Twilight found herself in the forest of black trees and white earth. This time however, she was immediately standing on the silver trail. With a snort, Twilight surveyed her surroundings for any sign of the color green.

“Well, you brought me here, there’s got to be something you want to tell me,” Twilight shouted at the trees.

The Goodfellow’s laugh echoed throughout the forest, sending a chill down Twilight’s spine. “Not exactly the patient type, are you?”

“Why won’t you leave me alone? What do you want from me?” Twilight shouted.

“What do I want?” A bright green flame erupted in front of Twilight, blinding her. She flinched and backed away, keeping her eyes shut until the light faded. When she looked back, the tall, emerald hooded figure of the Goodfellow stood in front of her, its tendrils dangling freely at the ends of its arms. It bowed and said playfully, “I merely want to talk.”

The Goodfellow raised its arm, and snapped two of its tendrils. The area around them blurred and twisted, becoming a swirling mesh of black and white. Almost immediately it began to change into new colors, reforming into what looked like some kind of sitting room. There was a small, triangular table at the center of the room, and several lime colored chairs placed around the walls.

While Twilight was still disoriented from the sudden change in location, the Goodfellow pulled two chairs on either side of the small table.

“Have a seat, your Majesty,” The Goodfellow said, gesturing to one of the chairs. “I will be happy to answer any of your questions. Would you like any tea?”

Twilight stared at the hooded figure, her mind struggling to process what was going on.

“I can fetch some scones, if it would make you more comfortable,” the Goodfellow offered.

“Alright,” Twilight said dully. She sat down in the seat opposite the Goodfellow, took the small cup It offered her, and set it down for easy access. With a wave of its arm, the Goodfellow conjured up a plate of cinnamon scones that had frosting glazed across them in a spider web pattern.

“Well then, now that we are comfortable, is there anything you would like answered?”

Twilight scooted a scone near her and took a small bite out of it. With it, all of Twilight’s uncertainty seemed to melt away.

“Several things,” Twilight said. Then, after thinking for a moment, she asked, “First off, why are you so interested in telling me things now?”

The Goodfellow chuckled, the dissonance between its feminine laughter and its masculine speaking voice sent a shiver down Twilight’s spine. “Because the pieces are about to fall into place, and I know longer need to keep you in the dark.”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Do you think it’s any coincidence that I’ve been watching you?” The Goodfellow asked.

Twilight shook her head. Given the bizarre nature of Sleipnir and both her friends’ and her own problems, the Goodfellow’s stalking seemed largely incidental at the time.

“I had just assumed that you were a figment of my imagination,” Twilight answered, “until…”

“Until I possessed you those few nights ago?” The Goodfellow interjected. “My apologies for that, but you were dying of venom and I have need of you.” It picked up a scone and tossed it into the void within its hood, where it seemed to dissolve it in the darkness.

“For what?” Twilight asked, taking a sip of the tea.

“Do you remember our first meeting?” The Goodfellow asked.

“You took me into this a weird forest and recited a weird poem. What about it?”

“Oh dear, it seems we’re a bit behind schedule with your memories. Here, let’s speed up the process.” The Goodfellow extended a long tendril and touched Twilight’s forehead. A sharp, icy pain shot through her head from where the Goodfellow touched it. Her eyes came unfocused, the world around her fading into a murky shade of green.

When her eyes refocused, Twilight found herself in a poorly lit dungeon cell. She looked around, dazed. Her cell was a standard Canterlot single prisoner cell; there was enough room for her to pace, but little else, there were no windows, save for the gate that locked her in. The walls were dank and smelled of mildew, bits of slime were visible in places. Her cell was furnished with a single cot, rusty chains dangling from the ceiling, and a toilet that doubled as her sink. She wasn’t chained, but her wings were bound by something.

“Let us see our Mom!” a small colt’s voice echoed down the dungeon hall. Twilight recognized it to be Bunsen.

“For the last time, no!” said another voice, this one belonging to a stallion. “Look kid, I’m under orders from the Princess not to let any pony near the prisoner, and that includes family.”

“But she’s our mother!” a filly’s voice protested, Summerfree to be exact.

“And she’s a princess too,” another filly chimed in, this one was Page, “can’t she just override whatever Celestia ordered?”

Twilight turned her head away from the noise. She was happy that even after finding out what she had done, her children still wanted to see her. Still, Celestia was right for forbidding any pony from seeing her. She didn’t need to be with others, least of all her children. It was bad enough that would be known as the offspring of a monster, they didn’t need to be associated with her any more than they already where. She could only hope that they would be able to live normal lives when all this was over.

“Look kid, your mother committed crimes against ponykind and has been stripped of her title of princess. As far as the law’s concerned, she’s just a unicorn that somehow sprouted wings one day,” The guard paused for a moment, “I’m sorry it has to be this way, but my hooves are tied. I… Look, her trial is in a few days, maybe if you’re lucky you can see her then. Right now, I’m gonna have to ask y’all to leave.”

The sounds of six sets of hooves dragging themselves away echoed throughout the dungeon. Faintly, Twilight could hear the words, ‘Few days, might as well be a few months,’ being grumbled by one of her children. That put a smile on her face, reminding her of the times she would read Daring Doo books to them before bedtime.

Twilight settled herself onto her cot and tried to get into a comfortable position. It didn’t matter if she was found guilty. She wasn’t sure how long multiple life sentences could last for an alicorn, but she decided that it would be worth it if Princess Celestia could find a way to help her friends. That’s all that mattered to her now.

Hours passed, marked only by the routine changing of the guards. Twilight amused herself by trying to come up with and solve new equations. After she had made up about twelve and was working on her thirteenth, the sound of heavy hoof steps echoed down the dungeon hall.

“Well, Twilight Sparkle, what do you have to say for yourself?” asked a cold, almost cruel voice.

Without turning to look at her visitor, Twilight answered, “Anything I have to say, I told you in my letter. What more do you want?”

“What I want is a motive. Usually when a pony goes bad there’s a specific reason. Did you feel unappreciated? Lonely? Or maybe you thought that somehow your actions would lead you to greatness?” The sound of a hoof slamming against the stone floor echoed throughout the dungeon. “Well?”

Twilight shrugged. “I’ve been wondering that myself for several months.”

“That’s not an answer!” Celestia hissed, “Don’t play dumb with me, Twilight Sparkle! I have known you since you were a filly! You don’t do anything for no reason. Now, are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

Twilight said nothing.

A golden light emanated from the halls behind Twilight. Heat radiated from the walls, causing beads of sweat to start forming on Twilight’s brow. Twilight closed her eyes and waited for the magic blast to consume her, but it never came. Instead, loud bang erupted from somewhere down the hall.

“How could you, Twilight?” Celestia asked; her voice was shaking. “After all you’ve been through, all you’ve learned, how could you do this?”

“I don’t know, Princess,” Twilight said quietly, “I had hoped you would be able to give an answer. I hoped you could help me fix my mistake.”

“Mistake?” Celestia asked, her voice flaring with anger. “Is that what you think this is; a mistake?”

“Well, no, Princess,” Twilight said quickly, turning to look the Princess in the eye, “what I meant was-”

“You ruined two innocent lives!” Celestia shouted. It had been the same thing Twilight had been telling herself for months, but coming from the Princess, the words cut into her like daggers.

“It can be undone,” Twilight stuttered, “if you just look at my notes-”

“Your notes?” Celestia snarled, “They’re nothing but nonsense.”

“But-”

“But nothing. I’ll decide what to do with you at your trial. Until then, see if you can’t figure out what the hay was going through your head!” Celestia slammed down a hoof once more and stormed off.

“Wait, come back!” Twilight called, reaching out through the bars. “They can be fixed. They can be fixed!”

But Celestia was gone, and Twilight was all alone. She sat there for a long time, in her cold, dark cell, taking in what her former mentor had told her. She wasn’t even going to try to save Twilight’s friends. All of the work Twilight had done for the past months was for nothing.

Without a second thought, Twilight got up and threw herself at the cell door. She collided with the iron bars uselessly, causing a loud clang of metal striking metal to ring out through the dungeon. Undaunted, Twilight backed up and charged again. And again. And again.

The world swirled around Twilight, and she was running though a forest. Behind her, the earth pony and unicorn guards followed her trail, their hooves beating the dirt road like thunder. Up above, pegasi guards combed the sky, ready to catch her should she try to take to the air.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she had escaped the dungeon, long enough for her to get to a forest, at least. All she could think about was finding out where Celestia had put her friends, and getting them back to her workshop. From there, she could use her notes to try and undo her experiments, and then promptly turn herself in again. The only problem was…

Twilight slowed to a stop at a place where the road split. The problem with her plan was that there would be no way she could get her friends back, much less save them.

Her legs buckled, and she collapsed to the ground. She started to get up, but stopped. There was no point. Even if she did escape, what would it achieve? It would prove that the Equestrian guards couldn’t catch an out of shape, middle aged mother of three, but that wouldn’t help her any.

She had about decided to turn back and deal with the consequences when a dazzling green light suddenly blinded her. She heard a mare’s laughter from somewhere in the distance, seeming to laugh at her.

“Hello?” Twilight called out.

What answered was a voice that was almost like the hiss of kerosene leaking through a lamp.

Without thinking, Twilight answered, “Yes!” As soon as the word escaped her lips, a sharp pain shot through her head, her vision blurred, and the world turned a bright green.

As the pain faded, the green blur shifted into the room where Twilight had been having tea with the Goodfellow. For a moment, Twilight was dazed. Entire years worth of memories rushed into her head like water from a breaking dam. A series of dates, dances, birthday parties, first days at school, and family vacations paraded through her mind at a breakneck pace.

“There now, you should be all caught up with your life,” the Goodfellow said, throwing another scone into its hood, “now we can move on to business.”

Twilight blinked and looked around the room, reorienting herself. “Wait a minute, I have some questions.” Her head throbbed from the sudden influx of information, but she would be damned before she let another mystery show up.

The Goodfellow intertwined its tendrils together and said, “Very well, what do you have on your mind?”

Rubbing her temple with a hoof, Twilight asked, “Why am I just now remembering all this? Why would you erase so many years from my memory?”

The Goodfellow chuckled, “Because when I found you, you where a guilt ridden mess that probably would’ve consigned herself to her cell as soon as she wasn’t being chased by guards, and that would’ve got in the way of my plans.”

“Okay,” Twilight said, her brows furrowing, “what exactly are these plans?”

“Oh, nothing much, I merely wish to destroy Sleipnir,” The Goodfellow said plainly, “Quickly, if possible.”

Twilight nearly fell from her chair. “Destroy Sleipnir?” she asked incredulously, “How? The place is so big that I’ve walked around it for hours in straight line!”

The Goodfellow shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet, but I should have something before you get to that artificial Gate they’ve been using. The only thing I know for sure is that you have to be the one to trigger what I assume is going to be an explosion.”

Twilight snorted. “Okay, why do I have to be the one? Why can’t you?”

The Goodfellow laughed. “Because I have next to no influence over your universe. You see, my brother and I aren’t supposed to be here, neither is that book, or any of the plagues or whatever you creatures call them. When I first came here, I was, in a sense, broken. I couldn’t speak normally, except in poor poetry, and I could only appear before individuals who had come into contact with my brother’s corruption. It was only when I possessed you that I was given a fraction of my true nature, and even then I would only move the laboratory closer to the air lock you were staying in.”

“Alright, I guess that makes sense-” Twilight started to say, then shook her head, “No, actually it doesn’t. What does that have to do with Sleipnir? Why do you want to destroy Sleipnir? And why me?”

“Sleipnir, as it is now, acts as a bridge between worlds, both those clustered in this universe and my own. So long as it exists the worlds can never truly be separated,” The Goodfellow answered, pouring a cup of tea into its hood, “and it’s because of that connection that my brother was able to cross over. And since then, well, you’ve seen the results with your own eyes. Madness, mutation, rampant sexuality, and lots and lots of blood.”

“Wait a minute, do you mean that it’s the Administrator’s fault that the three plagues exist?” Twilight asked.

“Well, they aren’t plagues, but yes,” The Goodfellow chuckled, “Now do you see why it’s so important that we destroy Sleipnir?”

“Right,” Twilight said as yet another question popped into her head, “but you aren’t at full power, how can the Administrator do so much? Shouldn’t he have to work behind some pony else too?”

The Goodfellow shrugged. “I never said he wasn’t. I had a measure of control over your world while you and I shared a body, and I wouldn’t put it past Swahl to do something similar. As for how he made his influence universal, well, I could only guess.”

It slammed its tendrils onto the table and stood up. “I believe that answers all of your questions, save one. The reason I chose you was simple, you were fighting my brother’s influence on you, and you were winning. The struggle was breaking you, yes, but you still resisted nonetheless. That’s more than what most mortals are capable off. With my help, you should be able to fully resist my brother even in a direct confrontation. And the best part is he won’t even be expecting it.” The Goodfellow erupted into a loud cackle. The room started to blur around them, bleeding back into the black and white forest.

Then, without warning, the Goodfellow stopped and said softly, “I’m afraid that this session will have to satisfy your curiosity. Your shuttle is almost at its final stop.” And with that the world dissolved around Twilight.

Author's Notes:

Sorry this chapter took so long. I'm at that state of mind where I have to force myself to write and stop comparing myself to the writers I admire.