wrapping her forelegs around Rarity in a heartfelt hug. "Thank you."
Rarity returned the hug somewhat awkwardly, taken by surprise as she was. Return it she did though, and when Twilight broke the embrace, the fashionista said, "You know, Fluttershy's the one you should really be thanking. She helped me realize what I'd... well, she helped me figure out a few things. She set me straight on this whole soulgaze business."
"Really?" Twilight asked, mildly surprised. She seemed to consider this for a moment, then said, "Maybe I will go thank her." She turned and started trotting in the direction of Fluttershy's cottage, calling out over her shoulder, "Bye Rarity!"
"Goodbye, Twilight!" the alabaster unicorn responded, before setting off for her own home, and the as-yet unfinished sundress that awaited her within. Now that her mind was no longer so muddled, she felt a renewed determination to complete her work. In more ways than one, that spa session had been exactly what Rarity needed.
Twilight caught up with Fluttershy on the short bridge in front of the pegasus's cottage. "Fluttershy," she panted, short of breath from running all the way from the spa. I was only talking to Rarity for a few minutes, she noted, desperately trying to get her breathing under control. How did she get so far ahead of me?
"Oh, hello Twilight," Fluttershy greeted cheerfully. "Did you and Rarity, um..." Her voice, hard to hear at the best of times, faded into nothing.
"Yes, yes, we're fine now." Deep breaths. In, out, in, out. Next time, don't forget to pace yourself. When she felt sufficiently able to speak again, Twilight said, "That's why I'm here, actually. She said that you helped her figure some things out. I wanted to thank you. Without you, she'd still be mad at me."
"Oh," Fluttershy said, surprised. "I don't know about that. I just couldn't stand to see her upset."
"Well whatever you said, it worked." There was a pause, as Twilight argued furiously with herself. Eventually, having apparently reached a conclusion, she said, "So, did she tell you what it was that made her so angry with me?"
"Yes, she did."
"About the soulgaze and everything?"
"Um, yes. Well, she said what you said to her about it afterwards, anyway."
Twilight took a deep breath. "DoyoumindifItryitonyou?"
Fluttershy squeaked and shrank in on herself a bit.
"Please?" Twilight asked. "If you don't want me to, I'll understand. It's just that I've already soulgazed all our other friends, and I really want to know what it would show about you."
Fluttershy wanted to say "no". She wanted to run away and hide, because she didn't want to let Twilight see her in such detail. Something stopped her, though. If she ran now, it would be admitting that she was scared of the soulgaze. Everything she'd just told Rarity would be meaningless, because Fluttershy herself didn't believe it. If she couldn't face this, she'd be letting Rarity down. If not for herself, she had to do this for her friend.
"Okay," she whispered quietly. Hearing her own agreement bolstered her confidence, and she said, "I'll do it."
Twilight felt her heart soar. With the last of the soulgazes, she could satisfy the burning curiosity that had been consuming her for what seemed like ages. Finally, she could put this whole mess behind her. "Thank you!" she exclaimed. "Okay, just hold still. This'll only take a minute."
Fluttershy's mind was a garden. No, Twilight decided, garden isn't the right word. It implied a sense of order, of willing cultivation and planning. This was far too chaotic, the flowers and plants scattered seemingly at random. Azaleas, daisies, hibiscus, and many more besides grew in huge patches of color, separated by waves of green grass. It was wild, natural, but all the more beautiful for it.
As Twilight watched, a trio of butterflies wheeled past, landing softly on a nearby bush. A rabbit darted out from its den, hopping across the meadow—for that was what Twilight had decided it was—in search of food. Birdsong filled the air, adding to the general chatter of the other animals to create a symphony of nature.
All this served only to make the tree seem more out of place. It stood alone in the center of the field, breaking the otherwise flat landscape. No flowers grew near it, and what little grass was there was brittle and dead. The tree's branches were old and gnarled, the bark blackened and charred. For all that, though, it still stood strong, bearing what seemed to have been a lifetime of abuse. A massive chain wrapped around its thick trunk, affixed to a slumbering dragon. The chain was heavy, its links well-made, but it seemed to Twilight that it would be woefully insufficient should the dragon ever wake.
Outside the field was a thick, dark forest. It seemed to go on endlessly, surrounding the peaceful little meadow on all sides. Under its leafy canopy, shadows loomed. They shifted and twisted, forming sinister figures and cackling faces. They pressed in on the bright meadow, but never actually left the cover their trees provided. Occasionally, one would detach itself from the rest to approach the sunshine and flowers, but they invariably turned back just shy of the border.
Other than Twilight, only one of the meadow's inhabitants seemed to pay the shadows any mind. Standing in the field, midway between the ring of trees and the chained beast, was Fluttershy. She looked older than normal, more tired. Her expression was grim as she stood alone, seeming to Twilight to be guarding something. Occasionally, she would cast a worried look at the darkness around her little world. When she saw one of the shadows moving closer, she froze, and only when it turned back at the last minute did she breathe a sigh of relief, glancing at the dragon behind her.
Twilight wasn't sure what Fluttershy feared more; that the shadows would break through and hurt her, or that the dragon would wake up and destroy them. This thought cast the entire scene in a darker light, completely at odds with the pegasus's outwardly cheerful, if shy, disposition. Twilight cast around desperately, searching for some spot of warmth to balance out the darkness. She found it, naturally, when Fluttershy smiled.
A rabbit had run up to the shy mare, a single flower between its teeth. It had tugged on her mane, offering its gift to her, and she had smiled. In that moment, all of Fluttershy's fears and doubts had disappeared from her face, replaced by pure, unbridled joy and thanks. Years seemed to fall away from the pegasus, stripped away by the warmth of her expression. It was such a simple thing, yet so beautiful that Twilight wanted to cry. She could bear no more; it was all too much. Twilight ended the spell.
"Yup! I've got the streamers and the balloons, Applejack's bringing the cake, and Fluttershy has the presents. Are you sure you and Rarity can keep them busy while I set everything up?"
"With my moves? I could keep 'em watching for days!"
"I don't need days! I only need an hour! Actually, it'd be more like fifty-three minutes. Fifty-one if I rushed. But then I might mess up, and I'd have to fix things, which might make it take as long as sixty-two minutes, which—"
"I get it. Don't worry. Like I said, we have it covered."
"Awesome! This is gonna be the most super-surpriseriffic surprise party ever!"
"I hope so, with how long we've been planning it. Anyway, I've got some weather jobs to do, so I gotta dash. I'll see you tomorrow, Pinkie."
"Bye Dash! Don't be late!"
"Twilight? Are you all right?"
Twilight shook her head, clearing away the last vestiges of the soulgaze. "I'm fine," she answered, and was dismayed to find that her voice cracked. She tried again, this time with better success.
Fluttershy didn't look convinced. "Are you sure?" she asked. "You look a bit... upset."
"What do you mean?"
"You were, um, crying a bit."
Twilight brought a hoof up to her face. There was a line of moisture down her cheek, confirming what Fluttershy had said. Well, that's new, she reflected. I wonder what—
Her line of questioning was abruptly interrupted by the second phase of the soulgaze. Information rushed into her head, drowning out any other thought. As it had done four times previously, Twilight's spell gave her a sudden. deep understanding of the pony before her.
Fear, in one form or another, was the guiding force in Fluttershy's life. Heights, darkness, dragons; she was scared of so many things, and went out of her way to avoid them. She stuck to what was safe and familiar, and it took a great deal of pressure before she would try something new.
Fluttershy was, as her name implied, shy. Other ponies terrified her, and she couldn't stand the thought of being watched or judged. It was a crippling fear, one that shaped everything she did. She secluded herself from the world around her and lived mostly in isolation, with only her animal friends as company. When she had to go into town, she finished her business as quickly as possible, keeping her head down and avoiding crowds. Though she had recently, with help from Rarity, begun to open up slightly, it was still very rare for Fluttershy to so much as speak in public.
Timid though she was, Fluttershy was not weak. When push came to shove, she was one of the fiercest ponies around. The pegasus had an inner strength, ready to be called on should she or her friends be in danger. Given the proper motivation, Fluttershy could perform amazing feats, from staring down a cockatrice to outflying Rainbow Dash, the fastest pegasus in all of Equestria. There was no question that, once she'd finally managed to overcome her fears, nothing could stop her. It was this, paradoxically, that scared Fluttershy the most.
The only thing the canary pegasus feared more than social interaction was herself. She'd seen what her other, more aggressive side could do, and she hated it. Freed from her normal inhibitions, she'd hurt other ponies, even her own friends. The pain she'd caused was more than she could bear, so she did everything she could to keep herself in check. This was part of the reason she was so nice and submissive to everypony; it was atonement for the pain she'd inflicted.
The other reason for her kindness was her enormous capacity for empathy. Fluttershy couldn't stand to see anypony be sad or hurt, or especially scared. She'd been there, and she knew how it felt, so she did what she could to make sure nopony else went through the same thing. It meant that she often gave praise where it wasn't due, or else refused to question another pony's actions, but it was worth it if it meant she could make them feel better.
Fear, strength, and kindness. Everything that Fluttershy was, it began there. Twilight saw, and she understood.
"Twilight? You're crying again."
"Huh?" Twilight snapped out of her trance, Fluttershy's voice bringing her back to reality. "Oh, sorry," she said, wiping away the tears with the back of a hoof.
"Are you... are you sure you're okay?" Fluttershy asked, her voice filled with concern. "Was it the soulgaze? It was bad, wasn't it? I'm sorry..."
"What?!" Twilight exclaimed, making the pegasus flinch. "Are you serious? It wasn't bad at all! It was amazing!" She took a breath, calming herself down. "Fluttershy," she said, gently, "you have nothing to be afraid of. Your mind was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen." She paused. "There's a sentence I've never said before," she commented wryly.
That got a nervous chuckle out of Fluttershy. "You really mean that?" she asked.
"Of course. I could tell you about it, if you want."
"Oh no, that's okay. I have some, uh, animals to take care of anyway, and I wouldn't want to keep them waiting."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Twilight said, mentally scolding herself. Once again, she'd put her own needs ahead of her friend's. "I didn't mean to keep you from your animal friends."
Fluttershy hurriedly tried to explain that she hadn't meant to imply that Twilight was intruding, but the unicorn interrupted her before she could start hyperventilating.
"It's fine," she said. "I should probably get back to the library anyway. I'll see you later, okay?"
"Okay," Fluttershy agreed. "Bye, Twilight."
"Bye, Fluttershy." Twilight turned to leave, and took a few steps before stopping. "Fluttershy?" she said, not turning around.
"Yes, Twilight?"
"Thanks."
Fluttershy's cottage sat on the edge of the Everfree Forest, about as far from the rest of Ponyville as it was possible to be without actually being separate from it. The walk from there to the other side of town was not one to be taken lightly, and by the time Twilight reached the towering tree she called home, the afternoon had given way to the evening. The normal activity of Ponyville had begun to wind down, the ponies wrapping up their business and getting ready for a good night's sleep. It being summer, the sun was still out, but it wouldn't be long before it, too, turned in for the night.
Owloysius was already awake when Twilight walked through the library's door, perched on top of a bookshelf. He gave a hoot of greeting on seeing his mistress return. "Hello to you too," she responded, before letting out a yawn. She was completely exhausted, both mentally and physically, and couldn't wait to climb up to her room and collapse on her bed. She felt like she could sleep for weeks.
The same could not be said for her young assistant. Spike, filled with the excitement so common to young children the night before an important day, was making dinner in the kitchen. Twilight could hear his happy humming through the doorway, and decided that sleep could wait until after she'd eaten. "Spike," she called, "I'm home."
"Cool," came the response. "You're just in time; food's almost ready."
Isn't that convenient, she thought. Still, at least she wouldn't have to wait very long. Sleep was calling her, and she was finding it harder and harder to resist.
"How'd it go with Rarity?" Spike asked, once they had begun to eat. "You were gone all day; did something happen?"
Twilight finished her mouthful of food, chewing slowly as she considered the question. "It went..." she started, not sure what to say. Her first encounter with the fashionista had been an unmitigated disaster. Twilight doubted she'd ever be able to forget the look of pain and betrayal that had been on Rarity's face, or how much her accusations had hurt. At least she'd been able to apologize, and their friendship would certainly recover with time. In addition, it was that mishap that had given Twilight the opportunity to soulgaze both Applejack and Fluttershy, and so put that whole issue behind her. "It went well," she declared.
"That's good," the dragon replied. He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice to a whisper. "What was it like? Was I right?"
"Spike," Twilight scolded teasingly, "that's her business, not yours."
"Oh, come on!" he complained. "Please? I won't tell anyone!"
"Sorry, but I'm not telling." Before her assistant could object again, Twilight added, "Maybe later. It's just been a really long day, and I really don't want to think about this stuff any longer than I have to. I'm just glad this is all over."
Spike made a show of grudgingly accepting her explanation, but he knew that he would get the full story eventually. Twilight always told him everything; all he had to do was be patient. As he resumed working through his food, something about her sentence made him do a mental double-take. "Did you say something about all this being over?"
"Yes, I'm done with soulgazes," Twilight answered. "I've used the spell on everypony now, and—"
"Everypony?" he interjected, a note of panic entering his voice. He wouldn't put it past her to have gone overboard with yet another psychic spell.
"Oh, you know what I mean. Fluttershy, Applejack, Pinkie, Rainbow, and Rarity. Not everypony in town." Spike gave a small sigh of relief, as Twilight continued, "Anyway, once I've recorded my observations, we can put this whole ordeal behind us." She yawned, then added, "I think I'll leave that for tomorrow, though."
"Speaking of which, what did you want to do for the eve of the Summer Sun Celebration? I was thinking, since we don't have to organize everything this year, maybe we can take the day off," Spike suggested. "You know, just enjoy the summer weather, hang out with friends, sleep in..." He trailed off, imagining his perfect day.
Twilight yawned again. "Right now, sleeping in sounds pretty nice. Here's hoping we don't have to deal with another world-threatening disaster, like Nightmare Moon." She paused, having just realized something. "You know, come tomorrow, we'll have been living in Ponyville for two whole years."
"Yeah," Spike agreed. "It's crazy how fast it went."
The next morning, Twilight woke up once again to the sun streaming through her window. That's two days in a row I've slept in now, she noted, resolving not to make a habit of it. With a yawn and a stretch, the librarian climbed out of bed and walked over to the mirror on the wall to begin her morning routine. It started with brushing her hair and generally cleaning herself up (yesterday's events had reaffirmed the necessity of this step), followed by breakfast, then she or Spike would set out food for Peewee and Owloysius. While both phoenixes and owls were predators by nature, ponies had long been able to make alternative foods to meet their dietary needs, and it was this that Twilight poured into their respective food bowls. After that, she brushed her teeth, and then the day could begin.
Twilight's schedule for today was largely empty, and what few things were on it weren't especially time-sensitive. This was partly a result of the lesson she'd learned after her dabbling in time-travel, but mostly because even she recognized the importance of taking a day off every once in a while. It being the eve of the Summer Sun Celebration, and the second anniversary of her move to Ponyville on top of that, made today perfect for a bit of worry-free relaxation.
So it was that the lavender unicorn spent the entire morning curled up in her study, nosing through whatever books struck her fancy. Interruptions weren't an issue; even at its busiest, Golden Oaks Library rarely had to deal with more than a dozen or so customers in a day. Ponyville was only a small town, after all, and the lack of a major university or academic institution beyond a primary school meant that there weren't many ponies in need of research materials. Add in the fact that today was both a holiday and a Friday, and the library probably could have stayed closed for all the business it would see.
After Twilight had devoured the complete text of The Comprehensive Compendium of Canterlot Coinage—rather wordy, but fascinating all the same—her thoughts turned to the events of the previous couple of days. She'd experimented with a new field of magic, and the laws of scientific discovery dictated that she must make a record of it. The unicorn pulled open a drawer of materials, telekinetically lifting out the supplies she needed to make her report. A quill and ink pot joined a set of fresh scrolls on her writing desk, adding to the clutter of notes and reference books already covering it. She unrolled one of the scrolls, weighting it down at the corners to keep it flat, then picked up the quill with her magic. Dipping it lightly in the ink, she set the nib to the paper, and began to write.
The spell itself was the easy part. Twilight had already exhaustively calculated and catalogued the mechanics of the spell two days ago, which she diligently rewrote, adding in her observations of the mental fatigue and headache that followed each soulgaze. After three scrolls had been completely filled with dense notes and formulae, the librarian began the much more difficult task of describing and analyzing what she'd actually seen.
How could she explain it? There didn't seem to be words that could express the powerful emotions those visions had provoked. Joy, despair, rage, and, above all, intimacy. She'd seen all her friends as they really were, stripped of any false appearances or affectations. It wasn't really the sort of thing that lent itself well to the dry, clinical world of academic discourse.
Lunch came and went, and the afternoon quickly made its presence known, and Twilight still hadn't made any progress in her report. As the pile of failed starts grew, so did her frustration, until she was about ready to slam her head down on her desk and give up. Fortunately for the integrity of her cranium, a knock came at the door.
"Hi Rarity!" Twilight greeted upon opening the door and seeing her guest. "What brings you here?"
"Hello Twilight," the fashionista responded amicably. "And hello to you too, Spike."
Sure enough, as soon as he'd heard the name of his crush, the baby dragon had rushed to the door. "Hi," he said dreamily.
Rarity gave him a smile, before returning her attention to her fellow unicorn. "Are you busy at the moment?" she asked.
"Not really. I'm trying to write a report on the, um..." Twilight hesitated; sure, she and Rarity had made amends, but talking about the soulgaze with her still seemed incredibly awkward. "On some stuff," she said, lamely. "It's not going well. I can't figure out what to say."
"I've certainly been there before. Sometimes I'll just get stuck on a design for ages, waiting for inspiration to strike. I find that it often helps to leave it alone for a while, and come back to it with some fresh ideas. As it happens," she said, and Twilight could tell that she was coming to the real reason for her visit, "I may have just the thing you need. Rainbow Dash has been pestering me all day about some new routine she's been working on, and how I simply must see her perform it. I don't suppose you'd be willing to accompany me?"
"I guess so," Twilight answered. In truth, she had no desire to get back to writing. Maybe seeing some death-defying aerial stunts would do her some good.
"Can I come too?" Spike asked excitedly.
"Why, of course you can," Rarity told him. "Come along, Rainbow won't wait forever!" As the party of three began to walk over to the field that was to be the venue for their friend's performance, Rarity hung back slightly. Unseen by the other two, she turned her head back to the enormous tree that was Ponyville's library, and winked at one of the bushes by the door. A pair of bright, blue eyes within returned the gesture, and then Rarity quickened her pace to catch up to Twilight and Spike.
"So?" Rainbow asked, fluttering back down to the ground. "Was I awesome or what?"
"'Awesome' might be pushing it a bit," Twilight teased. As ever, the pegasus's flying had been spectacular, but to admit that would be to stoke her ego even further.
Rainbow stuck her tongue out in reply. "Whatever, you know I'm the best."
At this point, Spike chimed in from his perch on Twilight's back. "Hey, where'd Rarity go?"
Twilight looked to her left, to where her fellow unicorn had been standing to watch the performance. She was nowhere to be found. "Huh, I dunno. She was right here a few minutes ago." This, Twilight was sure of; Rarity had been cheering just next to her when Rainbow pulled off a delayed triple-axel corkscrew spin, and that hadn't been that long ago, surely. After that had come the Flaming Flip, the Amazing Aerial Acrobat, the One-Mare Death Spiral...
Maybe it had been longer than she thought. And, now that she thought about it, Rarity had been awfully quiet during the second half of the performance. Had she slipped away while Twilight was focused on Rainbow? "Did you see her go?" she asked the pegasus.
"Me? Did you see the sweet moves I was pulling off? I wasn't really paying attention to what my audience was doing." She shrugged, then said, "Maybe she left her sewing machine on or something."
"Maybe," Twilight said, frowning thoughtfully. Something wasn't right here, but she couldn't quite place it.
Before she could try to figure it out, Rainbow spoke up again. "Hey, thanks for coming to watch me and everything. I'm gonna head home now; you probably should too."
"It's not that late," Spike commented, but Twilight shook her head.
"No, Rainbow's right. We really shouldn't leave the library open with nopony in it." They said their farewells and headed their separate ways. Rainbow took off at her usual, reckless speed, while Twilight set a much more sedate pace.
Before long, Twilight and Spike reached their tree/house/library. As the librarian opened the door and stepped into the darkness beyond, she suddenly became aware of three very important facts: first, that when Rainbow Dash had flown away earlier, she had gone in completely the wrong direction to get home. Second, that today was the anniversary of a very special occasion in her life, and yet Pinkie Pie had thus far failed to make an appearance. Third, that she was currently staring down the barrel of a ridiculously large cannon.
Reacting purely on instinct, Twilight dove to the side, just as the cannon released a thunderous report and filled the air with... streamers? "SURPRISE!" five ponies shouted together (one of whom was rather lacking in volume, if not enthusiasm). The lights switched on, revealing all of Twilight's friends, a large cake, and a banner emblazoned with the words, "TWO YEARS IN PONYVILLE".
Pinkie Pie jumped out from behind her party cannon, positively beaming. "So?" she asked, expectantly. "Whaddya think?"
"I think my ears are bleeding," Twilight groaned, getting to her feet.
"What is all this?" Spike asked, slightly dazed. He hadn't been as quick to react as Twilight had, and he'd taken a direct hit from a burst of confetti. As Fluttershy flew over to him and made sure he was alright, Pinkie launched into her explanation.
"It's a party!" she said enthusiastically. "We've known you for two whole years! It's like a birthday! Well, except that nopony was born today. Okay, some ponies were born today, but that's not what we're celebrating."
"It's wonderful," Twilight said. "Thank you all for doing this; it means a lot."
"Aw, it's nothin' special," Applejack said. "We just wanted to show y'all that we're happy to be your friends."
Spike, having mostly recovered his balance, asked, "Hey, why the second anniversary? Why not the first?"
"We had planned on celebrating your one-year anniversary, of course," Rarity explained. "But after that, ah, altercation with Discord, we were rather distracted."
"So now it's a party for two years instead of one," Pinkie finished. "That means we have to have twice as much fun to make up for it! Come on, there's no time to lose!" Before she'd even finished talking, the confectioner leapt over to Twilight and grabbed her by the hoof.
As she was dragged away, Twilight couldn't help but smile. Here were all her closest friends, having worked tirelessly together just to make her feel welcome. There was Pinkie Pie, chattering away about something or other even as she pulled Twilight over to where she'd set up Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Pony. Applejack and Rainbow Dash, arguing over the latter's sleep schedule. Rarity, talking with Spike about one of her orders, and the rare gems she'd had to procure for it. Fluttershy, standing off to the side and listening to the music. Five completely different ponies, all of them friends.
In the past two days, Twilight had used the soulgaze on each of them. The whole time, she'd thought the spell showed everything there was to know. Clearly, that wasn't true. It was only now, seeing them all together and enjoying themselves, that Twilight finally understood. The soulgaze only showed their most basic traits, the beliefs and ideals that drove them. Their personalities, their little foibles, the things that made them laugh or cry—everything that made them individuals—were left out.
No spell could capture all the intricacies of a pony. To suggest otherwise was to display complete ignorance of the way relationships worked. Only by talking, playing, laughing, and fighting could one pony ever hope to know another.
Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Twilight Sparkle. Bearers of the Elements of Harmony. Heroes and saviors of Equestria. They were more than that, though. Above all else, they were friends.
By the time Twilight made it back home the next day, she was about ready to collapse. The party had kept going clear through the night, only stopping so they could watch the sunrise. After that, Pinkie Pie had offered to treat them all to breakfast. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep clouding her judgment, but Twilight had accepted her offer. Three plates of assorted cupcakes, muffins, and pancakes later, the librarian had excused herself as politely as possible, her other friends quickly following suit. Only Spike had stayed behind, wolfing down treats at a speed that even Pinkie herself could respect.
Now, feeling tired and slightly bloated, Twilight pushed through the front door of her tree. She surveyed the damage, and decided that it certainly could have been worse. Some scattered books, a sticky patch in the corner where some punch had spilled, and a few smears of cake frosting were about the extent of the mess. Spike's going to be busy when he gets back, she thought, picking her way around a tangle of streamers on the floor.
The party had, at least, been largely confined to the front room. By comparison, Twilight's bedroom now looked absolutely pristine. She cast a longing glance at her bed, but as inviting as the crumpled pile of sheets looked, taking a nap now would throw her sleep schedule off completely. Instead, the young scholar homed in on the mirror atop her dresser.
Twilight didn't care overmuch about her own appearance. She didn't beautify or primp, and she saw the spa as more of a social obligation than a fashion one. Unlike Rarity, whose boutique was filled with so many mirrors for styling and designing that a pony could hardly walk through it without seeing her own reflection, Twilight only owned three mirrors. One was in the bathroom, for when she was brushing her teeth. One, a huge, industrial reflector, resided in the basement for use in certain works of magic or science. The third, and the subject of Twilight's current attention, sat on her dresser. Normally, the librarian used it to brush her mane and make sure she was generally presentable, but now she had a different task in mind, one inspired by the words of a friend.
"Twilight, a word?"
The unicorn in question looked back at the speaker. "What is it Rarity?" she asked. The others had already started to leave the library, ready to meet the rest of Ponyville on the stargazing hill and watch the sunrise. Rarity, however, was hanging back, looking unsure.
"In private, if you don't mind," she said.
Twilight frowned, slightly confused. "Um, sure, I guess." She addressed her next statement to Rainbow Dash, who was currently hovering, impatiently waiting for Applejack to clear the doorway so she could go. "Hey, Rainbow? Go on ahead; we'll catch up with you guys in a bit."
Rainbow gave her a curious glance, but then shrugged and said, "Okay, whatever. Don't be too long."
"We won't," Rarity promised. When the pegasus had left and the two unicorns stood alone in the library, Rarity spoke again. "What happened yesterday—no, let me finish first," she said, cutting off Twilight's interruption before it could start, "what happened yesterday was a bad mark on both our records. We have apologized and made amends, and I want to make it absolutely clear that I do not harbor any sort of grudge against you. I desire nothing more than to put this whole ordeal behind us so we can move on with our lives. Before I can do that, though, there is one thing that's been bothering me." She took a breath, as though mentally preparing for what she was about to say. "I take it that you have, at this point, used that spell on the rest of our friends?"
"Yes," Twilight answered simply. There was no reason to deny it.
"I thought as much. But what about you?"
"Me?" Twilight asked. "What about me?"
"There has been nopony to look at you. To see you in the way that you've seen us. It's..." Rarity paused, searching for the words. "Well, I suppose it's rather unfair."
Twilight dropped her gaze. "You're right," she said. "I guess I never thought about it like that." She looked back up, and asked, "What should I do? I mean, do you... I have the spell written down, if you want it."
Rarity shook her head, her extravagant lavender curls bouncing with the motion. "No, no, you misunderstand. You said that the things you saw during that spell were amazing, did you not? There were all the things you learned about us, good or bad. But there's one pony you're forgetting in all this." She poked the other unicorn in the chest with a perfectly-shaped hoof. "You. Don't forget your part in our little group." Glancing outside, Rarity said, "Now, we've kept the others waiting long enough, don't you think? Come along, or we'll be late."
Twilight focused on her own reflection, lit up by the morning sun. Rarity had been right, of course; there was one pony left to soulgaze. She ran through the mechanics of the spell again, making sure it would work. Using the spell on her own reflection, rather than on a physical pony, was a bit outside of what she'd built it for. Even so, she felt confident that it would work. She fired up her horn yet again, and felt the familiar sensation of a soulgaze beginning.
All things considered, it wouldn't have been a surprise to anypony that Twilight's mind looked like a library. In fact, it reminded Twilight of nothing so much as the Canterlot Archives that had been her favorite haunt as a filly. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered the walls, with yet more extending out into the room itself. There were rows upon rows of them, each and every one completely packed with books of every description. With its high ceilings and slightly musty atmosphere, it even felt like a regular library. It was all so familiar that Twilight very nearly forgot that it wasn't real.
She was standing in what appeared to be the center of the room, where a few tables and chairs formed a quiet area for studying. Books of all kinds were stacked on the tables, and a few had been left open by whoever had last read them. There didn't seem to be any pattern to the works currently in use; fiction or nonfiction, math or literature, any and all subjects were represented. Some of the books were new and relatively untouched, while others had certainly seen better days. It was, in short, chaos.
The bookshelves, by contrast, were very clearly organized. Each row of shelves contained its own subject, and the books on it were similarly ordered. Looking at the brass label on each row, Twilight realized she was seeing a collection of her own memories and knowledge. There was a section for "Locations I've Seen", another for "Foods I Like", and one for "My Birthdays". An entire corner of the room was given over to "Magic". One shelf in particular stood out, and Twilight trotted down the rows to get a better look at it. It was the newest-looking of all the shelves, and there didn't seem to be a single book on it more than a few years old. The label, not yet dulled by time, simply read "Friends".
Twilight wandered back into the center of the room. As she emerged from between the bookshelves, she saw that the study area was no longer empty. Sitting at one of the tables, her nose buried in a book, was a pony. This pony was in every way the spitting image of Twilight Sparkle herself, with the exception of her mane, which was longer and messier than Twilight would ever normally have allowed. She seemed completely oblivious to the other Twilight's presence, only shifting her focus at all when she had to turn a page. As Twilight watched, another doppelganger walked out of one of the rows across from her. This one wore her mane in a bun, and the pair of horn-rimmed glasses atop her snout gave her an altogether more refined air.
The prim Twilight lit up her horn, and the mess of books on the tables lifted into the air. At her direction, they sorted themselves into neat stacks, which she then set about returning to their shelves. The messy Twilight didn't pay her any heed, focused as she was on her reading. The actual Twilight, whose mind it was, watched the scene intently. There was the disheveled, studious Twilight, who read and learned everything, juxtaposed with the neat, fussy Twilight who only cared about putting everything where it belonged.
Without warning, the entire room jerked slightly to one side. A chair fell over with a clatter, and a book flew off a shelf in a fluttering of pages. Only the actual Twilight seemed to notice; to the other two, this was evidently nothing out of the ordinary. Indeed, when several minutes passed with no more excitement, Twilight wondered if perhaps she'd only imagined it.
When nothing more seemed to be forthcoming, Twilight cut off the flow of magic, and the library dissolved into nothingness.
The understanding, as it always did, came about a minute later. Twilight was hit with a tidal wave of knowledge, which crystallized into a set of core insights about herself. First, she was intelligent. Twilight sought out knowledge for its own sake. Obviously, she favored certain subjects, like magic or science, but any information was welcome in her mind. In the pursuit of understanding, Twilight had developed very strong reasoning abilities. The scientific method was second nature to her, and logic dictated her actions far more often than emotions did.
Stemming directly from this was Twilight's almost obsessive need for order. Everything had to be put in its own place, and organization was everything. The very existence of Reshelving Day was proof enough of this. It was why she spent so much time planning and scheduling everything, and learning to let some things happen on their own had been a very difficult lesson for her. Even when she made a mess (which was quite often), it was a mess under her own terms. That, and she usually had some new research project that wouldn't allow her the time to clean up properly. It was, by all objective measures, a very odd system.
From obsession came paranoia, and more than a hint of instability. Twilight's absolute faith in her own reasoning abilities often made her unable to look at another perspective. She had a tendency to focus on the worst possible outcome, which she then built structures of logic and reasoning to protect. Objectively she knew, for example, that Celestia was a wholly reasonable authority figure, but once her panicked mind had settled on the idea of failing her, it was all crazy smiles and town-wide mind control.
Then there was her painful lack of social experience. Being a complete loner for the majority of her life had left Twilight with an inability to pick up on social cues, and it meant she was often painfully naive. Though she'd advanced rapidly in the past two years, she still had a lot to learn.
All this information was hardly a revelation to Twilight. It was, after all, her own mind. She knew all of this already, on some level. It did seem, however, to be a bit harsh about her general mental state. Surely she wasn't that bad.
Regardless of what she thought of it, the fact was that Twilight had now definitively soulgazed everypony. After the revelation she'd had the previous night, she also knew how to finish her report. She even knew what she was going to tell the Princess. As soon as Spike got home, she'd be done. She trotted down the stairs and got to writing.
Dear Princess Celestia,
This week, I learned that it's always important to take your friends' feelings into account. Just because you want something doesn't mean that they will as well. If you're not sure what they'll think, it's always better to ask.
I also learned that there's no shortcut to getting to know somepony. It takes time and dedication to build relationships, and no spell can change that.
Well, here we are. The completion of my first ever piece of fanfiction, and indeed of fiction of any kind. It's been a hell of a ride, that's for sure. I thought, at this point, that it would be good to share a few things about my experience. This is going to be rather personal, and probably a bit weird. If you don't care for that, then by all means stop reading here. You can get the full experience of SoaP without ever seeing this.
I guess the first thing to do is to acknowledge all the people who helped me with this story. Frankly, it's a short list. I wrote and edited everything myself; no-one else sees my words until I hit that "publish" button. This is subject to change as I go forward, now that I have a couple of brony friends who have expressed interest in being my pre-readers. I would, however, like to thank Sky Pirate, the EqD pre-reader who approved my story. He gave me some much-needed feedback about the first few chapters, which I took to heart for the rest. I'd also like to thank Sir W. Hammer, for being an inspiration to me, and to us all.
Obviously, I couldn't have written this story without the geniuses behind "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic". It's their vision and their characters that gave me the foundations for my writing. So, to them, I give my humblest and most sincere thanks. Also, I probably should have mentioned earlier, in the traditional disclaimer format, that the show, settings, and characters belong to them, not to me.
I also want to thank all the people who have stuck with my little writing project. It's your support and feedback that have kept me motivated. I know it's been rough, and the waits have occasionally been long, but you believed in me, and for that I am forever grateful.
Now that the sappy stuff is taken care of, it's time for some random information about how I wrote this story. I started, as I may have mentioned in a comment somewhere, by thinking about what a Fluttershy soulgaze would look like. I wrote out a little, freeverse poem about it, and realized I had something good. I then thought about how such a thing might come about. I narrowed it down to either Harry Dresden stumbling across Equestria or Twilight trying out a new spell. I think you can figure out which one I picked.
By the time I started writing the second chapter, I'd roughed out the first six. I knew the order of soulgazes, and I knew what each would look like. Unfortunately, I then decided to rest on my laurels for a bit, and neglected to draft out chapter seven. The result of this was a six-week delay between updates, of which I am still ashamed.
I did a great deal of my drafting in public, which had some interesting results. At the time, I was not quite ready to embrace my brony status to the world at large, and therefore did some pretty bizarre things to obfuscate what, exactly, I was doing. For example, I only ever referred to the ponies' names in code. Rainbow Dash became S-Hog, Pinkie was F-Cab, Rarity was M-Low, Twilight was V-Win, AJ was J-Dan, and Fluttershy was D-Gun. If you can figure out the process of word association and warped logic I used to assign these names, I salute you.
With my basic understanding of Microeconomics, I have determined that, by writing this story, I cost myself about $400. That is roughly the amount I could have made if I devoted the same amount of time and effort into my (part-time) job as I did into writing. As of 3 December, SoaP has been viewed more than 5,400 times. Were it possible to charge people to read my story, that would equate to less than eight cents per view. Maths is fun!
Anyway, that's enough out of me. Enjoy your lives, and pony on.
