“A professor can never better distinguish himself in his work than by encouraging a clever pupil, for the true discoverers are among them, as comets amongst the stars.”

Linnaeus

Princess Celestia gazed down at the twisted nightmare of her former student. “Your omniscience, Twilight Sparkle, is limited to the written word: letters and numbers. The spell I gave them was inscribed in the form of a picture. It was drawn without the use of letters or numbers: only artistry.”

“You drew a spell?” Twilight said, her voice now a fraction of its previous volume. “You can do that!?”

“I didn’t teach you everything.”

“Keeping secrets from me?” Twilight scoffed. Why am I not surprised?”

“I tried giving you art lessons,” Celestia said. “You wouldn’t have anything to do with it. You said it wouldn’t be of any use to you during your magical studies.”

Twilight arched her back and lifted her head. “It’s an interesting trick, I admit, but hardly intimidating. What exactly is this scroll supposed to accomplish?”

Celestia alighted on the balcony. “Well I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You... you really mean to do this, don’t you? You truly intend to face me yourself?”

Celestia stepped forward, slow and striking. “You have something that does not belong to you. Something you have tarnished with your selfish and arrogant actions. You do not deserve to carry it within your heart and you will relinquish it at once.”

“Yes... of course. The element. And you expect me to simply pass it over? To abandon it without a struggle?”

“It restrains you,” Celestia said, arching one eyebrow. “Its sacred power still pulses within you, and your transformation will never be complete as long as you cling to it. Remove it... and you will only grow in power. You know this.”

Twilight gazed at her for a time. She lifted one wing and took out an ornate tiara: the gems and jewels were dull and the gold was tainted and blotchy. “You wish it? Very well.” She dropped the tiara to the ground and tramped a hoof onto it, snapping the frame and splintering several of the jewels. Her five friends gasped in horror, and even Celestia retreated half a step in alarm.

“No!” shouted Rainbow Dash. “How could you!?”

“How could I not?” Twilight turned back to Celestia. She kicked the largest fragment of the tiara forward and it tumbled to a stop in front of her. “You deceive almost as poorly as you fight! The element of magic wasn’t merely an object to be possessed. It was a part of my very spirit. It is a part of myself that I no longer require.”

Twilight spread her wings wide and hovered over the floor. The shaft of golden light receded slightly.

“Friendship may be magic, dear teacher... but knowledge is power.”

Celestia crouched down over the fragment. “My poor, deluded student... did you truly think you think you could destroy the elements of harmony, just like that?

“Enough of this sentimental tripe!” Twilight shouted. “Now face me, once and for all!”

“Every student believes herself wiser than the teacher.” Celestia gazed over the edge of the railing at the dull grey village below. From this height, the arrangement of the roads and buildings resembled a flower... a pattern of intricate, indescribable beauty. “You claim to be the princess of knowledge, and yet you have chosen to discard the facts that do not suit your personal tastes. Knowledge will not long suffer the shackles of censorship and propaganda. Knowledge is truth, and truth will always bend towards freedom.”

Celestia rose to her hooves, tall and proud, and the fragment of the tiara shone with blinding light. She leaned her head back, eyes closed, as the fragment began to meld and reform. Twilight flinched as the remaining shards at her hooves slipped through the air and rejoined.

“What!? No! The elements of harmony were a part of us! They were tied to our very essence: none other can use them!”

“It is true that the elements of harmony are yours alone,” Celestia said, “but these same elements have taken countless forms over the ages. You were not the first to wield their power, and you will not be the last!”

“It matters not!” Twilight roared. “You have no friends here, Princess. That element is useless without the remaining five!”

Pinkie Pie jumped forward, wagging her tail “We’re her friends!”

“Yeah!” shouted Rainbow Dash. “We all are!”

“Friends!? You revere your princess! You worship her! You could never think of her as an equal! You are merely her subjects, and as your ruler she is incapable of befriending you!”

Celestia nodded. “As always, Twilight, you are correct... but that does not make you right.”

The golden tiara reassembled itself fully, and Celestia removed her royal crown and allowed it to settle into place atop her brow. The jewels came alive with a spectrum of colors and the gold gleamed as bright as the sun. A cascade of rainbow light pushed back the murky clouds and shone down on the village below. Twilight flinched away in horror, while her friends stared in awe and wonder

“You are knowledgeable,” Celestia said, “but you have ignored the counsel of your closest friends. You have willfully made yourself vulnerable, and this will be your undoing.”

“Them? Counsel me?” Twilight scoffed. “I have no need of superstitions and sentiments! What knowledge could they possibly have to offer me?”

“I’m so very glad you asked!” Celestia reared up and stamped her hooves against the floor of the balcony. The entire structure shuddered beneath their hooves and a pair of massive white monoliths burst out of the stone floor to either side of them, each with a column of loudspeakers facing outwards. Twilight looked back at her friends just as a stage platform raised up under their hooves with a deep rumble. They looked around themselves in shock as a giant backdrop unfurled behind them and colored spotlights and laser projectors bloomed all around them.

Twilight stared at the elaborate music stage. “You can’t be serious.”

“We did things a little differently when I was a filly.” Celestia raised her voice and called out to the heavens, clear and resonant. “Rainbow Dash, who urged you to push through the self-imposed boundaries of your comfort zone and experience something new, embodies the element of... Courage!”

Everypony turned to watch as a whirlwind of magical light surrounded Rainbow Dash. The backdrop behind them lit up like the screen of a movie theatre—except this was in full, glorious color, and without a trace of grain or flicker—replaying images from when Twilight Sparkle had gone hang-gliding, wind-surfing, and white-water kayaking. The rainbow whirlwind concentrating into physical form, and when the light faded there was an electric guitar slung over the front of Rainbow Dash’s chest. Each string crackled with a differently colored arc of electricity.

“No way!” She reared up and held the guitar in place with her front hooves. “This is way more awesome than the old elements! Ya think she’ll let us keep ’em?”

Twilight stared at the magical instrument, momentarily ignoring the spectacular maelstrom of power that surrounded them all. “You cannot be serious.”

Celestia called out again. “Applejack, who accepted your great burden for herself, thus proving through example that all unearned power corrupts, embodies the element of... Sacrifice!”

The picture projected on the backdrop changed to show Applejack dressed in a business suit, marching atop the chain-link ceiling she’d used to trap her own friends. A whirlwind of colored light surged all around the real Applejack, transforming into a full kit of drums and cymbals.

“What?” Twilight said. “Oh, that’s hardly fair! That one was entirely her fault!”

Celestia continued, unabated. “Fluttershy, who begged you to cast aside your desire for perfection and acknowledge your flaws and failings, embodies the element of... Humility!”

The scenes projected onto the backdrop now depicted the dark mechanical spire Twilight had constructed out of the wreckage of her former life. The image zoomed in on Twilight, chained to the very peak and sobbing uncontrollably as Fluttershy urged her to let go of her bitter anger.

Twilight bit her lip for a moment. “Okay, now that’s not entirely fair. You see—” A flash of light cut her off, and she turned to see Fluttershy holding a bass guitar.

“Pinkie Pie, who struggled in vain to give you the serenity to accept that which cannot be changed, embodies the element of... Faith!”

The backdrop showed the library as it once was: a warm and inviting respite from the cold rain outside. Twilight and Pinkie Pie were standing in the doorway, watching Fluttershy as she set out to deliver a cake to the poor unfortunate orphans of Cloudsdale. Nightmare Twilight stared up at the cozy scene, too distracted to notice the microphone headset that appeared on the side of Pinkie Pie’s face.

“Rarity, who advised you to discipline your attitude and carry yourself with the dignity and prudence befitting a true princess, embodies the element of... Grace!”

Images of Princess Sparkle flickered across the screen and showed her as the glorious and radiant alicorn she had been, however briefly. But in each scene, in every encounter and conversation, her insensitive and hurtful words to her friends overshadowed her beauty. A flare of light surged around Rarity and materialized in the form of a jewel-encrusted keytar: a legendary instrument from the age of antiquity that was a mysterious fusion of guitar and keyboard. It was known in modern-day Equestria only as a chivalric symbol befitting the grandest of royalty.

With the last of her former friends imbued, Twilight turned to Princess Celestia. The storm of rainbow energy was now centered on her directly, and she loomed overhead with her radiant wings spread wide across the sky.

“I may be unable to befriend my subjects as true equals, but that does not mean I cannot love them. I loved you, Twilight Sparkle, just as I love all my little ponies. Love is the very keystone of my divine right to rule. Love is my promise to all living things, great and small... an endless ocean of understanding and forgiveness. You cannot hope to rule in my place, Twilight Sparkle, for you cannot love your subjects... not as you are now.”

She reared back in midair and the tiara on her brow burned like the molten core of the sun itself.

“For love is majesty!”

Twilight Sparkle hissed at her in unbridled fury, her dark fangs spread wide. She snapped her wings out and took to the air, diving towards the pulsing life-vein in her once-beloved teacher’s throat.

Rainbow Dash looked at the rest of her friends. “Come on, you guys! She needs us to use the elements of awesome! I mean Majesty! Whatever!”

“Help!?” Rarity raised a foreleg to her keytar. Her hoof was too large to mash any fewer than three keys at once. “We don’t even have the slightest clue how to play these instruments! How are we supposed to—”

“Are you ready for this, Ponyville?” Pinkie Pie called out, her voice amplified a hundred times over by the monolithic speakers behind them. “We are The Mane Six and we are here to rock on with our socks on!”

Applejack clacked her drumsticks together. “One-two-three-four!”

They slammed their hooves against their instruments out of pure instinct, without the slightest hesitation. Applejack’s relentless drumming served as the foundation that carried the others along, and Pinkie Pie’s crystal clear voice shattered the air above Ponyville. Floodlights lit up the sky for miles, and the grey, lifeless ponies below looked up in awe.

As the music thundered across the world for miles in every direction, the princess of light whirled and cavorted through the air with the princess of oppression.

A lone figure trudged along the dirt road that led to Ponyville’s borders, protected from the weather by a starry-patterned cloak and a conical, wide-brimmed hat. The exhaustion in her legs merely drove her onward with greater intensity. She had long since learned to make effective use of her burning desire for revenge.

Something heavy landed behind her and she turned to see a gryphon emerge from the shadowy wall of trees. She crossed her taloned forelegs, currently clad in silvery gauntlets encrusted with glowing gems and engraved with runic symbols. “What took you so long?”

The mare removed her conical hat and tossed her mane aside. “Trixie arrives when she wishes to arrive. Not when she is summoned. Regardless, you would do well to remember that it was Trixie who summoned you here in the first place.”

“So you think that makes you the boss of me, huh? We need to get one thing straight. Nobody bosses Gilda around. Not twice.”

“Ooooh,” Trixie said, rolling her eyes in mock fear. “Have you forgotten that Trixie is a wizard without compare? What are you going to do? Peck me to death?”

“You know what? I just might.” The Gryphon slammed a fist into her open palm, and the gauntlets crackled with energy. “I’ve been thinking... if these fancy toys were built to defeat magical creatures, then whaddya think they’ll do to you?”

She arched one eyebrow. “Trixie was the one who helped you find the Claws of the Basilisk in the first place. Why would Trixie do this unless she also knew the secret password to deactivate them?”

Gilda glowered at her. “You’re bluffing. I can smell it on you.”

“You’re welcome to test that little theory.”

“Enough of this pointless squabbling!” They both turned as a chitinous, black pony fluttered down through the foliage. Her eyes were the eyes of a snake; her wings, the wings of an insect. “I’ve already debased myself by agreeing to work alongside two lowly thugs such as yourself. Do not give me cause to regret my decision.”

“Lowly?” Trixie tossed her mane again. “Without the great and powerful Trixie, neither of you would even be here! There is nothing lowly about Trixie.”

The insectoid queen shimmered with an aura of viridian bale-fire as she changed into a perfect duplicate of Trixie. “Ooh, look at me! My pitiful bag of cheap parlour tricks doesn’t stand a chance of showing up my rival! I’d better beg for help from anyone who will listen to my humiliating sob story!”

Trixie let out an indignant gasp. “Begging!?”

“That’s exactly how I remember it. When you found me, you begged me for help.” She leaned close, fangs glistening. “Begged... like a dog.”

Trixie met her gaze. “But Trixie did find you. And it was at a time when you really didn’t want to be found. Your pathetic changeling glamour can’t hide you from Trixie, and I’m sure there are plenty of people who would love to have that sort of information... you’ve made an awful lot of enemies.”

The queen glared at her, but said nothing.

“There’s only one enemy we need to worry about now,” Trixie continued, “and as soon as we reach Ponyville, she’ll be out of the picture... for good.”

Gilda snorted at her. “Just make sure nobody knows I was involved, got it? If you wuss out on that part of the deal, you won’t live to regret it.”

“Don’t worry,” Trixie said, “nopony will ever know that any of us were ever here. Once we’re done, Rainbow Dash will have one less reason to stay in Ponyville.”

Gilda’s hand snapped out with lightning quickness and grabbed Trixie’s neck, hoisting her up and pressing her against the trunk of a nearby tree. Trixie scrabbled at her gauntleted forearms, and her lower legs dangled a foot off the ground.

“Don’t pretend to know why I’m doing this,” Gilda sneered “I have my reasons!”

“Rainbow Dash, did you say?”

Gilda gasped as the Queen took on the form of a familiar, rainbow-maned pegasus.

“Did she look like this, by any chance?”

“Stop it, you freak! Stop it right now!”

She leaned close with a sultry look. “Oh, but you must miss her so. Her voice, her smile... her caress!”

Gilda dropped Trixie and staggered back. “It’s... it’s not like that at all! Don’t be gross!”

“Oh, I know it isn’t ‘like that’ between you... but rumors do travel quickly, don’t they?” The false Dash stepped closer with an ugly snarl that the original Dash never would have worn. “If you even think about betraying either of us, your reputation will be utterly ruined. Or at least, more-so than it already is.”

Gilda locked eyes with her for a moment.

Trixie stood up and adjusted her conical hat. “I think we understand each other now.”

“Then let us get this over with,” the Queen said. “This particular bit of unfinished business has been a long time coming.”

The three conspirators walked over the next hill and came to the open fields around Ponyville. The grey rooftops were lit by the sharp orange glow of sunset, and a single black spire reached up from the center of town to pierce the clouds.

“Trixie doesn’t remember Ponyville looking like this... not at all.”

“Sunset?” Gilda lifted her wrist and glanced at a watch wrapped around her gauntlet. “Wasn’t it noon a minute ago?”

A deafening blast of music thundered out from the village, and the clouds over ponyville burst away from the central tower: with the sky now clear for over a mile in every direction, they could see two bolts of light dancing through the air and leaving behind yellow and purple ribbons that swirled around each other in spirals and knots. A shockwave of destructive power spread out whenever they collided.

“Too long have I languished under your tutelage!” a terrible voice called out, clearly audible over the booming, energetic music. “Whenever I stood ready to make real scientific progress, you were always there to deter me! To distract me with some worthless lesson about life or morality!”

A second voice responded, beautiful and resonant, “Those are the only lessons that truly matter! How can you use your knowledge to better the world if you refuse to open up to it?”

“I have no further need of your pointless, emotional drivel! Come closer, little Princess... I have something for you!”

The purple streak arced up high and ripped open a hole in the sky itself, filled with a starry night sky: a swarm of tiny lights poured through and rapidly grew in size as they fell. The golden ribbon swerved and weaved through the heavy shower of razor-sharp comets, and the ground below was bludgeoned with hailstones the size of whole houses.

Gilda cocked her head and squinted her hawk-eyes at the distant conflict. “Is that... Twilight Sparkle? Fighting princess Celestia?”

“It... might be,” the queen said.

“It might not be,” said Trixie. “I mean, it’s so hard to tell at this distance.”

“This ends today, Twilight Sparkle! I, Princess Celestia, so swear it!”

“Enough talk,” roared Twilight Sparkle. “Let’s fight!”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. So maybe it is.”

Gilda scratched the back of her neck. “So, do you think we should—”

Twilight Sparkle let out an ear-splitting shriek of pure, unmitigated rage and slammed into Celestia hard enough to send them both hurtling downwards. They struck the ground together with an otherworldly, cosmic force that quaked everything in sight and beyond: the surface of the entire world shuddered and tilted wildly off kilter, like a cymbal being struck, and the three conspirators fell to the ground. The sun and moon whirled around the planet a total of seven times in as many seconds before settling back into place at high noon. Celestia flew up in an attempt to draw power from the sun itself.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Twilight shouted. She kicked at the surface of the world and sent it spinning once more, then held it in place to ensure the sun and moon settled on exact opposite ends of the horizon. “There is no day or night in ponyville: only the very edge of Twilight! And soon, all of Equestria will be the same!”

Trixie, Gilda and Chrysalis watched, slack jawed, as Twilight and Celestia wrestled for control over the motion of the heavenly bodies. A constant swarm of icy comets and cosmic rays rained down upon the surface of the world. A solar prominence arced out from the sun and brushed the atmosphere with a wave of superheated plasma that was thicker than the diameter of the planet itself. A trail of tiny black holes popped into being like a string of firecrackers, ripping chunks of the city into the sky and crushing entire city blocks to powder. The stars in the night sky above scattered about like a bag of marbles carelessly spilled on the floor, their ancient constellations ruined.

“I know a pizza place,” Gilda said. “My treat?’

“Trixie would love a veggie pizza right now. Olives, alfredo sauce...”

“I’d love to eat your love of eating a vegetarian pizza right now. Are you cool with that?”

Gilda glanced at the wrist of her gauntlet and tapped her wrist watch. “Right, well. They close in half an hour, so—”

Trixie’s horn glowed and an glowing circular pattern appeared underneath them. “Greater circle of teleportation, anypony?”

Chrysalis and Gilda immediately huddled up on either side of her.

Rainbow Dash slammed a hoof against the six strings of her cosmic guitar and ran her other hoof up and down the neck with blinding speed. The barrage of hot licks shredded the air around her: it should have liquefied the very flesh from her bones, but instead it suffused her soul. This was rock and roll in it’s purest, most primal form... and it was the only thing protecting them from the barrage of forces currently wracking the sky. The music had rendered them utterly indestructible, but it also made it impossible for them to intervene in the battle directly.

“I dunno how much longer I can keep going!” shouted Applejack.

“If we give up,” Dash called back, “we can kiss Ponyville goodbye!”

“Please, no more!” Fluttershy cried. “I can’t feel my hooves!”

“How does this even work!?” Rarity shouted. “I don’t have the slightest clue how to play a keyboard or a guitar! How am I playing both at the same time!?”

“Just roll with it!” Dash shouted. She slammed the strings and wiggled the whammy bar as fast as she could: a stream of rainbow light cascaded out of the speakers and surged into the sky, where Princess Celestia spread her wings and harnessed the awesome power chord for her own purposes.

“Pinkie Pie!” The princess called down. “Give me two more doo-wops and a shoo-be-doo!”

“You got it!”

I can’t believe she’s still singing, Rainbow Dash thought. It’s been half an hour, and she hasn’t even had a glass of water. What a machine!

“You pitiful little fools!” Twilight’s roar was furious, but cracked with emotion. “Do you really think... this will work!? I care... nothing for this! Nothing!!”

“Is she crying?”

“It sounds like she’s about to,” Rarity said. “This was the song they played at Twilight’s graduation party. She’d earned the highest mark in her class, but she knew she’d be moving out of her parents house the next day... she’d be living all alone in a strange city.”

“Whoa. Talk about a tear-jerker.”

“That’s nothing,” said Applejack. “The last song was the one she just happened to be listening to when her parents told her they were getting a divorce.”

“What!?”

“They never actually got one. They lived apart for a month and then decided they still loved each other. Twi said it was the worst time of her life.”

Dash stared up at the battle in the sky. “Now that’s just fighting dirty.”

“What other kind of fighting is there?” said Fluttershy. “It’s an ugly business no matter how you go about it.”

There was a final, savage scream, and Nightmare Twilight spread her wings wide. The feathers of her wings burst away from her like a swarm of insects and surrounded Celestia with a maelstrom of dark, deadly razors. The barrage distracted her for only an instant, but it was enough for Twilight to plummet onto her from above, wingless, and send her crashing to the ground. The feathers reintegrated themselves with Twilight’s body as she fell, but not quickly enough to save her entirely: the two of them struck the ground at the same time, not far apart.

The stage fell silent as the Mane Six finally ceased their playing. They peered down from the stage, trying to make sense of what they’d seen. Was it over? Which of them had won? Or had they all lost?

Rainbow Dash threw her guitar aside and leapt off the balcony. Fluttershy followed close behind and the others rushed inside the building, searching through the maze for a way down.

Princess Celestia opened her eyes and struggled to pierce the fog of pain and exhaustion. She was lying on her side on what felt like tilled freshly earth. At least one of her legs was broken and most of her body throbbed with bruises and cuts. Either the music had stopped, or she’d somehow been rendered deaf. Her heartbeat thumped in her ears, rhythmic and steady, growing louder by the second.

No... it wasn’t her heartbeat. Her vision focused slightly: she was lying in the center of an earthen crater, covered in dust and loose soil. The thumping came from somewhere else. She could just barely make out a tall, shadowy figure walking towards her in time with the rhythm.

Nightmare Twilight stepped into the crater and gazed down at her for a moment, the frames of her glasses glinting. The golden light from her own tiara was faded and weak now, incapable of scattering the shadows that clung to Twilight’s coat and mane like cobwebs.

Twilight set a steel-shod hoof on Celestia’s neck and peered down at her.

“Long live the princess.”

“There—” Celestia coughed once, filling her mouth with the taste of blood. “There ain’t no way... you could rule... in my place...”

“Ain’t!?” Twilight’s dark, empty eyes squinted with savage fury. “You dare utter that vile abomination of a word!? I cannot believe I was going to let you grovel for mercy!”

Celestia gazed up at her, softly. “How could you have forgotten, my student? These rules have never been set in stone. Language changes over time, as ponies find new ways to communicate. But you’ve mistaken these guidelines for laws. You’ve forgotten what language is truly about!”

Twilight sneered down at her. “No! ‘About’ is a preposition! How dare you end a sentence with a—”

“There is no rule that forbids one from ending a sentence with a preposition!” Celestia’s raspy voice regained a touch of its former iron. “Your attempt to utterly enslave your would-be subjects is an act of tyranny, most dire!”

Twilight stepped back in shock, pulling her hoof away from her neck. “To utterly enslave...? You would split an infinitive in my presence!?”

Celestia struggled to right herself, and propped herself up on her front legs. “You sought to rule with reason, Twilight. But you’ve cast aside all true sense in favour of this false meaning!”

“No, you... you can’t start a sentence... with ‘but’ or ‘and’! It’s... impossible! Impossible!” Twilight charged ahead, horn lowered, blind with rage. “Do you hear me? Impossible!”

Celestia rose to her feet just as the distance between them closed. She wove her head to one side by the thinnest margin and their horns locked together, their faces pressed close. Twilight pushed against her, but Celestia stood firm and unyielding. Her eyes burned with limitless power.

“Nothing is impossible!”

Twilight’s eyes widened, and she staggered back. ‘Nothing’ and ‘impossible’ are both negatives... how can this be? How can a sentence contain a double negative, and yet possess perfect clarity!? I... I was... wrong!

Twilight watched as Celestia’s horn transfused itself into a lance of cleansing fire: a sliver of the sacred, all consuming fusion at the heart of the sun itself. A tear-streaked smile spread across her face and profound joy permeated her entire being, washing away her aches and sorrows.

At last... I was wrong!

The conflagration burned away every imperfection and impurity, leaving no part of her body, mind or soul unscathed... but not even the needle-thin jet of pure, ionized plasma could wash the smile from her face.

The five former friends charged through the smoldering, scattered wreckage of Ponyville, searching for any sign of the combatants. There were plenty of survivors peeking out of doors and windows or wandering through the streets in an even greater daze than before. In fact, there were no civilian casualties in sight: Celestia had probably limited her full power out of a desire to safeguard the innocent. If so, she had been astonishingly effective... or freakishly lucky.

“Are you sure this is where they went down?” Applejack said.

“Hold on!” Rainbow Dash flew straight up and looked around. It was hard to see anything through all the toppled buildings, fractured tectonic plates, and molten meteor craters, but she managed to catch sight of a brief, purple glint.

“Over there, quick!”

Rainbow Dash pointed the way and they continued at an all-out gallop. She sped around a corner and saw Celestia and Twilight standing toe to toe. Dash’s throat clenched as Twilight charged ahead, horn lowered for a killing blow.

“No!”

She shot ahead of her friends and skimmed low over the ground, desperate to intercept the final strike. At the halfway point, Celestia’s horn strobed brighter than anything Dash had ever seen before: a white-hot beam shot straight out and pierced the length of Nightmare Twilight’s body. The beam carried on for a quarter of a mile behind her, igniting the atmosphere with a cone of white fire.

The silhouette of Twilight’s body was instantly vaporized by the heat... but something in the center of that shape was hurled backwards by the force, leaving the outer shell to crumble into flecks. The fire and light vanished quickly, leaving only the stench of burning magnesium and a long, wide patch of rippling, molten glass on the ground. Rainbow Dash skidded to a halt nearby, numbly watching the blackened mist that hung in the air.

“Twi...?”

Dash’s ears pricked up as she heard a hacking cough from inside the mist. As she watched, Twilight Sparkle—alive and whole—stumbled out of the fog.

“Twilight? Is that... you?”

She staggered over, dizzily, and stared at Dash. “I was... wrong!”

“You were?” Dash leaned back, warily. “Are you sure you’re Twilight?”

“No, I mean I was really wrong! I was the wrongest pony in the history of the entire world! I see it now... it’s so obvious to me!”

The rest of her friends rushed over, but rainbow Dash held them back. “Yeah... yeah, it’s defenitely not her.”

Applejack watched her sway back and forth, dizzily. “Are you all right there, sugarcube?”

“I feel great!” Twilight hopped in place, shaking each of her legs one at a time. She stretched her back and took a long, deep breath. “I feel fantastic for the first time all week! This is amazing! Do you guys wanna go skiing? I could totally ski a mile!”

The five friends rushed over and hugged her tight, laughing with joy. They danced around in a circle together and finally fell to the ground, rolling with laughter.

A deep and sinister hum of dark magic put an abrupt end to their frolicking. The black mist cleared away, revealing a twisting vortex of shadow and rippling air. It pulsated and writhed above them, filling the air with a warbling vibration that was just beyond the edge of hearing.

Rarity stared up at the nexus. “What is that horrid thing?”

“I can see somethin’ inside of it,” Applejack said. “It almost looks like a mare...”

Fluttershy let out a tiny gasp. “And it looks like it’s trying to get out!”

Twilight set her jaw. “The princess couldn’t destroy the Nightmare... not completely. She could only separate us.”

Rainbow Dash pointed up at the abomination. “Well then how do we get rid of it for good? There has to be a way!”

Twilight shook her head. “They can’t be destroyed. They’re pure nonexistence. But I was the one who brought it here... and I’m the one who has to send it back.”

“Can you do that?” said Fluttershy.

Twilight smiled at all of them. “Of course I can. I have my friends with me: I can do anything!”

The others gathered all around her in a circle, proud and resolute. Twilight raised her horn to the sky, and the vortex’s writhing quicked. A great orb of purple light shone above them all, struggling to contain the evil force. Twilight’s magical power always seemed to be strongest when others were in danger, and stronger still when her friends were there to support her... but this vile, malefic parasite had gone through unimaginable lengths to reach their world, and it most certainly did not wish to leave.

Twilight scrunched her eyes shut and clenched her teeth. “I was wrong! You hear me? I was wrong!”

The purple orb tightened around the nexus and became slightly more opaque.

“I was wrong about my friends: they never hated me! I was wrong about my homework assignment, I was wrong about myself, and most of all... I was wrong about you!”

The magical spell surged with power and encircled the nexus entirely. The orb shrank and shrank until it was nothing but a tiny dot, barely a speck. And then it was gone.

Her friends gathered close as she stared at the sky above.

“Where did it go?” said Pinkie Pie.

“Away,” Twilight whispered. “I sent it as far as I could. It could be anywhere... but it’s not here. That’s all that matters.”

“Anywhere, huh?” Rainbow Dash grinned at her. “I guess we’ll never know for sure.”

“Yeah,” Twilight said with a faint smile of her own. “We’ll never know for sure.”

“Eyup,” Applejack said, “We’ll never know for sure!”

Twilight frowned at her “Yes, that’s what I said. We’ll never know for sure.”

“Indeed,” Rarity said, “We’ll never know for—”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Okay, you guys, jeez! Would you just let it go already?”

The six friends gazed up at the sky, quietly.

“It’s over,” she said. “It’s really, finally over. Everything I did... everything I said... I feel so horrible about it. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Aw shucks! You know we can’t stay mad at you forever.”

“No I’m serious, girls.” Twilight sat upright and looked at them all. “I was wrong about everything, and every single one of you was right about everything. I can’t believe all those things I said... I don’t deserve to have such good friends!”

Rainbow Dash gave her a gentle, playful kick on the chin. “Well too bad. You’re stuck with us for good!”

Twilight smiled and turned around. “You’re right. It all turned out okay in the end, and that’s all that really—ay-ay-aieeee!!”

She froze in her tracks as she came face to face with princess Celestia, crouching on the ground beside her. Her eyes—unfocused and bloodshot, with tiny dots for pupils—stared straight ahead in naked shell-shock. Her pure-white coat was covered in hundreds of tiny cuts and ugly purple bruises, all filthy with mud and dirt. Her upper and lower lips were both split in the same place and a rivulet of gummy blood trickled down from her forehead and over her eye. Her regal garments were a complete and utter shambles: all of the peaks of her royal crown were either bent or broken off, and all but one of her golden anklets were missing.

“...Princess?”

Twilight waved a hoof in front of Celestia’s face. She offered no response.

“Okay, it’s not as bad as it looks. Really. Let’s just...” Twilight used her magic to try and straighten out her crown. A slight crack shot through the side of Celestia’s horn and the very tip broke off and fell to the ground.

“Oh my! Oh dear! We, uh... we should probably... move her somewhere comfortable.”

All five of her friends stared at her, aghast.

“Well let’s go, then!” Twilight said. “This princess isn’t going to move herself, is she?”

Applejack and Rainbow Dash cautiously walked to either side of the wounded monarch and gently pressed their shoulders against her. The first gentle shove produced no useful results.

“Jeez, she weighs a ton!” said Dash.

“Well, push harder! And remember to lift with all four knees at once.”

They pushed harder and Celestia sprang to life, thrashing about in a moment of panic. She fell on her side and landed on top of Rainbow Dash, pinning her to the ground. All they could see of her was one of her legs, frantically waving for a rescue. Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie rushed to her side and struggled to push the Princess upright again.

“I’m kind of a little disappointed in you, Twilight,” the princess said. Her voice was ragged and uneven.

“Princess? It’s me, Fluttershy!”

“Oh.” The princess turned to her left. “I’m kind of a little disappointed in you, Twilight.”

“I’m Applejack.”

“Oh.” The princess turned to her right. “I’m kind of a little disappointed in you, Twilight.”

“Princess, it’s me, Fluttershy. Again.”

Celestia’s head wobbled side to side. “...I need a cigarette.”

Fluttershy looked up at her in confusion. “A what?”

“...I mean tea. I need a cup of tea.” She looked around, her neck wobbling. “Spring Fresh? Is it tea time yet?”

Rainbow Dash’s one free leg thrashed about frantically and her muffled shouting grew louder. They rushed to Celestia’s side and prepared to hoist her up together.

Applejack glanced up. “Whoa there, girls... I think we got company.”

Twilight looked up and gasped as she saw a ring of grey ponies gathering around them. They climbed over the wreckage and ambled down the streets, staring at Twilight in wide-eyed bewilderment.

“What happened?” one of them whispered. “What’s going on?”

Twilight cleared her throat and raised her voice. “It’s all over, ponies. You’re free now!”

“Free from what?”

“All that wicked mare of darkness stuff: It’s over now. You can all go home.”

“We don’t have homes anymore,” a stallion called out.

“Right... that. Well it’s now safe to start rebuilding your homes. That’s something, right?”

“Can’t you just give us new homes?” one of them called out.

“And roads, too!” said another. “Your roads were better than anything we could make on our own!”

The crowd closed in a little as ponies began calling out for new homes. Twilight reared up and waved her front legs. “Ponies, please! You need to be self sufficient now! You have to lead your own lives!”

“How do we do that?”

Twilight sighed. “I can’t tell you how to lead your own lives. That would defeat the purpose.”

“But you were really good at it!” a young mare said. “We had lots of food and clothes, the houses were better, the jobs were easier...”

“The hospital was bigger and better than ever!”

“And school grades were higher than ever before! Your educational system was the best that Equestria’s ever had, and my kids actually enjoyed it.”

“And the trains,” somepony else said. “The trains were actually running on time for once. That’s never happened before!”

“Are you crazy!?” Twilight shouted, “you were enslaved by a totalitarian government! You were robbed of your free will!”

There was an awkward silence.

“Well at least the trains were on time,” somepony called out. The rest of the crowd murmured it’s assent.

Twilight sighed and turned back to her friends. “Just ignore them.”

It took them half an hour to move Princess Celestia somewhere safe and comfortable. The Ponyville public library was still a horrific black tower of iron and obsidian, utterly bereft of even the most fundamental luxury or convenience, so they carried her an extra block to Sugarcube corner. Half the building had been crushed by an errant meteor but the kitchen was still in working order. They took her to the front foyer, gathered up a heap of half-burnt couch cushions, and set her down.

Twilight closed the door behind them and looked out through the broken window at the crowd of grey ponies gathered around the building. They were chanting slogans and holding up signs: ‘Finish What You Started,’ ‘Food On Every Table, A Bookshelf In Every Home,’ ‘Let Us Choose Our Princess,’ ‘At least The Trains Were On Time,’ ‘Down With Tyrant Celestia.’

Twilight Rolled her eyes. “Pinkie Pie? Go to the kitchen and see if you can—”

“We need you, Princess Twilight!” A voice called from outside. “Rule us with an iron hoof! You have to!”

“We can’t govern ourselves!” another voice shouted. “We’re just no good at it!”

“No!” Twilight shouted back. “Get off the lawn!”

The crowd began chanting over and over, waving their signs. “Bring back Nightmare Twilight! Bring back Nightmare Twilight!”

Twilight groaned and yanked a cord by the window frame, dropping a set of opaque venetian blinds with a loud rattle. She pointed at Pinkie Pie. “Go to the kitchen and see if you can salvage some tea. She’s going to need it.”

“I’ll do my best,” she said as she turned to go, “but there’s really not much left.”

Rarity came in from the hallway with a box of paper tissues. “Here you go, Fluttershy. See if you can get her cleaned up a bit.”

Fluttershy stared at the box. “Why me?”

“Well you’re the caregiver. And out of the six of us, you have the most medical training.”

“Medical training!? I’m a veterinarian! You can’t expect me operate on a pony!”

“You know anything at all about medicine. That means you know more than the rest of us put together.”

Fluttershy took the box and began dabbing tissues at the Princess’s numerous cuts. “I’m gonna need some clean water. And some iodine.”

Pinkie Pie came in from the kitchen pushing a tea-trolley loaded with a battered kettle and a set of chipped tea cups. “All done! The pantry cabinet got knocked over, so I had to scrape some loose tea off the floor. There wasn’t much, so I threw some basil in. That’s sort of like tea, right? Also, I’m not gonna lie to you... I couldn’t find any filters so I had to use a pair of diapers from the twin’s room. They’re totally clean, I promise! Never been used!”

Celestia continued to sit on the cushions, bolt upright and staring straight ahead, shell-shocked. She said nothing, but her tiny pupils slowly turned to the tea-trolley.

“Here you go! Fresh, and piping... well, it’s piping lukewarm.” Pinkie Pie poured her a cup of tea and added two heaping helpings of sugar. “I’ll make it extra sweet, because you’re an extra sweet princess!”

The princess stared at the cup for some time. Her horn glowed and an aura of magic lifted the cup to her lips. She sipped and immediately sputtered, letting the liquid dribble out of her mouth and down her chin.

“What’s wrong? Isn’t it sweet enough?” Pinkie Pie glanced at the sugar bowl and gasped. “Salt!? So sorry! I must have used the wrong bag!”

The princess dabbed her tongue against her mouth, trying to clean the salty liquid out of the bloody split in her lower lip. The six friends sat in a semicircle in front of her and waited patiently. She opened her mouth several times, but never actually spoke.

Twilight softly cleared her throat. “Princess? I’d just like to say... that I want you to know... that this isn’t entirely your fault.”

Celestia’s neck trembled slightly and the blurry daze lifted from her eyes. She continued to stare straight ahead, but much more intensely.

“I mean it, really... that homework assignment you gave me was a real doozy, but I don’t want you to blame yourself. It was just—”

“Children,” said Celestia.

“Pardon?”

“I wanted you to make a failsafe spell... for children. Young and inexperienced unicorns. It was meant to safeguard against beginner mistakes. The most elementary accidents imaginable.”

“What, seriously?” Twilight immediately brightened up. “Well why didn’t you just say so? I could have had that done in an hour!”

“I know,” Celestia said. “I gave you this assignment as an excuse to give you the week off. I was worried you were overworking yourself. Taking your duties too seriously.”

“Oh... really? Well, that was... nice of you.”

There was a long silence.

“Well it wasn’t a total waste,” she said. “I went hang-gliding! That was really fun!”

“I’m very happy for you,” Celestia said as she wiped the blood away from her eye. “Why didn’t you tell me about this? Why didn’t you send me a letter and ask for clarification? Or an extension? Or advice? It would have taken you less than a minute to sort this out.”

“Oh, well I didn’t want to... inconvenience you.”

There was another long silence.

“But it wasn’t just that: I had other reasons!”

“What other reasons?”

“Well, I was worried the failsafe spell was meant for me. I was worried that you were worried that I was using my magic... ah... irresponsibly.”

They paused to look at the half-demolished building around them.

“So,” Twilight said. “No worries, then?”

Celestia turned, very slowly, to look at her.

“I know what would cheer you up!” said Pinkie Pie. “A friendship report!”

“Right!” Twilight said. “Cause oh boy did we learn a lot about friendship!”

“And that’s the most important thing in the world, right?” said Pinkie Pie. “As long as we learned something new about friendship, it was all worthwhile!”

Applejack leaned closer to Twilight. “What lesson was that, exactly?”

“The thing with the... that you should never...”

“Accepting help from others!” said Rarity. “We learned that you should be willing to let others help you out!”

Applejack shook her head. “Hold on a minute. Didn’t we already learn that one during applebuck season?”

“Well, then,” said Twilight, “we learned that you should always listen to your friends even when you think they don’t make sense. If I’d listened to Fluttershy back then, none of this would have—”

“Actually, we learned that one too,” said Pinkie Pie. “Remember when the swarm of parasprites took over Ponyville?”

“The what?” Celestia said, blandly.

“Ixnay on the arapay-itespray!” Twilight hissed.

Pinkie Pie nodded. “Oh, that’s right! She actually never found out about—” Rainbow Dash cut her off with a jab of her elbow.

“Well... all right then. I learned... that... um... I could have saved us all a whole lot of trouble if I’d just sent you a letter and told you what was going on.”

“Like with Philomena?” Fluttershy said.

Twilight shot her a stern look.

“Just saying.”

“Okay. Princess Celestia. I’m going to be completely and totally honest with you.”  Twilight took a deep breath. “We learned absolutely nothing about friendship this week. But you specifically told me that I didn’t have to send you a report unless and until I learned something new.”

“Hey, that’s right!” Rainbow Dash said. “She totally said that! That means she can’t punish you!”

Celestia uttered a feeble, involuntary laugh. “I can’t punish you,” she said softly.

“Right,” said Twilight. “So... are we cool? We’re cool, right?”

Celestia laughed harder and the others joined in, tentatively at first. The Princess was soon rocking back and forth, trying to keep the laughter in.

“Right, right... of course I can’t punish you!”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “And even if you could, it was Twilight that actually did all of this. Not us.”

“Oh yes,” Rarity said. “We were the victims in all this! It’s not like you can punish the rest of us for something that wasn’t our fault!”

Celestia scrunched her eyes shut and blew a raspberry, unable to keep the laughter contained. “You’re totally right! I can’t punish all the rest of you!”

“You know,” Twilight said, “we did sort of help you save the world from... myself. That’s gotta be worth something, right?”

“Yeah!” Dash said. “You should totally reward us!”

“Ooooh-hoo-hoo!” Celestia pointed at Dash. “I should reward you!”

Everypony began laughing uproariously without knowing why. All of a sudden, Celestia slammed a hoof on the floor: her face twisted with rage and the laughter ended immediately.

“Just what the hell do you think this is!? A saturday morning cartoon for little girls!?”

The mane six sat bolt upright as Celestia snorted with righteous anger. Her breath was rough and heaving and her eyelids twitched erratically.

“Princess, please, be careful!” Fluttershy reached over and dabbed a paper napkin against her face but she waved her away sharply. Fluttershy retreated, leaving the napkin stuck to the princess’s cheek.

Twilight’s lower lip trembled and her eyes glistened with tears. “I was only trying to help.”

“Twilight Sparkle, my most faith... my student. I am not going to punish you.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Instead, I am going to do you a favor.”

“You are?”

“Indeed. Since you seem to be having so much trouble with the assignment I gave you, I’ve decided to help you complete it. You still have the original failsafe spell, don’t you?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“And all you have left to do is test it under unpredictable, stressful circumstances?”

Twilight bit her bottom lip. “I suppose.”

“Unfortunately, you’re so skilled with magic that there are no circumstances that can possibly distract you enough to test the spell. You couldn’t think of anything distracting enough, or unpredictable enough, or stressful enough.”

“That’s sort of how it went, yes.”

Celestia stood up, firm and resolute, and glowered down at her.

“I think I can come up with something... just for you.”

Twilight leaned back, eyes darting between her friends.

Next Chapter: %i%: A few loose ends to tidy up. Estimated time remaining: 30 Minutes