The Wind Beneath Her Wings

Timeline: Two Weeks Later

Twilight unclenched her teeth and allowed the quill to drop down and rest upon the notebook below. Its pages were black with ink, covered in a spiderweb of words in a form of cursive that could be most mercifully described as functional. Other books and pads towered around the unicorn, obscuring her view of anything else and letting her pretend nothing more existed.

However, her inkpot had grown dry yet again and she had no choice but to venture forth in search of a replacement. She looked down at the page before her and sighed. The words she had written were beyond almost anybody else's comprehension, and yet they were a shadow of her former work. The tomes piled around her were a combination of what few reference materials from her library remained—the rest having been returned to Canterlot—and the copies of her own notes that Celestia had kept.

It had been the same carriage—a flying carriage, pulled by pegasi. Another reminder of her failed plans—that brought her work to her, and took her books away. Twilight hadn't had the heart to argue, and she knew deep down it was the only choice. She no longer had anywhere to keep trivialities like Slumber Party 101, A Guide to Pegasus Anatomy, or Making Magic: A Filly's Guide to Her Changing Body. Canterlot's library had plenty of room. All she'd managed to negotiate was material directly relating to her work attempting to recreate her research.

There was a knock at the door. Twilight looked up. The room around her was dark, save for her working area, which was illuminated by a simple candle. The windows were shut and the curtains pulled, locking the sunlight outside where it belonged. The door was unlocked, but everybody in town knew not to enter.

“Twilight, darling?” Rarity's voice called, piercing through the silence Twilight had grown familiar with. The scratch of a quill on paper and the sound of a page being turned were the only sounds she had heard recently. “Twilight, may I come in?”

Twilight sighed and pushed her chair back, scraping it along the wooden floorboards. She turned the door's handle with a hoof, and pulled it open. Her face twisted into her best impression of a smile, a facsimile of a grimace. “Hi, Rarity. What's up?”

“I made you some food, dear. I was rather hoping we could eat together.” Rarity smiled. Unlike Twilight's, it seemed honest.

Twilight felt her heart lift a little. She nodded, and then began to walk through to the kitchen with Rarity following alongside. “I'm sorry I haven't been much company lately, Rarity.”

“Oh, I don't blame you, Twilight. Why, I was simply inconsolable last time my prince charming turned out to be anything but-” Rarity paused for effect, as if acting out a play that called for her to be stricken with grief. She fully recovered an instant later- “But I got over it, and now I'm fine. Now, it's not so straightforward here, but-”

Twilight stopped and turned towards her friend, then laid a hoof on her back. “Thanks, Rarity, but that isn't my problem right now. Quite honestly, Dash hasn't even sunk in yet. I still think she'll come back.”

Rarity shook her head. “Oh, I'd skin her alive for what the brute's done to you, Twilight.” She snorted. “Loyalty indeed. It's a wonder we managed to save the kingdom at all.”

“That's just it, Rarity.” Twilight's smile flickered into honesty. “You can't lie about these things. You couldn't not be generous, Pinkie Pie couldn't not be Pinkie Pie. Dash couldn't turn her back on me, she just couldn't.”

“And your magic?”

Twilight's smile faltered and faded back into a fiction. “Well, that- that's different. You know how it is.”

Rarity walked forward, heading towards the kitchen once again. Twilight followed along in silence. Atop the table lay two plates of steaming pasta, decorated with oat-shavings. Twilight smiled. Rarity pulled out her stool and sat down. “I know you like it. Just do try and ignore the burns; I usually order in.”

Twilight walked over to the table and pulled the stool back with a forehoof, then sat. “I don't think I've eaten anything nicer than a daisy sandwich for days!” She reached forward to grab a utensil—a fork, or a spoon, or something. She wasn't entirely sure what earth ponies and pegasi ate this sort of thing with—only to find the space around her bowl was bare. Her smile wavered once more.

She looked up to find Rarity staring at her with a single morsel held in a magic grip. Her eyes flickered down to the food, then off to the side at something off to the side she could pretend was interesting.

“Rarity, I-”

Rarity quickly interrupted. “No, no, I'm sorry. I'll get you something.” With her magic, Rarity opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a set of wooden utensils, which she then presented to Twilight. “I was just hoping you'd try. Just for me, darling?”

Twilight grabbed a fork and plunged it into the meal. “You know it isn't that simple, Rarity,” she said, then grabbed the pasta with her teeth and began to chew.

“Well, no, I rather don't. I've had my fair share of heartbreak, Twilight, but I've never seen anything like this.” She dropped her pasta back onto the pile and leaned forward. “It breaks my heart all over again seeing you like this.”

Twilight shook her head. “I'm okay, Rarity. Well, I'm not that not okay.”

“But your magic, Twilight! It's… Who you are! I myself don't know how I'd manage if I couldn't manage a design.”

Twilight flashed her best attempt at a smile. “It's not like it's gone forever, Rarity. Truth be told, if I tried I could use it, but I can't risk it. It'd be too dangerous and I'd never forgive myself if I did anything to your shop.”

Rarity frowned and tilted her head, then emitted a questioning grunt. “What in Celestia's name are you talking about, dear? I know you wouldn't damage anything, you're my friend!”

“I- Oh, sorry, Rarity. Forgive me, I forget you didn't grow up in Canterlot.” She cleared her throat and closed her eyes, imagining a textbook in front of her—with the original back in the royal library, her memories would have to do. “A Unicorn's Magic is formed of two discrete components. Primarily, there is the horn, which acts as an antenna of sorts and functions to collect and manipulate ambient magical energy. It is for this reason Canterlot was built in its location, centred around a magical hotspot for research. However, in addition to this physical component, the unicorn's mental and emotional status functions to temper the raw energies their body commands. Without a balanced mind, magic can be unwieldy”

Twilight opened her eyes to find Rarity nodding. She continued to nod for several seconds afterwards. Eventually she noticed Twilight had stopped speaking. “I'm afraid you lost me at discrete, Twilight. Could you rephrase that for…” Rarity coughed indignantly. “A less scholarly mare?”

Twilight sighed. “You shouldn't do magic unless you're calm or you might not be able to control it. For most unicorns that means accidentally breaking a plate. For me, it's accidentally breaking a tectonic plate.” She laughed under her breath, but then continued. “I'm exaggerating, of course. I think. Last time I lost control was terrifying and I don't ever want to repeat that.”

Rarity frowned. “I thought you said you were alright?”

Twilight closed her eyes and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and cradling her head in her hooves. “I lied, Rarity. Of course I lied. I've lost my home, my work, my wife; My life. I wake up in the morning and I think the only thing keeping me from breaking down is knowing Dash won't be there to make it better, and I don't know how to manage without that any more. So I can't stop. I have to keep going, because I don't think I can start again if I stop.”

Rarity swallowed nothing and extended a hoof, resting it against Twilight's. “Everybody else is still here for you, Twilight. We may not be her, but we're here.”

Twilight nodded, letting her hooves drop to the desk and opening her eyes. She smiled a thin smile. “I know. I appreciate it, but… You're not her. Nopony else is. I made her promise me once that if I lost control, she'd stop me no matter what it took. No offence, but nobody else could touch me.” Twilight closed her eyes again. “Within a minute of losing control, anything within a hundred meters would be dust. Within three, Ponyville. Within five, me.” She spoke quietly and clinically as if quoting a foregone conclusion from a textbook.

“Twilight!” Rarity pulled back. Her forehead wrinkled in concern. “Don't talk like that!”

“Sorry.” Twilight speared another few pieces of pasta and quietly began to chew. “I hope you understand now, though. I will try again when I feel ready. If I felt like I put any of you in danger, I'd want to be near Celestia or Luna. They'd know what to do, they're always calm.”

Celestia's hoof smacked against the stone cold floor of the throne room. Her metallic horseshoe's clink echoed from the well lit, yet dull walls. From the point of impact, a small cloud of dust and rock-shards emerged, scattering a few feet around her. The sound silenced the functionaries and dignitaries performing their assigned tasks, sharply drawing their attention towards the source of the commotion.

It did not silence Princess Luna. “Sister, this is hardly a debate! Our course of action is as clear as your day.” Luna's mane flowed angrily at her side, whipping around in the air as if controlled by an unfelt gale. The space around her seemed dim, surrounding her in a dark halo as if she cast a shadow away from the gaze of anybody who clapped eyes on her. The other ponies in the room noticeably avoided looking directly at her, though they thought she didn't notice.

The ponies began to leave the room, slowly at first but quickly speeding up until the large double-doors at the far end seemed more like a finishing line for subtly galloping competitors than an inviting pillar of a fair rule. Disagreements between the two as sisters were not unprecedented; as princesses, they were.

“Luna, times have changed. I do not know why you cling to the old ways so, when they drove you to such terrible lows.” Celestia brushed her hoof against the chipped floor, but that was apologetic as she was willing to go. The stones of Canterlot castle were old and had seen worse punishment in their time, but any further damage was still regrettable.

Luna frowned. “This… is not about us, Celestia. This is about the safety of the kingdom—nay, our entire world.” Luna's hoof pointed around the room as she talked as if to underline the point.

Celestia rolled her eyes. “Don't be so dramatic. You have no more reason to believe that than I. Times have changed, Luna—I have changed. I cannot, and will not, interfere with the lives of my subjects unless given reason!” Her hoof twisted, grinding the stone chips down to dust.

Luna snorted, then gritted her teeth. “How is this not sufficient reason? Were this not your prized student you would have done it weeks ago!” The silence that dawned over the room was only amplified by their loneliness; Not a single other pony still stood nearby.

“Perhaps.” Celestia turned and walked over to the window, before staring out across Canterlot. She stood in a pregnant silence, letting the calming view temper her mood. “However, she is. Concessions must be made.”

“Will you be saying that as Canterlot burns?” Luna walked over and stood at an adjacent window, allowing the view to grant her opinions new fire. Pegasi idly hung in the sky, maintaining Canterlot's perfectly architected cloudscape; Unicorns stood in the streets and on the rooftops, going about their daily lives with barely a care in the world.

Celestia snorted. “I see your tendency to overreact has not been tempered with age. There is no need for haste here, sister. This is a delicate situation and we must deal with it carefully.”

The two sisters both stumbled a step to the side as if hit by some invisible force. Outside, the pegasi wavered and flew a little harder to maintain their positions. The unicorns shook their heads to clear some ache. Within moments, everything returned to normalcy.

“No need for haste? The disturbances are getting both more frequent and more dangerous. Our subjects will soon begin to notice, and we are loathe to consider the effects on neighbouring sovereignties. If you will not allow us to force your hoof, political pressure will. I assume we have no need to remind you of our responsibilities?”

“It's not that simple!” Celestia snapped. “You have no experience in these matters, Luna! If I allowed you to take this action it would destroy her.”

Princess Luna laughed, though it was cut short. “Experience in what? Magic, or love? I assure you; despite my time imprisoned I surpass you in both.” Contrary to her statement, Luna's cloak of shadow had dissipated into the light, leaving her seeming almost naked to the sun-goddess's gaze. What would have been a sign of weakness to an enemy was a white flag to a friend.

“In Twilight, Luna. You forget, I have watched her grow, and mature. I have watched her fall in love, and now I am watching her heart break. What you suggest would end her.” Celestia spoke quietly and slowly, choosing her words carefully.

“You are not her mother, Celestia. It is not your responsibility to keep her safe. It is your responsibility to keep the kingdom safe, and if that means sacrificing one subject then so be it.” Luna spoke harshly in clipped tones and cold words.

“You miss my point, dear sister. I speak not of her emotions, but her abilities. I know what she is capable of more intimately than any other. You believe your magic surpasses mine?” Celestia's lips twisted into a small smile. “Perhaps. And yet, you are as an ant to her.”

Luna threw her head back for a room-filling, echoing laugh. “A unicorn? Hardly. Do you forget our battles so readily?”

Celestia shook her head. “As I said, you do not know what she is capable of. She is a child, untrained and unskilled. You are a master of your craft. In poise and subtlety, you could cast circles around her, but I do not know how deep her power runs. It may not end. If you wish to employ Cadence's abilities to 'fix' her it will not go unnoticed, and her trust in us will shatter. Political problems are secondary to retaining the trust of the bearers of harmony; surely even you can see that?”

Luna was silent for several moments, then walked over to her sister and draped a wing across her body. “I do not mean to fight you, sister. You make it so hard.”

Celestia smiled and rubbed her muzzle against Luna's cheek. “Patience, Luna. You must always have patience. Perhaps one day you will learn some.”

The princess of the night snorted. “And yet you offer no paths of your own. Will there come a time when losing her trust is better than the alternative? How many seconds late was the dawn today, sister?”

Celestia sighed. “Too many.”

The air crackled. The ground, hundreds of feet below, blurred and twisted into a smudge of green and brown. The sky before Rainbow Dash began to lose its blue tinge and render as monochrome. Her wingbeat was punishing, but she still willed them to move faster.

“Another,” the pegasus snapped, pushing a now-empty bowl back across the bar. The salt had crusted around her lips, but she neither noticed, nor cared. Her mane had slipped from purposefully messy to just messy, and her wings still twitched in time with grimaces and winces from her face.

Her shadowy surroundings faded into a pointless darkness. Had she concentrated, their mysteries would have revealed themselves to her, but the only thing Dash was concentrating on was the stream of fresh salt being deposited into her bowl once again. The dirty stool beneath her creaked as she leaned forward to snatch it from the bartender's hooves.

“Don't you think you've had enough, miss?” He looked at her. His eyes were uncaring; the question was an obligation and nothing more. miss, Dash thought. Not miss Dash, or Rainbow, or anything indicative of any amount of care or knowledge. He was just another stranger in a city full of ponies who didn't know who she was.

Earth ponies serving bars were rare. Dash knew this from experience; this was the first one she'd found where the staff weren't unicorns. The first one she could sit in and forget. She grabbed the bowl between her hooves and began to swallow, downing the foul substance with practised ease.

The streaks of blurred cloud around her began to disappate as she reached even greater speeds. All that was below her now was the ocean. Failure wasn't an option. Dash's thoughts began to blur as her brain put all its concentration into maintaining flight. Even the fleeting images of a purple unicorn began to dim, replaced with micro-fractions of a movement in a secondary flight feather.

The air rushing over Dash's body began to lessen as she twisted and turned with the eddies and currents, becoming more aerodynamic every moment. The friction dropped off and her speed began to increase further. A dark cone of something began to form before her. Something Twilight could have pinpointed, probably.

The unicorn passed before her eyes once more and Dash felt a feather snag on the wind. It ripped out immediately, taking with it a few drops of blood and a significant fraction of Dash's speed. It was only a minor feather, but without it she couldn't maintain complete aerodynamic stability.

“At least have a glass of water. On the house.” His gaze didn't waver. The eyes still didn't care.

Dash shook her head. “I'm fine,” she rasped from between dry, chapped lips. “Another.”

The barman shook his head.

“I'm good for it, you know I am,” Dash pleaded. Despite his unchanging stare, Dash put on her best hopeful expression. Ponies were eighty-five percent water, Twilight had once said. Dash knew she had a long way to go before she was dehydrated enough to stop caring. “C'mon, I need this.”

He shook his head. Those eyes closed, then he turned away. Dash jumped, kicking off and leaving the stool to clatter against the floor. “Fine, I'll just go somewhere else.” Dash spat—or tried to, failing due to lack of fluid left in her mouth. “Anywhere'd be glad to have me. I'm Rainbow bucking Dash, remember that!”

The wooden door crashed against the outside of the building, violently reacting to Dash's kick. The sun hung low in the sky. Evening? Morning? Dash instinctively looked around for a familiar reference point to orient herself around, but found nothing. The tall buildings of Manehatten surrounded her in every direction, blocking off her view of the surrounding world. It didn't surprise her there were few pegasi living in the city; such constraints would have been akin to Tartarus had they not been what she was looking for.

Dash fell, spiralling through the air with a thick trail of rainbow chasing her tail. Her eyes were closed, as were her wings. At thousands of feet above the ocean, Dash knew she had entire minutes of freefall before she'd have to spread her wings once more and return to civilisation, with yet another failure on her belt.

Dash opened her wings. The damage had started to heal, and flight was merely uncomfortable rather than painful now. The mare was no stranger to injuries, but she recognised this one as something that wouldn't heal; at least, not without magical intervention. Maybe later, she thought.

“Hey!” a voice called, coming from somewhere behind her. Dash turned her head and spotted a young pegasus mare chasing after her. Older than flight school, but not old enough for the Wonderbolts. There's something we have in common, Dash snapped at herself.

“Wh- Are you talking to me?”

“Yeah! Wait up, Rainbow Dash.” Within a few moments, the newcomer had caught up, and stood slightly out of breath before Dash in the middle of a cobbled and alien street.

Dash looked the mare up and down. Her coat was a light brown, and her mane a soft red. Her side was emblazoned with a gleaming cloud. All of that was irrelevant, however, when Dash looked at her eyes. They glimmered and flickered between all the different parts of Dash's body. The look was somewhere between respect and adoration—something Dash hadn't felt for almost two weeks, now. “Um… hello?”

“Hey! I- I thought I recognised you back at the bar. You're Rainbow Dash, right? Wonderbolt?” She spoke breathlessly, though it seemed to be only partially due to the run.

Dash nodded.

“I'm a huge fan! I was devastated when I heard you quit!”

Dash coughed. “What? They said I- Yeah, yeah that's right. Sorry. I uh, yeah I quit.” She shuffled on her hooves, uncomfortable with the lie even to a stranger.

“Oh, sorry; you must be parched. Say, why don't you come back to my place for a drink?” The newcomer looked up at her with a hopeful face.

Dash opened her mouth to make an excuse—No, I can't, sorry. I have to go back to my cheap floatel and mope.—but none came out. “I uh- I can get water.” Dash mentally placed her hoof over her face, blaming the dehydration for her lack of ability to come up with a good answer. That wasn't quite fair, though—even when fully watered, Dash had taken to relying on Twilight's wordsmithing to get her out of boring things.

“How about company, then? You're the first pegasus I've seen since I got here, and I'm kinda missing flight talk.” She shuffled on her hooves.

Dash frowned and stared at her, trying to ascertain whether she was serious or not. Dash was a mess, she knew she was, and she knew anypony would notice.

“Fine, okay.”

“Awesome. Name's Cloud Shine, by the way. My place is just round the corner.”

Twilight Sparkle took a few steps into Rarity's spare room. The seamstress had told her to treat it like her own—she had—but it still didn't feel like home. It had used to contain materials and failed designs, now it contained reference materials and failed dreams. Twilight carefully swung the door closed with one of her hindlegs and turned back to her work area.

Spike!, she thought, almost calling out for him instinctually before recalling his absence. At first, he'd been enthusiastic about sleeping at Rarity's house, but after a few days Twilight had realised that she didn't want the company.

Twilight knew that she'd sent him to Canterlot to re-organise her royal accommodation for purely selfish reasons, but she refused to admit the biggest to herself. Spike was her real-time link to Princess Celestia. The third day of “How are you holding up, Twilight?” or “If there is anything either I or my sister can do, we are at your command.” proved unbearable. At least without Spike, Twilight could choose when to open the letters.

Twilight walked over to her desk and peeked around the thick walls of literature surrounding it. A small pile of unopened parchments, still sealed with a waxen royal insignia, rested against the wall. Tomorrow, Twilight thought. She took a step back, then sat on her stool once again and looked down at the page. The title Asymbiotic Flora Fields and Their Effects On Magical Transceivers peered back up at her.

Initial research indicates the specific crystalline formation of the Magic-induction form is heavily influenced by the local maxima of magic energy fields. This is most notable inside large conductors, such as sufficiently sized trees or totems, and

The sentence cut off partway through, partially through lack of ink and partially through apathy. Twilight stared at it, willing it to vanish. She wished Rainbow Dash were there even more, not simply for companionship or simple affairs of the heart, but as the pegasus had proved herself as a research assistant time and time again. Mostly through her ignorance allowing her to consider absurd solutions which couldn't possibly work, but occasionally contained a grain of genius.

“What's the point of writing this stuff down if nopony else can read it anyway, egghead?” Dash lightly tapped the side of Twilight's horn from her position resting atop her back. The pegasus was naturally light, but Twilight had grown so used to lifting her magically it was effortless—Dash could rest on her without causing either of them discomfort. Her multichromatic mane fell against Twilight's as Dash looked past the unicorn's purple, and delicious, ear to scan the text before her.

“It's a research paper, Dash, not a magazine article,” Twilight snapped under her breath, subconsciously listening to ensure nobody overhead her faux-conversation.

“Yeah, and who reads research papers? Come on, explain it to me. Make it interesting or I'll start napping.” Dash rested her head atop Twilight's and let her legs droop freely down her sides.

“Fine, fine. Basically, what it means—in simple, general terms—is that the specific location you grow the crystals is vital. That I happened to do it somewhere that they'd work was just chance, but it gave me a chance to realise that.” Twilight sighed.

“Hey,” Dash whispered, resting a hoof on Twilight's cheek. “Come on, you didn't do that badly. I think I understood most of those words, even!” The pegasus grinned, though Twilight couldn't see it. The unicorn's demeanour did not improve, however. “Hey, what's wrong, Twi?”

“What's wrong is I'm going crazy. What's wrong is that all my research was for nothing, because I can't grow these outside of our treehouse, and you burnt it down.” Twilight closed her eyes and brushed the hoof from her cheek, almost being surprised when she felt nothing there. “You aren't even here. I don't even know where you are. I don't- I don't even know if you're coming back.” Twilight's head dropped, and her ears went with it. “I don't know what I can do. I-”

“Twilight, darling? I was wo- oh.” Rarity's head peeked around the ajar door. Her lips quivered as if there was so much more she wanted to say, and her eyes shivered as if there were so many other things she'd prefer to see. She stood there silently.

Twilight looked up. A thin streak of tear-sodden mane descended from each eye. “I don't even know if she still loves me.”

“Oh, Twilight.” Rarity opened the door further and slipped inside, then walked over to Twilight and sat beside her. “I thought you two were meant to be together, but… Well, it's no secret me and Dash don't always see eye to eye-”

Twilight snorted, recalling all the times Rarity had—unsuccessfully—tried to get Dash into fashion.

“-but, well, if she's anywhere near worthy of having you, she'll come back. If she doesn't, then you're better off for it. Goodness knows how she'll manage a sufficient apology for all the awful things she's done to you.”

Twilight forcibly shook her head. “No. No, I'm not better off without her ever, Rarity. How could you even say that? How could you… How?”

Rarity's head moved back a little. “I- oh, no, I didn't mean it like that!”

“Then how did you mean it?” Twilight snapped, “Is that what you read in one of your magazines? That even when you love somepony so much that you can't even sleep because you're too scared you'll dream about them again, and then you'll have to wake up and remember they're not there, you should make them apologise?” Twilight glared at Rarity with tears streaming down her face and a voice that thought maybe if she shouted loud enough, Dash would hear. “I- I don't care why Dash did what she did. I don't care if she never says sorry; I don't care if she never explains why; I don't even care if she does it again, I just want her home.” Twilight grew silent, croaking out her next words between sobs. “I- I need her home.”

Silence fell upon the room. Rarity looked away, leaving her mouth slightly parted in preparation to speak, but without ever taking that final step and vocalising her thoughts. The air grew chillier than a winter's night as their silence lengthened.

Twilight finally sighed, giving the world one last sniff. “And you didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry, Rarity, I've had a bad day.”

Rarity smiled and sighed a quiet sigh of relief. “Darling, you've had a bad fortnight. And ah, please don't take this the wrong way, but if you need to talk to somepony, I'd prefer it was me, not an imaginary Rainbow Dash.”

Twilight laughed and scratched the back of her neck with a hoof. “Okay. Maybe you're right. I'm not making progress here anyway, a break can't exactly hurt.”

Rarity smiled. “How appropriate you would say that! I happen to have a spa appointment this afternoon, I'd love it if you'd come along. Nothing helps you forget your troubles quite like a sauna, Twilight.”

“I…” Twilight looked around the room. “I dunno, Rarity, I'd rather n-”

“Oh, but I already have two bookings, and poor Fluttershy can't make it!” Rarity looked down and pouted, staring up at Twilight as if she were utterly innocent. “Why, Lotus would be devastated if I were alone!”

“Well, in that case, I don't suppose I have much choice, do I?” Twilight looked over to her friend.

Rarity shook her head. “We're worried about you, Twilight, that's all.”

“I'm fine!” Twilight insisted, and then paused for a moment to consider the last five minutes of her life. “Huh. I'm really not, am I?”

“You'll get there, Twilight. Everypony has to eventually.” Rarity smiled, resting her hoof on Twilight's shoulder.

Twilight slowly nodded, giving her self-authored prison one last glance before standing up and walking out of the room. Rarity followed immediately afterwards, slamming the door behind her hard enough to rattle the walls.

“Oh, fiddlesticks, I've done it again.” Rarity turned to face the door and gave it a little push with her forehoof. It didn't budge. She frowned, then furrowed her brow as her horn lit up and surrounded the door in a quiet magic field. It didn't budge. “Hmf. Twilight, darling, would you give me a hoof?”

Twilight frowned, then walked back and gave the door a shove. It was jammed tightly against the frame—Twilight made a mental note to scold whoever built it—but couldn't stay shut against Twilight's weight for long.

Rarity smiled. “Thank you, Twilight. You're stronger than you look, you know.”

Twilight emitted a quiet snort. “Dash never gave me a choice. My days of sitting around reading all day came to a sudden end when she moved in. Not that I was ever particularly unhealthy—Celestia wouldn't allow it—but… Well, Dash gives excellent full body exercise training.” Twilight's gaze dropped. “Or gave, anyway.” The unicorn scoured her mind for something to change the subject to.

“Wait,” she said, “the door wasn't that stuck. You should have been able to open that. Was that another feel-good thing, because… I don't get it.” Twilight tilted her head and looked at her friend.

“Ah, no. That was actually what I was coming to talk to you about, Twilight. I didn't want to bother you, but this is becoming really quite worrisome and it's starting to interfere with my work.”

“Your magic is weak? Have you tried cockatrice milk? Fluttershy should be able to get you some.” Twilight was quite knowledgeable on the subject of magical illnesses. Spike called her a hypochondriac. Dash didn't know what that meant.

“No, not exactly. Perhaps I should show you.” Rarity lead Twilight through to her main workroom, where half-finished dresses adorned plastic ponies and scrolls lined the walls filled with ideas and concepts. Materials and resources were scattered over the floor, leaving barely a square inch of the once-luxurious carpet visible beneath.

“Celestia, Rarity! This looks like… Pinkie Pie hit it. Is your horn okay, can you even output this much magic?” Twilight leaned close and inspected the ridges on Rarity's thin white horn. She couldn't notice any damage, though without using magic of her own she couldn't do a deep inspection to prove it.

Rarity rolled her eyes. “No, this is normal. Honestly, does nobody in this town understand creative zen? No, look over here, at the wall.” Twilight carefully made her way across the room, avoiding reams of fabric and rolls of cloth, though unfortunately standing on a few scribbles—Rarity would say works of art—and creasing them slightly.

The wall in question looked normal in every way. It was painted white, with a perfectly even coat stretched across the smooth interior wall. On it hung a few posters and noticeboards, filled with upcoming fashions and old fashions likely to come back in this season. Twilight didn't understand any of them. “I don't get it.”

“To your left, Twilight, that sewing needle.” Rarity pointed at a small needle sticking out of one of the noticeboards, protruding a few centimetres into the room. Twilight gripped it between her teeth and pulled, fairly easily sliding it from its hole. Several inches later, it was free.

“Oh! Ha thee gee ee?” Twilight mumbled, speaking around the needle with a minimum of success. Rarity plucked the strip of metal from Twilight's jaws and jabbed it a little way into the noticeboard again. Twilight began fresh. “Oh! How'd that get in?”

“Well, I was rather hoping you could tell me. I was using it, and then all of a sudden everything I was holding flew across the room. I ruined the design, and poor Opalescence was just terrified.” Rarity paused, frowned, and looked around, searching for the cat. “She usually comes out of hiding in, oh, a few days.”

Twilight's brow furrowed. “How abnormal. Magical weakness through illness is fairly common, but strengthening? That shouldn't be possible, you can't just make a pony more receptive to the magic field. Believe me, I've tried.”

Rarity blinked. “You lost me at receptive, I'm afraid. Not a scholar, remember?”

“Oh, doesn't matter. Are you sure you didn't just… accidentally fling it across the room?” Twilight looked on hopefully.

Rarity cocked an eyebrow. “Twilight, were I able to throw a needle through a wall, there would be many ponies in this town who would do well to watch their backsides. I assure you, such uncouth brute force is beyond me.”

“Oh. How interesting. Maybe it was just a fluke, maybe… temporal ripples or parauniverse crosslapse or something.”

Again, Rarity blinked. “You lost me even earlier there.”

Twilight sighed. “Yes, I just made that up. Sorry, bad habit, but it's easier than explaining to Dash that I don't actually know everything about magic.”

Rarity laughed. “Unfortunately, I'm afraid this isn't the first time, either, it's ha-”

“What?!” Twilight's head immediately snapped round the lock Rarity in her gaze. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Well, surely that's evident, Twilight? I don't want to trouble you.”

Twilight shook her head. “It'd trouble me more not to know! Or… you know what I mean.”

Rarity nodded. “I apologise, Twilight. I visited the hospital, but nurse Redheart didn't think it was serious.”

“Ugh,” Twilight groaned. “She doesn't know the first thing about magic. She once asked how often I had to shave my horn to keep the hair off it. No, this is serious… maybe.”

“How serious? I'm not in any danger, am I? This season's fashion is just starting to bloom, I really can't afford to miss the initial rush!” Rarity looked concerned, Twilight noted, but once again missed the point.

“No, no. Well, I don't think so.” Twilight paused. “I don't know. Look, there aren't many rules about magic, really, but the big one is that you can't change anything that makes a pony who they are.”

Rarity thought back to both her own magical education, and the spells she'd watched Twilight cast. “Oh, is that why you had so much trouble giving me wings? Because I'm not meant to have them?”

Twilight frowned. “Sort of. Those fake ones are easy, but real pegasus wings are impossible. Yours were mostly hard because I was still thinking about Dash's tail.” She paused. “Hm, that came out wrong.”

Rarity coughed, then licked her lips to moisturise them. Twilight looked around.

“Anyway, the point is, you can't change a pony's cutie mark, you can't significantly alter their personality, and you can't make them more magical.” Twilight frowned. “Discord could do it, but nopony knows how.” She raised a hoof to her horn and gave it a rub, as if to clear her head. “I don't… I've been feeling something, some… fluctuations lately. I wrote it off as, well, you already know.”

Rarity tilted her head slightly. “Do you think they're related? Can you fix it?”

Twilight shrugged, turning to inspect the pinprick hole in Rarity's wall. “I don't even know what the problem is. It could take weeks of research to narrow it down, and that's with magical help.”

“But if there isn't a problem with your magic, then cou-”

Twilight's head snapped back to look at Rarity. “No. You know why.”

Rarity began to pout. “But Twilight, you seem so calm! Surely you're calm enough to try, at least? For me? I'd appreciate it ever so much.”

Twilight looked away, resting a hoof on the wall and closing her eyes. “Look, I know you mean well, but… I spent years up in Canterlot learning how to hide myself from everypony else. I know I can't do it. I think about doing research and all I can see is Dash's face smiling back at me, with that stupid labcoat she always insisted on wearing and her mane tied back. She was no help, not normally, but… I can't imagine doing it without her now.”

Twilight sighed. “I'm sorry, Rarity. When I do magic I feel like I could bend the world to my will, but I just want it to go away. I don't trust myself right now.”

“But-”

Twilight shook her head, cutting her friend off. “I'm sorry, I can't. Maybe you could try one of the unicorn doctors?”

“Hmf, I suppose. However, I absolutely refuse to leave you alone. You shall still accompany me to the spa, right?” Rarity stared, wavering her eyes at precisely the correct level to seem desperate.

Twilight nodded. “Honestly, I think I could do with the massage.”

“So hey, it's not much,” Cloud Shine said, pushing open the cheap wooden door to the cheap ground-level apartment in one of Manehatten's less popular areas. “But it's home to me, and I've got plenty of water.”

A mouse scurried across the stained and scratched wooden floorboards, fleeing from the invasion of its home. It scampered into a small hole in one of the walls at the far side and vanished.

“Should get Fluttershy to talk him out of there,” Dash slurred. Fluttershy would know what to do with animals, she always did. The last time a mouse found its way into the treehouse, Twilight had almost pulled her mane out fretting over damage to the books. It had only been quick thinking on Dash's behalf that had stopped the librarian from pulling her library apart in search. Fluttershy spent five minutes chatting to the thing, and half an hour later she had a new friend.

“Who?” Cloud called through from the kitchen, moments before Dash heard the tinkle of water being poured into a glass. That single word was enough to pull her back down to Equestria and rip her head from the clouds.

“Nevermind.” Dash walked through to the apartment's other room, which contained a scarred sofa and a small pile of cheap magazines. Equestrian Flier's Monthly was among them, as was a months-old copy of Playmare.

The walls were bare; they'd clearly once been wallpapered, but that was “once”. Not now.

“Here you go.” Cloud Shine held the glass out for Dash to take, then sat on the sofa by her side. “So hey, what brings a superstar like you down to Manehatten?”

Dash took a drink. The water felt like ambrosia to her salt-cracked lips and dehydration-addled mind. As the cool liquid flowed down her throat, she couldn't help but think back in time, back to the first time she'd really learned to appreciate water. Back on her honeymoon.

Suddenly the water tasted bitter, like somepony had dumped rock shavings in it. “Eugh.” She set the glass down on the floor next to the sofa, lamenting the lack of any kind of table or surface. “I'm here because… Man, it's a long story.”

“I'm a good listener,” Cloud promised. She pulled her legs up onto the chair and curled them around herself, getting comfortable ready for a story.

“I'm a crappy speaker, sorry.” Dash sighed. “I shouldn't be here, I'm not great company.”

“Oh, sure you are!” The red-maned mare nodded eagerly. “Come on, you're Rainbow Dash, how could any of your stories not be awesome?”

Dash grinned. “Yeah, yeah you're right. I guess it is kinda cool. In a way.”

Several seconds passed. Cloud tilted her head. “Well?”

“Oh, I kinda tore a muscle in my wing or something. I think, anyway, I'm not all that hot on doctor stuff. I flew a bit too fast, probably shouldn't have.” Dash's grin faded.

“Trying to break your speed record? Be fair, Rainbow Dash, or nopony'll ever beat you again!”

Dash smiled. “Nah, I was… flying away from somewhere. Doesn't matter.”

The other mare shook her head. “Nuh-uh, if something can make you fly too fast, I wanna know what it is!”

“Look, it's not- I don't really feel like talking about it, okay?”

“Oh. Oh, okay.”

Silence draped itself across the room, almost suffocating the mares with the force of its presence. Dash picked up the foul liquid once more and took another drink, sating her body's desires and reminding her mind of what she'd lost yet again.

She sighed. “It was a mare.”

“Anypony nice?”

Dash laughed. “Yeah, the nicest. Celestia, what've I done? I lied before, it's not kinda cool at all.” She looked down, letting the half-empty glass tip almost to spilling point before she caught it.

Cloud reached out and pressed a hoof onto Dash's leg. “Wanna talk about it? I wasn't lying, I am a good listener.”

“I dunno. I kinda suck at the whole feelings thing. That's why I'm here, I guess. Horsewhips, why couldn't I have just talked to her? Why'd I have to- Why did I do that?” Dash stared at her host, with the slightest hint of a tear in the corner of her eye, hoping perhaps she might have the answers.

Cloud Shine shrugged. “Why do we do anything? Some things just aren't meant to be.”

Dash took another swig of the water. It still tasted awful, and she could have sworn she saw a few specks of dirt spiralling around in it, had she not been convinced her mind was playing tricks on her. “What if it was meant to be, and I screwed it up? Can you do that, can you… break fate like that?”

“She was your first, wasn't she?”

Dash shook her head. “No, only the first I loved.”

“That's what I meant. C'mon, everypony goes through it. First love, you don't really know what you're looking for. You don't have that experience that tells you what'll drive you mad. There's no shame in cutting your losses and finding somepony else, Rainbow.” Cloud rubbed the side of Dash's leg and leaned towards her.

Dash shook her head. “No, I don't wanna give up on her. I can win her back, I know I can. I don't wanna live the rest of my life without her, I dunno how to.”

“Nopony ever does. You sure she'll ever take you back? Is it worth chasing after her if she won't?”

“She- No. I don't know if she will. I kinda… Made a really bad exit.” Dash sighed. The tear ran down her face without impairment. “The hay do I do if she won't take me back?”

Cloud shrugged, shuffling a little closer. “Move on,” she whispered. She raised her hoof to stroke Dash's cheek. “Find somepony else to be special.”

Dash shied away, but only for a moment. It had been so long since she'd felt a warm hoof brush against her face she'd almost forgotten what it had felt like. “How? How do I just… turn my feelings off?”

The glass clattered against the floor, spilling the last few drops of liquid onto the floorboards, as Cloud pulled herself forward and rested her lips against Dash's. “Drown them out.”

She moved the tiniest bit forward, tilting her head to the side and brushing their lips together. She raised her hooves and lightly held Dash's head between them, keeping her in place as she kissed. A full second later, she pulled back, keeping Dash's lower lip between her teeth for just a moment longer.

Dash gasped. “I-” Her heart was racing. Her head felt fuzzy and her hooves felt sweaty. It reminded her of that time so many years ago when she first met Twilight, and could barely manage to speak two words to her without needing to do something to impress her.

“Shh,” Cloud whispered, pressing a hoof against Dash's lips to silence her. “It doesn't have to mean anything. You and her aren't together, you aren't betraying anything.” She leant down and began to lightly kiss down Dash's neck. “You're Rainbow Dash. You could have any mare you wanted. If whoever she is is too selfish to see what a catch you are, then I'll have you.”

Dash closed her eyes and let out a quiet moan, savouring the feeling of wet lips sliding against her coat once more. Her body seemed to pulse with every heartbeat, flushing with heat at every opportunity. Her skin burned, becoming uncomfortable everywhere but the sweet moments of nirvana emanating outwards from the pale mare's lips. “I- ah!” She groaned, twisting her body underneath Cloud Shine's.

She knew she should pull away. She knew that every second that went by reduced her chances of winning Twilight back even further. “I- stop…” she moaned, fighting against her body's near-overwhelming desire to give in as she felt the teeth nip around her collarbone, sending sparks of desperation tingling through her. “I'm… I'm a married mare,” she whispered, raising her hooves to Cloud Shine's flank almost involuntarily. The meaty flank squashed and misshaped under her hooves, sating a tiny fraction of her body's desire.

“Sounds like it's already broken.” Cloud moved down, running her tongue along Dash's chest, down almost to her stomach.

Dash cried out in pleasure, throwing her head back and to the side. “Y… yeah,” she moaned out, screwing her eyes shut to try and block out the nagging voice in her head that still screamed stop. Everything Cloud Shine said made sense. Twilight was a lost cause, she had to move on.

She opened her eyes, staring across the room as she felt the dancing tongue dart across her stomach, and the mare's hooves press against every inch of her sides even as her own hooves did the same. The room suddenly seemed so much more homely. She could see herself here—decorations were overrated anyway. The only real problem was the dark stain from the cracked glass a few inches away from the sofa, a black stain filled with tiny white specks, contrasting on the ground like a starry night sky.

“Huh,” Dash groaned, “What's that?” Her mind was foggy, and she was thinking through soup. Every new idea or concept she thought of by herself had to be dragged through a distant haze. “Did yo- you?”

Dash shook her head, raising her forehooves to press against her eyes. “Ugh, I can't- what am I…” She froze, then slapped herself across the face with all her might. The fog grew less dense, and the haze that had fallen over her surroundings lifted. She bucked outwards, sending Cloud Shine flying across the room to impact on the far wall. A moment later, the mouse scurried out of its hole, running away from the disturbance once more.

Cloud picked herself up, rubbing the back of her head with a hoof and gingerly testing her wings. “What the hay, Rainbow Dash?”

Dash struggled to her feet, propping herself up against the sofa until she felt stable. She staggered over and pushed her hoof into the mare's chest, sending her stumbling back a step to touch upon the wall. “Did you salt my drink?”

Cloud Shine looked away. “I- No! Maybe?” She looked up, keeping her lower lip between her teeth. “You looked like you needed a good time.”

Dash shook her head, trying to clear it. “I don't need a good time, I need Twilight back, damnit. If you can't do that then buzz off and go to Tartarus!” Dash staggered back, tripping over the upturned glass but managing to stay on her feet as she stumbled towards the kitchen for a real drink.

Cloud Shine followed after. “Sorry! I didn't think you'd mind!”

Dash shot a look of disgust at the mare, then nosed the kitchen's tap until a flow of sweet water emerged. She eagerly gulped it down, feeling her body rejuvenate properly.

Water flowing all around her as Twilight's hoof stroked against her cheek. Water from a cloud hammering against them as they ran through Ponyville, Twilight repeatedly berating Dash for locking them out but laughing along all the same. Water from a shower splattering around them, running down their faces and across their bodies. A hoof running through her mane, removing the knots and dirt. A hoof running along her tail, teasing almost innocently in only the way Twilight could.

Rainbow Dash had hated the water once. She still hated it when she was alone. The tinkle of spilled water from the tap echoed across the room, and Dash felt more alone than she ever had.

After what felt like an eternity, she raised a hoof to shut the supply off. Her lips, though broken and with the sour aftertaste of another cheap salt-lick sticking to their corners, felt more alive than they had for days.

Dash turned to face the other mare. Cloud Shine stared down at the floor, occasionally taking blinks that lasted entire seconds in length. Her ears were folded back and her wings drooped towards the floor.

Dash grinned. “I could kiss you right now, y'know?” She jumped over, now only slightly unsteady on her hooves, and grabbed the mare in a crushing, but quick, embrace. “I won't, because like, that'd be stupid of me, but I could.”

“I- Huh?” Cloud looked up, tilting her head in confusion. “I thought you hated me?”

Dash laughed uproariously, almost toppling to her side in one particularly hearty effort. “Nah, I get it now. Hay, look at you, you're pretty cute. Anypony else, yeah you'd probably have got what you wanted, but you were so wrong about Twilight. You were right about me, though—I could have anypony I wanted. I know who I want.”

“But… You said you didn't even know if she still loved you!”

Dash rolled her eyes. “So? I've spent like, forever fretting about it. I dunno what I'd do if she said she didn't, so I'm just gonna have to make her love me again. I can't live without her; how featherbrained am I to think I could run away from that?”

“Look, I feel awful about this. You live in uh, Ponyville, right? That's like, a day's flight away. Rest up here first, you're in no state to fly. I promise I won't try anything.”

Dash shook her head. “A day? I could get there and back in half that without breaking a sweat.” Dash flared her wings to prove a point, but immediately regretted it. Though they were healing, a motion that fast still hurt. She visibly winced. “Heh, okay, maybe not back. Screw it, I'm not coming back.”

Dash almost danced for the door, pulling it open with a hoof and jumping out into the street. Almost as an afterthought, Dash looked behind herself, at Cloud Shine standing in the doorway. “Just for the record, I didn't quit the Wonderbolts. They threw me out.”

The debris littering the street scattered with the force of the shockwave as Rainbow Dash took to the skies, shooting upwards with a single strong wingbeat. She felt a little uneasy still, but every second in the air felt like it was bringing a little more of herself home.

Rainbow Dash was in the air, and nothing could stop her. She looked down at the ponies beneath, taking in the view from on high. Though pegasi were rare in Manehatten, those that did exist were easily spotted flapping through the streets or on the rooftops.

One by one, they began to fall from the sky. Those earth ponies Dash could spot stumbled as if hit by an invisible wave, and the flight of those in the air came to an abrupt end. She looked straight down, catching a glimpse of Cloud Shine before she too stumbled to the side. Dash felt her wings weaken, as if that very same force was threatening to pluck her from the air.

Despite this, Rainbow Dash hit the speed of sound seven seconds later.

Canterlot shook. The floor beneath Celestia's hooves shivered with yet another pulse of an unseen force. Though both she and her sister stumbled, not a single book trembled on the library shelves surrounding them. Her gaze strayed to the nearest window, overlooking a large swathe of the city. As expected, this time was worse than the last.

Celestia felt Luna's gaze burn into the back of her neck, however she could not tear her eyes from the scene before her. The pegasi who had been unlucky enough to stay near the ground simply fell out of the sky, striking Equestria's surface an instant later. Those higher up were more lucky, and only fell a few meters before the pulse ended. The pegasi were the most obviously affected, but Celestia knew the rest of her people weren't left untouched. Even she felt her power waving.

“We are running out of time, sister.” Luna spoke slowly and without force, though her authority on magic was undeniable.

Celestia sighed, tearing her gaze from the window and pointing her head back between the pages of a book. Though Celestia had thousands of years of magical practise behind her, maintaining a gentle enough grip to ensure the ancient tome remained undamaged was mentally draining. “You are correct, as always, Luna.” Celestia snapped, her patience growing thin. “However I remain entirely unsure as to our next move.”

Luna nodded, placing her own book down on a nearby shelf. “As am I. Assuming your assessment of the young Sparkle is correct, we are running low on possibilities.”

Celestia closed her book, slamming it shut hard enough that any librarian would have evicted her immediately. Luckily, there were none present. “Have the Corral come to an agreement?”

Luna chuckled. “Now I am certain you're desperate, sister.”

“They may only be unicorns, but this is very much their domain. They may have spotted something we missed.” Celestia spoke without conviction, merely to ensure the room did not plunge into another awkward silence while the two princesses thought alone.

“Yes, yes, I'm sure. No, they remain silent. Perhaps if one of us requires a horseshoe enchanting they could produce results within several weeks, however I doubt we can rely on them here.” Princess Luna stood, raising a hoof to her mouth to stifle yet another yawn.

Celestia rose in turn, then walked to her sister and met her in a quick embrace. “You should sleep. There are a few hours still until you must raise the night, you need your rest.”

The princess of the night shook her head. “I will survive.” Luna rubbed the side of her horn and ran her tongue around her mouth, hoping to clear the exhaustion that fell over her.

“Lu, please. You have been awake for days, now, and we both know how well our enchantments are holding under this bombardment.” Celestia rested one of her forehooves against her sister's back, leaving it there until Luna pulled away.

“How can I sleep without any certainty of tomorrow's dawn? How can you?”

Celestia moved closer, resting her entire leg over Luna's body and lightly hugging her. “I've had a thousand years of practice at sleeping when I should not be able to. I do not expect sound slumber from you, however you require rest. I fear there is little we can achieve now anyway.”

Luna stepped back, her face twisting in shock. “So you're giving up? How can you merely st-”

“No,” Celestia quickly interrupted. “I am not giving up. This is a new problem, we will not find a solution in the history of our people. I fear we have only one hope left, but for that I require you well rested. So go, sister, find your bed and take your slumber. We shall require it.”

The evening sun cast deep shadows across the town of Ponyville, pulling a dark spire out from even the smallest fencepost. Were it not for the candles and magic lanterns dotting the streets, it could have been a foreboding sight before Twilight Sparkle and Rarity as they set off towards the town's spa.

“Darling, have you seen the time? We're going to be late.” Rarity strode ahead with purpose, trotting as quickly as she could without breaking into an unfashionable canter, or worse, a gallop. She winced slightly every time her hooves connected with the hard dirt underneath the now slightly yellowing grass. “And honestly, somepony really needs to talk to those pegasi. As much as Dash and I disagreed on when it should rain, she did at least do so.”

Twilight shook her head and muttered something under her breath, hurrying along after Rarity. Her saddlebags were packed with a few hastily grabbed books, and her mane looked a little tamer. Rarity had refused to allow her to be seen in public without at least brushing it.

“What was that, dear?” Rarity looked back, slowing slightly to ensure she didn't get far ahead of her friend.

“It's not lack of water.” Twilight stopped and pressed a hoof to the ground. The dirt crumbled as she moved it around, and blades of grass simply fell apart. She raised one to her mouth and nibbled the tip. “Eugh, and it tastes foul.”

Rarity shook her head. “Twilight, ponies walk on this. Of course it's foul, it isn't even imported.”

“No, I mean… eugh. It's bitter. Might be something wrong with the rain, do you mind if we skip this and I go grab a sample to do some tests on?” Twilight turned to the side and pulled out a small container from her pack, prying off the lid with her teeth before lowering it to the ground.

A thin blue film surrounded it, and it was plucked from her hooves. “Yes, dear, I do mind.” Rarity placed the container back inside Twilight's saddlebags, then yanked the whole apparatus from her back. “We're trying to relax, Twilight. I don't bring my dresses, so you shan't bring your books.”

The ex-librarian frowned, almost dismayed as she watched her gear float back into Rarity's house. “But Rarity, I-”

Rarity shook her head. “My dear, if I must teach you how to relax, I shall. Come on, it's late enough already, our appointment was…” Rarity paused. “Some time ago.”

Rainbow Dash winced, flinching as yet another bolt of pain trembled through her wing. With an almighty effort, she gave one last powerful flap upwards, sending herself on a high arc through the air, and pulled her wings to her side. Though her body was slowly repairing itself, Rainbow Dash ignored all the signs that she should slow down until the very last moment.

She slammed into a particularly soft looking cloud at a significant fraction of the speed of sound, knocking it off course and embedding herself several feet within it. Thankfully, it held, allowing her to catch a few moments of rest before taking off once more, bursting from the other side of the runaway puff of water vapour and weatherwork. It had tasted like Las Pegasus, maybe with a hint of Cloudsdale. A well-travelled cloud, and not one that wouldn't recover.

Dash squinted, raising her hoof to shield the sunlight from her eyes. Though Ponyville was still beyond the horizon, she could spot many of the landmarks she used for navigation there. Canterlot, the kingdom's seat of power, made an excellent point of reference. Raised high off the ground, Rainbow Dash could use both its distance and angle to calculate her position.

“Thirty seven,” Dash said, pointing towards a thin red line crossing a graph on Twilight's desk. The librarian looked up from her breakfast, a medley of apple and freshly cut grass, and tilted her head.

“Huh?”

Dash strolled away, walking past Twilight and batting her with the side of her tail as she went. “Your graph's wrong.” She grabbed her own bowl and, after shaking her head and rubbing her eyes to clear the early-morning blur, began to grab a meal of her own.

Twilight laughed. “Is this one of your jokes? That's a translinear exponent magicform graph with a quadrilateral energy matrix overlayed onto the background mental interference,” she said, or said something like it. Or said nothing like it at all, Dash had lost interest at “trans”.

“I have no idea what that is.” Dash threw her plate of food across the room, instantly working out the correct angles to adjust for gravity and any ambient drafts from the open bedroom window. It landed with a loud clink, hitting the side of Twilight's bowl.

“Careful, Dash, you almost hit mine.” Twilight frowned. Twilight was cute when she thought Dash made mistakes like that.

Rainbow Dash landed with determination, immediately in front of her bowl, leaving her pressed tight against Twilight's body and holding her in place with a wing. “Nuh-uh, I meant to put it there. Just like I meant thirty seven.”

Twilight rolled her eyes and pulled the chart across. “Look, this is a relatively simple calculation. Take the magic reading, translate it around the interference matrix, and you ge-” Twilight froze. Her eyes flicked between the page and the pegasus. “You get thirty seven.”

“Told ya.” Dash grabbed the bowl and raised it to her muzzle, wolfing down the breakfast treat in a matter of seconds. “C'mon, I've gotta go practise, you coming?”

Twilight frowned. “You don't have a mathemagical background, Dash. Is this one of you and Pinkie's pranks?”

Dash looked around, then peeked under the table. She returned to tap Twilight's nose with her hoof. “I don't think so. C'mon, Twi, that stuff's easy. It's just like flight vectors.” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Flight mechanics was the only class I actually passed, I think. Oh, except cloud ec, but c'mon. Everybody passed that.”

Visions of wearing her white lab coat—worn to protect her carefully styled body, and seduce Twilight Sparkle—and helping out in Twilight's lab flashed through Dash's mind as the ground beneath her vanished. What was behind her may as well have fallen off the side of Equestria, it held such little relevance. What was ahead seemed to stretch out to infinity. Every wingbeat drove her faster, and yet the distance didn't decrease as fast as Dash would have liked.

Treetops bent and swayed as Dash passed, bringing with her a gust of wind strong enough to knock birds out of the sky. Despite this, the forest beneath seemed endless, stretching before her without limit or constraint. While every foot she flew was a foot closer to Twilight Sparkle, it was yet another fraction of a second she had to spend in twisted anticipation.

The sky was clear and blue, without a single imperfection or wrinkle. Dash thought back to the weather schedule, the one pinned to the roof above her bed. While it had originally been placed there in a desperate attempt to ensure she remembered it, Twilight knew it better as her focal point during bedroom turbulance. Today it had been followed perfectly, something Dash knew Twilight knew intimately.

Fresh from taking the last few scraps of cloudstuff back to Ponyville's main depot, Rainbow Dash spotted Twilight half the town away, calmly strolling across the main square. In her magic grip she held a stack of papers and documents, keeping them a few feet away from her and hovering in the air.

Rainbow Dash felt the wind tickle against her body and factored it in to her angle of descent as she dropped, aiming to take a low swing at the unicorn and knock her off her hooves.

Around Twilight stood Ponyville's market place, but the stalls were no issue. Dash pulled her wings to her sides and extended her hooves, zipping through tight spaces and bursting past paper signs advertising deals and savings. The purple mare grew steadily in Dash's vision until there was no room for anything else, the sky and ground and everything around having been pushed from her eyes.

“Ow!” Twilight groaned, picking herself up a few feet away. Dash mumbled something, shifting between out cold and merely dizzy. “Dash!”

Twilight picked the pegasus up too, brushing her off with a few well placed planes of force and then setting her onto her hooves, as if Dash was a lifesized doll to be manipulated. Rainbow Dash didn't mind, especially not when her puppeteer's strings could be pulled back.

“I uh- Hi.” Dash coughed. “You normally catch me.” Rainbow Dash shrugged, then looked away. Behind her was the remains of a small stall that had once held cabbages. Once. “That was me, wasn't it?”

Twilight nodded. “Sorry, I was a little distracted. I've been thinking, Dash. You're pretty good at quick mathematics, so ho-”

“Hey!” Dash snapped, quickly glancing around to ensure there was nobody else nearby. “Shh! I am not! Pinkie'd never let me live it down!”

“Ahem. So how about you help me with some of the theory stuff, too, not just the field research? I know you seem to enjoy it, and I'd appreciate the help.” Twilight tilted her head to the side, and lowered it, staring at Dash with two wide eyes. 'No' was an impossible answer.

“Do I get to wear my lab coat?” Dash grinned.

“Uh… Sure.”

A tree branch scraped against Dash's leg, shocking her back into reality. She had a few small instants to take in the scene before her, then she crashed head-first into a tree.