They stared at her speechlessly. “Why are we so important to the battle’s outcome?” Twilight asked, her expression a mixture of desperation and terror.

“My dear student, you are the most powerful unicorn here.” She spoke as if she didn’t need to explain further.

“But what about Pinkie?”

“Yes, Pinkie.” She looked at the pony with cautious interest. “In order to understand her, I need to explain something.” Rainbow groaned and rolled her eyes, and Twilight leaned forward. “All ponies contain, within their subconscious, the potential for magic. However, while a unicorn can access it with her horn, it remains locked away for a pegasus or earth pony.” She once again looked at Pinkie. “For Pinkie here, however, this is not the case.”

Twilight looked at the princess as if she had struck her. “Pinkie has magic?”

“I have magic?”

“But how is that possible?” Rarity asked, looking at the pink pony uncertainly.

“Every now and again, a pony is born without the natural, mental barrier between her subconscious and her ability to use magic. I believe the statistic is one in every half million.”

“Is it natural?” Rainbow asked.

“Oh, yes. Unusual, but natural.”

She paused, and Pinkie looked around, face blank. “But… but, I don’t. I’m just plain ol’ Pinkie Pie, no magic at all.” She raised her hooves in a shrug, as if to show her lack of magic by their emptiness. Celestia shook her head patiently.

“Ah guess it makes a lot of sense,” Applejack said slowly. “She has always been good at… whatever she does.” Pinkie withered slightly, shaking her head.

“Producing parties out of thin air,” Rarity said.

“And keeping up with me, even though I’m the fastest flyer in Equestria,” Rainbow said.

“Not to mention her Pinkie sense,” Twilight said.

“And her ability to pop up unexpectedly from nowhere,” Fluttershy added.

Pinkie frowned. “But that’s not magic,” she said meekly.

“Then what is it?” Twilight asked.

“It’s just, you know, normal stuff. I grew up with it. It’s nothing special.” “Pinkie, if it’s so normal, how come you never see us do it?” Rainbow asked. Her voice was free of judgment and impatience.

“I dunno. I always assumed you chose not to ‘cause you never needed it.”

Rarity laughed in spite of the room’s seriousness. “Goodness, no, Pinkie. Trust me, if I could do the stuff you can, I would. All the time.”

“You have a gift, child,” Celestia said.

Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Oookay, so… maybe I am magical. But why do I go with Twilight? Wouldn’t Rarity be better for it?”

Celestia smiled warmly. “No, and this is the second thing I must explain. You see, Pinkie, for a pony like you—a pony with no barrier between thought and magic—the issue of magical capacity becomes somewhat moot.”

Pinkie tilted her head to the side. “Huh?”

“A pony’s magical capacity is determined by the strength of her subconscious barrier. If the barrier is strong, she has less potential than if the barrier is weak.”

“Oooh, I get it,” Twilight said. “So since Pinkie doesn’t have a barrier at all, her capacity is basically… oh, wow.”

“Without putting too fine a point on it, Pinkie, if you can think it, you can do it.”

Pinkie only stared, and the others stared at her. As the information sunk in, her expression grew ill: at once confused and dismayed, and not completely trusting of the princess’ words.

“That is, of course, if you learn to focus. That’s the one thing stopping you from becoming truly formidable.”

“What do you mean, ‘focus’?” Applejack asked.

“I mean focus her magic, as well as her thoughts.” She looked at Pinkie. “Pinkie, if you put your mind to it, you might have enough power to rival me.” Her voice grew stern for a moment. “And I don’t say that lightly.”

“Wait wait wait,” Rainbow said. “I’m still tryin’ to get my head around that first part, and now you say that she has enough power to rival you? As in, enough power to rival the goddess that raises the sun every day.”

“That’s right, Rainbow Dash.”

“Hang on.” Pinkie held up her hooves. “You said I’d be that powerful if I could focus my magic, but I can’t. Not really, anyway.”

“Pinkie, you use magic all the time. Apparently,” Applejack said.

“Well, sure, maybe. But that’s, you know, normal. Not like Twilight does, like all serious and concentrating-y and stuff. I just do it. It’s natural.”

“It is not your focus that needs work; you have enough of that to get by,” Celestia said. “In fact, I am not so certain that more focus would be a good thing. More discipline, perhaps, but not focus.”

“Why not?”

Celestia turned grave. “Pinkie, the amount of power you wield is no laughing matter. Given your… scatterbrained tendencies, I think we would all be more comfortable if you didn’t develop it too much.”

Pinkie laughed, relieved. “Oh, okay. That won’t be a problem. I can be responsible.” She waved a hoof dismissively. “Pinkie Responsible Diane Pie! That’s me!”

“I appreciate your attitude, Pinkie, but this is no joke. You could do serious damage with your power.”

“Don’t worry, Princess! You can count on me! I bet I won’t even use my magic half the time!”

“That’s gratifying to hear.” She gave Pinkie a smile, which she returned enthusiastically.

“So… what exactly is she supposed to do?” Twilight asked.

“I think it’s just a matter of learning a couple spells for the battle.”

“Oh, right,” Pinkie said, the excitement faded from her voice. “That.” She looked up at the earth ceiling, and for a moment, everyone remembered what was going on outside. “What kind of spells?”

“We will get to that, later.” The princess addressed the others. “So, Pinkie and Twilight will go together, on the battlefield.”

“Wait! You can’t do that!” Fluttershy cried. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. Um, anyway, you can’t do that. It’s… it’s too dangerous for them out there, your highness.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Fluttershy. That’s where Rarity comes in.”

A cold weight plummeted into Rarity’s gut. “Me?”

“You, Rarity, have a brand of magic most suited for area defense. I feel you would be best following Twilight and Pinkie Pie, using your magic to shield them.”

“Out… out there?”

“Yes.”

Rarity looked at the two ponies, for whom she was suddenly responsible, and then up at her horn. “How am I supposed to protect them when I don’t even know any spells?” She looked worriedly at the princess.

“What about Rainbow Dash, and Applejack, and Fluttershy?” she asked. “Am I protecting them too?”

“No. They will not be your concern.” Rarity’s jaw dropped, and the others gasped.

“So what are we, then?” Rainbow asked indignantly.

“You don’t expect us to go runnin’ out in the middle of that without any protection, do ya?” Applejack demanded.

“Of course not, Applejack. You will be enchanted before leaving,” Celestia said.

“So why not enchant all of us, and save Rarity the danger?” Rainbow asked.

“An enchantment can only go so far, Rainbow Dash. Rarity will offer more protection than that. She must.”

Rainbow frowned bitterly. “So Rarity’s being saved for Twilight and Pinkie, ‘cause they’re more important.”

“They will be in greater danger.”

“And we won’t?”

“You will not be expected to fight as much, no.”

“Why’s that?” Applejack asked.

“You do not have as much magic.” Her tone was neutral, almost distant. Rarity supposed it was to be expected; her mind was likely on the battle.

“What do you mean, not as much magic?” Rainbow said.

“You still have some, but your talents—non-magical talents, I mean—are more suited to watching and directing. While Twilight and Pinkie fight, you two will help by telling them where to go, and by giving them warnings.”

Rainbow opened her mouth to respond, but thought for a moment, and shut it.

“You all need not worry. You are down here to learn the spells you’ll need. By the time we go back up, you will be prepared.” She looked at each of them, and went on. “Twilight, Pinkie, and Rarity: I will magically connect you so that, if necessary, you can teleport to each other quickly. That is not license to separate from one another, just an option in case you do get split. Try to stay together as much as you can.”

“Yes, your highness,” Twilight said reverently, and Rarity only nodded. She was still trying to process her new responsibility.

“Good. Fluttershy, I am sorry, but your magic is most suited for healing. You, too, will be in the thick of things.”

“Go figure,” Rainbow said.

“Oh, um… oh dear. I don’t know if that’s good,” Fluttershy said, blushing and hiding behind her mane. She mumbled something that none of them picked up.

“It’s a simple enough job. You just need to fly around and tend to the wounded. Try not to stay in any one place for too long.”

“Do I get any defense?”

“You’ll receive the same enchantment as Rainbow and Applejack.”

“Oh.”

Rainbow raised her hoof. “Question. If we’re just Twilight’s eyes, do we really need to be out there?”

“I am afraid so. I need you all there, to be ready to help Twilight at a moment’s notice. I’ll explain why shortly.” She turned directly to Rarity, who swallowed nervously. “Rarity, in the event that Twilight and Pinkie get separated, I want you to follow Pinkie in every instance, unless directed otherwise.”

“Princess!” Twilight said, shocked and hurt.

“I’m sorry, Twilight, but I cannot afford to look at you all as friends right now. It would cloud my judgment, and nothing loses a battle faster than that.”

“But I’m your best student.” Her voice went quiet and soft in a tone that Rarity recognized, but heard very rarely; Celestia had really hurt her.

“I know, Twilight, but please try to see this from my side.” She turned back to Rarity. “Pinkie has more power than Twilight, and she’s also our last resort—I’ll explain that in a bit. For now, Rarity, we’ll say if she falls, Canterlot won’t be long behind.”

Rarity looked up at her, then to Pinkie, standing a bit to the side with a tentative smile. “I… see.” She then looked to Twilight briefly, but received no acknowledgement.

“Twilight, I know you’re upset right now, but there’s something else you need to know.”

“I’m listening.” Her voice was dry and uninterested.

“If things don’t go well, I’m going to rely on you and Pinkie to work together to bring the battle to a swift and conclusive end.”

“And how would we do that?”

“If it comes to it, I need you to use a power-enhancement spell on Pinkie, the biggest spell you can possibly cast.”

“The biggest spell I can possibly cast.” Twilight thought. “Well, if you really want me to reach my limit, I’ll need to use a sigil.”

“I was going to suggest the very same.”

“It’ll be pretty big.”

“I know. That’s why I want the others able to come in and help you. If you have to use a sigil—and I hope not—but if you do, you’ll need to have as many ponies around you as you can, for protection.”

“And what exactly is Pinkie supposed to do with all that power?”

Celestia sighed. “Unfortunately… I cannot say.”

Twilight paused, not sure how to respond. She looked, once more, as if Celestia had slapped her. “H—how? How can you not know something like that?”

“You must understand, my student, that Pinkie’s power is not something that can be easily controlled. Even less so once you’ve enchanted her. The amount of power we’re dealing with cannot be practiced at her current magical level.”

Twilight sighed loudly. “Why not?”

“The spells simply don’t translate down. And we can’t enchant her here.”

“Why not?”

“Because the spell I expect you to cast is not one that can be done twice in so short a time.”

Twilight looked at her for a minute, her hoof idly scratching the ground. She gave a heavy sigh. “I understand. I guess.”

“I am truly sorry that it has to be like this.”

“Um, can I ask another question?” Rainbow asked, looking cautiously between the two of them. Celestia nodded to her. “Why don’t we just have Pinkie do her thing immediately?”

“Because it comes with very, very high risks. Even assuming we can clear enough room for Twilight to draw the sigil, and assuming she can cast the spell properly, there’s the threat of Pinkie having too much power to handle. The plan could backfire, and she could hurt us, or herself. Not to mention the possibility that Twilight overexerts herself. If that happens, she could get hurt, or even die.”

“Wait, you want the spell to be so big that I might kill myself?” Twilight cried, a new flare of indignation in her voice.

“I am sorry, my student, but yes.”

Twilight looked at her, then at the others, frantic and upset. “Are you serious? Is she serious?”

“Twilight, please,” Celestia said. “I know it is a shock, but—”

“Yeah, it’s a shock! Princess! How could you?”

“There is no other way to be certain that Pinkie has enough power,” Celestia said firmly. “Twilight, if I could help more, I would, but I need to be alongside my sister. I cannot cast your spell for you.”

“That isn’t what I asked,” Twilight said, averting her eyes and blushing darkly. She sat that way for a moment, and then breathed out huffily. “What else do I need to do?”

“That’s my plan, in basic,” Celestia said. “Do you all understand your roles so far?” The response was noncommittal from them all. “Good. Now, I must unlock the magic in the rest of you.”

“Unlock our magic?” Applejack repeated.

“Wait, won’t that make them like Pinkie?” Rarity asked.

“No. Pinkie has no block in her subconscious, and I am leaving that with you all. I am merely allowing you to express yourselves magically, through that block.” Celestia thought for a moment. “You could think of it like me giving you an invisible horn, I suppose. Just a means to use magic, not a total opening of potential.”

“I didn’t know that was possible,” Twilight said shortly.

“It takes a very powerful spell to unlock a pony’s magical ability, and very few are able to cast it. I doubt even you could do it, Twilight.”

“No, I don’t suppose I could,” she said quietly.

“I must warn you three, however. The process may not be entirely pleasant. Different ponies have different reactions, and there’s no way to know how you will react to my spell beforehoof.” She gave an encouraging smile. “But it’s not dangerous. Who wants to go first?”

“Ah thought RD an’ Ah didn’t have enough magic,” Applejack said.

“No, you do not have a lot of magic. You still have some—a not-insignificant amount. It may seem small, compared to Twilight and Pinkie, but even a small burst of telekinesis can be enough to save your lives.”

At first, no one did anything; they all looked at one another, waiting for someone else to step up. Rarity didn’t show it, but she felt relieved. The idea of undergoing a spell to have one’s magic unlocked frightened her.

“I’ll go,” Rainbow said at last, stepping over to the princess. They stirred momentarily, but kept quiet, and Celestia touched her horn to Rainbow’s head.

“Just relax,” she whispered, and Rainbow closed her eyes, whether willingly or by magical compulsion Rarity couldn’t tell. For thirty seconds, the scene persisted: Rainbow, head bowed and eyes closed, with Celestia’s horn resting on her crown like a thin-ended valve into her skull, glowing brilliantly. Like she was receiving a blessing.

As soon as Celestia broke the connection, Rainbow’s knees buckled, and she went to the floor, hard, gasping and grimacing.

“Rainbow! Are you okay?” Fluttershy ran over to help her, but all she could respond with was an inarticulate retching sound. “Oh no, oh no,” Fluttershy murmured as she tried to inspect the writhing pegasus. “Did something go wrong with the spell?”

“No, the spell worked perfectly. It appears Rainbow Dash just happens to have a very… touchy brand of magic to her,” Celestia said calmly.

“What can we do?”

“Wait for the pain to subside, I’m afraid. No amount of magic can change what she’s feeling.”

Everyone watched, alarmed, as Fluttershy gave Rainbow her hoof, which she held tightly between her own, squeezing and twisting like a rubber toy. Her face was screwed up in agony, her eyes leaking silent tears, her nose wrinkled, sweat dripping down her brow. She worked her back legs, pushing herself along the ground weakly, like a dying machine. Her wings flapped slowly and languidly, and she tried to roll over onto her back. Through it all, Fluttershy offered no resistance, keeping her hoof trapped in Rainbow’s pain-strengthened grip.

Suddenly, she jerked her head back and forth, the cords of her neck standing out boldly, and released a scream, dismal and guttural, more like a cry of sorrow than of pain. Fluttershy tried to lean in to say something comforting, but Rainbow’s thrashing forced her to keep back.

Her scream went into a low, dying whine, and she slowly stopped squirming. When she was done, she lay on her back, gasping and panting. She coughed and opened her eyes, and Fluttershy helped her sit up, rubbing her back. Rainbow shook her head again, this time to clear it, and slowly refocused her vision. Everyone watched her with fear and discomfort—Pinkie looked to be on the verge of tears.

“Rainbow?” Fluttershy asked timidly. Rainbow closed her eyes again, tight, and reopened them.

“What happened?” Twilight asked nervously.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“How do you feel?” Celestia asked.

“Terrible.” Celestia nodded at her to go on. “And a little… floaty, I guess. My head feels like it’s not completely connected to my body.”

“Can you see straight?” Fluttershy asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Can you describe your experience? Oh, um, if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll try. It’s kinda blurry.” She rubbed her head, and Fluttershy started, as if expecting another attack of pain. “As soon as the princess took her horn off me, my heart started going crazy, like beating really fast, and then it started hurting. It was like… I could feel my heartbeat, but instead of pumping blood or whatever, it was pumping pain.” She paused. “That’s not quite right. But you get the idea. And then… let’s see here. My stomach started hurting too, like it was splitting, and so did my head. I stopped feeling much else around then.” She coughed again, and Fluttershy rubbed a sympathetic hoof up and down her back.

“That sounds horrible,” Twilight said, sending another frown at Celestia.

“Are you sure you’re okay, darling?” Rarity asked.

“Yeah, I’m good. It’s pretty much done.“ She looked up at Celestia with a slight scowl.

“I am sorry, Rainbow Dash.”

“What kind of magic do I have, then? It better be good. Uh, your highness.”

“Actually, your magic is fairly basic.”

“Basic?”

“You don’t have much, but what you do have is most suited for telekinesis.”

“Like Twilight.”

“Similar. Yours is more… raw. Even cultivated, as theirs is, your magic will not be as delicate.”

“Uh… huh.”

“Of course, you will need to do some experimentation and study, to fully understand.”

Rainbow slumped to the ground unhappily. “Well, that’s great.”

“You may come to enjoy it, Miss Dash.” Celestia looked at Applejack and Fluttershy. “Who next?”

“Now, to clarify,” Applejack said, flicking her eyes to Rainbow, “what happened to her ain’t gonna happen to us. Is that right?”

“Most likely, yes.”

“Well… all right.” Applejack stepped forward. “Ah s’pose Ah’ll go next. Fluttershy oughta stay with Rainbow fer now.” She walked up to the princess and removed her hat, placing it by her side. “Let’s get this over with.”

“I know you’re afraid, Applejack, but it’s important that you relax.”

“Ah’m tryin’, yer highness.”

Celestia gave her a minute, then leaned down and touched her horn to Applejack’s head. Applejack winced. “This shouldn’t take too long.” Her horn came to life, and Applejack was covered with lambent, white light. For two minutes, Celestia kept her horn pressed to Applejack’s forehead, her eyes closed in concentration.

When Applejack was released, she simply flopped to the ground, her eyes open but unseeing, her body motionless save for a light rise and fall of her chest.

“Applejack!” Twilight cried, rushing forward. “Is she okay, Princess?”

“Yes, Twilight, she is fine.”

“What kind of reaction is this?” Rarity asked. She was liking the unlocking process less and less.

“Total disassociation,” Celestia said calmly.

“What is she experiencing?” Fluttershy asked.

“Probably not a whole lot. She’s lost in whatever she’s looking at at the moment, and I think she will be for a couple minutes. Let’s just let her be.”

They did as they were bidden, watching Applejack wordlessly. To Rarity, it seemed strange and uncomfortable. She felt the urge to go to her and make sure she was okay, or help her up, or at least confirm again that she would be well soon, but resisted it—and she didn’t know quite why. Everything was quiet; she could hear the others breathing, all calm, and she looked once more at Celestia.

“Um, your highness, are you sure this is good for us?” Rainbow asked.

“I know it looks bad, but after the initial shock has passed, you will all be fine. I promise.”

“Hmph.”

For another, interminable minute, Applejack was motionless, and then she stirred. Fluttershy went to her and helped her up, placing her Stetson back on her head gingerly.

“She’s fine, I assure you,” Celestia said.

“I know,” Fluttershy said, her brow furrowed. When Applejack had stood, Fluttershy looked her over. “Um, how are you feeling, Applejack?”

“Weird.”

“What happened?” Rarity asked.

“Ah just sort of… lost touch with everythin’.” She looked at the ground. “An’ Ah guess Ah fell over.”

“So what kind of magic is it?” Rainbow asked.

“Dissociative reactions generally point to a more suggestive kind of magic.”

“Suggestive?”

“Like possession,” Twilight said dully. “Or mind-reading.”

“A very delicate brand of magic,” Celestia said knowingly.

Applejack only looked at her. “Ah don’t feel any different.”

“You shouldn’t. At least, not until you begin casting.”

“Er, yes, when are we going to get to that?” Rarity asked. “Soon, I should think.”

“As soon as I’ve unlocked Fluttershy’s magic, we can begin.” She looked at Fluttershy, who cringed slightly. “Fluttershy, are you ready?”

“Oh, um, I guess so.” She hesitated, and then timidly approached the princess. Like the others, Celestia touched Fluttershy with her horn, and they stood together for a minute, Fluttershy trembling and cracking her eyes open to look up at the princess’ serene expression.

When Celestia plucked her horn away, Fluttershy gasped and reeled back, eyes open and startled, and Applejack caught her. “Fluttershy? What’s goin’ on?”

Fluttershy’s mouth worked, but produced no words. She stood still for a moment, but then began to shiver, at first only slightly, in small, tight, limb-contracting vibrations. Applejack held her as the shivers overtook her, her hooves and wings shaking and stuttering uncontrollably as she released tiny gasps that put Rarity’s fur on edge. Was she in pain, or pleasure? It only lasted a minute, and when she calmed down, she accepted a hug from Applejack, and slid to the floor. Her eyes were squeezed closed, and Rarity could tell that it had not been a good experience.

Rainbow stood between her and the princess, mesmerized. “Fluttershy, are you okay? What happened?”

“Oh, it was awful,” she said quietly, her voice still tremulous from her reaction. “It felt like being dunked in really, really cold water.” She shivered once more, and Applejack rubbed her back.

“Are you okay now?” Celestia asked.

“Oh, um, I think so.”

“Good. Now please join the others. I am sorry; I would like to give you all a little more time to recover, but time is… not something we have a lot of right now. We must get to the next part of our preparations.”

“What part is that?” Rarity asked warily. She thought she knew.

“Now, you learn how to focus your magic. Kind of.”

“Kind of?” Rainbow said. Her voice was a little hoarse.

“Well, you won’t be able to focus it as well as Twilight or Rarity; that kind of focus requires years of practice, and we only have a few minutes. I’ll teach you enough to get by, though. Luckily for us, war is messy, so your magic can be too.” She smiled and winked, but nopony smiled back. “Twilight, I want you to partner up with Applejack. Rarity, you take Rainbow Dash. I’ll handle Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy. Now, we’re showing them how to focus their magic, but no specific spells yet. Just get in touch with the magic inside.” They broke up into their groups.

“How are you feeling, Rainbow?” Rarity asked quietly. She felt guilty for not being by any of their sides as they endured Celestia’s spell.

“Much better now, thanks.”

“Good. I’m sorry you had to go through that. I can’t imagine what it was like.”

“It’s all good, Rare.”

“Well, good. Now then.” Rarity cleared her throat importantly. “To begin, you don’t just jump in and start casting spells. I remember when I started using magic, it took me a very long time to get used to it. Let’s start with finding our magic.”

“What do you mean?”

“You see, Rainbow Dash, magic is a lot like singing. Before you can start singing, you need to find your breath, and before you can start casting spells, you need to find your magic.”

“I… guess that makes sense?”

“It’s all a matter of focus, Rainbow, darling. Now, I don’t believe there’s anything different from how I use magic and from how you will.”

“Okay, but how do I focus?”

“Let me finish. I don’t think your magic is any different from mine, so I’ll teach you the same way my mother taught me. Now, Rainbow, close your eyes, and relax. You’re going to get in touch with the magic inside.”

Rainbow closed her eyes a little reluctantly. Rarity waited a moment to make sure she was actually going along with her instructions, and then did the same herself. She took a second to clear her own mind, difficult with the background noise, the fatigue, and the dread that, while dulled by the safety and isolation the bunker afforded, still pressed inwards on her heart with a dark weight.

“Let’s start with breathing, Rainbow. I want you to concentrate on your breathing, and nothing else.” Her voice became soft, and she stifled a yawn. “Let no other thought occupy your mind, except breathing.”

She heard Rainbow’s breathing slow, and tried to make her own do the same. In time, she spoke again. She remembered being a filly, and her mother guiding her through the same meditative process. She spoke slowly and gently. “Feel the weight of your hooves on the floor. Feel the way it supports them. Feel the way your hooves support your legs, and feel the way your legs support your body.” She paused for Rainbow to center herself. “Feel the air in your lungs. Take a deep breath, and feel your lungs expand in your chest.” Rainbow did so, and she followed along. “Let your mind go wherever it wants. Forget your worries, and your cares. Forget everything that may stress you out, or frighten you. Forget the room you’re in, and forget the ponies you’re with. Let my voice be your guide.” She gave Rainbow a moment. “Don’t think about magic. Don’t think about fighting, or the princess. Wherever your mind wants to go, allow it.”

They sat together quietly for a few minutes. Rarity couldn’t tell how Rainbow was doing, but her own body wanted to go back to sleep. She shook her head minutely to try to wake herself up. “Now that you’re empty, you can feel the magic within you. Feel the power that your own confidence can give you. Realize that you can accomplish anything you want, as long as you know you have that power.” She gave Rainbow another moment. “When I tell you to open your eyes, I want you to remember that feeling of power and certainty. That is the key to using your magic.” She heard Rainbow’s mane swish up and down in a nod, and gave her one more moment. “Are you ready? Open your eyes.” They both did, and Rainbow looked around the room uncertainly. “Do you remember that feeling, Rainbow?”

Rainbow rubbed her eyes. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good.” Rarity looked over at the others. Celestia and Fluttershy were smiling and congratulating Pinkie, while Twilight was telling Applejack not to lose hope. “And how did it feel?”

“I dunno. Kind of like how you said—confidence. Like, I felt like I could do something, even though I didn’t know what. Am I making any sense?”

“Would you say you felt more competent, perhaps?”

“Yeah! Competence, that’s a good way to put it.”

“Good. That’s the feeling you want.”

“Awesome. But how do I use it?”

“Let’s worry about that later. For now, we need to keep practicing finding our magic.”

“Aw, do I have to?”

“Rainbow Dash, you don’t usually have five minutes to find your magic, and you certainly won’t tonight. You need to do it instantly.”

Rainbow sighed. “Okay, okay. Let’s go again.”

“Good. Take a moment to relax, and then close your eyes.”

Rarity talked Rainbow through another meditative session. When they were done, the others had gone quiet, watching them curiously. Rarity blushed and laughed nervously, but no one said anything. When they were ready, Celestia addressed them all once more.

“As you know, you don’t have time to get really, properly good at casting spells. Applejack, Rainbow Dash, for you two, this is no large concern. You really only need to be able to repel an attacker.” She looked at Fluttershy, who shrunk. “Not you, though, Fluttershy. You need to be able to heal with some skill.”

“Oh, um… oh no. I’m not sure if I can.”

“You can. I will work with you.”

“What about the rest of us?” Rainbow asked.

“There is a single spell that I would like all of you to learn.” She looked back at the far wall, her horn glowing briefly. With a grinding, grumbling sound, it opened outward into a long, grassy courtyard, lined with amorphous wooden structures. A phantom moonlight shone from above, though Rarity could not discern the source; they were still underground.