Twilight

I am writing this from the gardens. What you wrote to me a few days ago… I am troubled. I am sick at heart. I will not hide this from you, not now. It would not be right to do so. Are we not friends? Do we not share a companionship which sustains us? I believe so.

I see the circles. I see them everywhere, yet they are not threatening. They simply are. The world is rearranging itself. Or has it always been this way? A thousand years and more I have lived on this continent and I have not noticed it. From the foundations of the world I have not. It cannot have always been this way.

How blind can immortals be? If gold rusts, what then shall iron do?

Our only hope is in observation and in study. We must catalogue. We must test. A rational, empirical approach is the only way forward that I see. Involve others. Do not trust only your own eyes, but seek consensus. Ask questions--innocuous questions, but ask them regardless. We must know if it be only we two who see the coming of this…

Whatever it is. Can such a thing have no name?

I know that you have kept yourself diligent. You must strive to continue this! Let no stone, no pattern, no pony go undocumented. Rationality, Twilight. We must hold onto the things that make sense of our world. Objectivity in the face of the unknown, logic that cuts through the madness of the material world to expose the underlying truth, the things that dictate the surface. The Sign beneath the signifer. It is there. It must be.

It is also possible that there may be some subtle magic at work. Despite our long lives, Luna and I have not seen all there is to see of magic and we can still be fooled. Be on your guard.

Twilight stumbled. She stifled a curse, as Spike was walking with her.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Fine. A rock in the path. A, aheh, a stumbling block. If you will.” Twilight spoke in halting quickness, brief rapid-fire declarations with awkward pauses in between them. She sniped at language from behind the rocks.

“Oh.” Spike scratched his scaly head with a claw.

“Anyhow. Spike, have you ever noticed the pattern of the cobblestones here in the square?” Twilight asked suddenly.

“What?”

“There. Do you see it?”

“What?”

“Ugh. Look, first. Then say what. At least play along.”

“Well… I guess they are nice? Uh… what am I looking for?”

“A pattern.”

“Uh… well, I really don’t see one.”

“What do you see?”

Twilight had lost all semblance of normalcy. Spike flinched. Something was odd but he would not put his clawed finger upon it.

“Are you okay? It’s just rock. There’s a little fountain and the cobblestones and ponies from town. They are laid out in a circle--”

“Yes. Yes.” Twilight sank back onto her haunches.

“Twilight?”

“I’m fine.”

“And I say, dear, that you must come by more often. Where have you been this past week? Since our last luncheon, nopony has seen much of you at all!”

Spike, for once, said little. Even in Rarity’s domain he could not shake the feeling of dread. What on earth was wrong with Twilight? What on earth did she feel or think?

Twilight smiled. It was a sickly smile, the kind of smile one reserves for the guillotine or the interrogation room. “Oh, nothing. Just busy! Say, could I ask you for a favor?”

“Certainly… Twilight, dear, are you quite alri--”

“I’m fine.” Twilight gestured to the store. “How long have you set the displays to run parallel to the lines on your floor? The ones in the carpet. How long have those been there?”

Rarity blinked at her.

“What?”

“Twilight,” Spike began.

“It’s very important,” Twilight continued, her regard for convention gone.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand the ques--”

“Exactly. I have to go. I’ll talk to you later. I promise.”

Twilight stormed out of the room, muttering.

Spike stayed behind. Rarity blinked at the retreating Twilight, with a gaped look of confusion. She shook her head. “What… what has gotten into our Twilight?” She glanced down, noticing Spike had not left. “Spike? Is… is something wrong?”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t been talking much. At least, not to me or anypony else. She asked me strange questions too. And always with that… that tone of voice.”

“Do you think poor Twilight might be under a bit too much stress? Has she been working on some new project, some great discovery?”

Spike shrugged. “She’s been sending letters back and forth a lot, but I never see her actually working on anything. She writes a lot of letters, anyway.”

Dear Celestia

The ponies of Ponyville seem oblivious. Even when they see they do not SEE if you understand me. They don’t find anything strange with what they are doing, even as they blindly follow the patterns set out in the floor. In the sky.

There was a great circle in the sky today of Cloud. I could not find Rainbow Dash to interrogate her about it.

I am beginning to fear that you were right. Magic must be at work here.

Twilight,

If that is your opinion, then let us proceed upon it. Ask no further questions.