The morning couldn’t come soon enough for Spike, the moment the sun’s rays hit his face he was in the shower. Throwing on a fresh set of clothes he darted out of the room, keeping mindful of the sleeping princess still inside. It didn’t take him long to see if the others were up, given most of them had popped out of their door to greet him as he approached their rooms.

Satisfied, he quickly made his way back to his and Twilight’s room and noticed that she was already in the shower. Silently pumping his fist in the air in triumph, he excused himself once more, this time heading to the garden, where he expected the most beautiful woman in Saddle Arabia to be waiting for him.

He hummed, grinning like an idiot the entire walk there, offering a nod to the strangers he met along the way. Today was going to be his day. And he was going to rule it with an iron fist. He spotted the garden entrance and marched towards it.

As soon as he stepped into the garden there she was, his muse, the one he was absolutely going to woo off her feet and have swooning for him by the end of the day. The only real problem with his goal was that he had no idea exactly how he was going to go about doing it. It was true that thanks to the years at the library he had a near encyclopedic knowledge of Equestrian artists, but he wasn’t too sure if he could explain it in a way that would interest her. The way Twilight had taught him about the artists had been dry, to be polite about it.

“Hi!” he called out to her, walking towards the stone bench she sat upon. “How are you?”

“As well as you would expect, Spike,” Amira said, rising from her seat. “I take it with your enthusiasm that you slept well?”

“Yeah, it was good,” he agreed, then clumsily added, “and who wouldn’t be excited to spend time with you?”

Amira let out a laugh before gently placing her hand on his head. “One could say the same for you.”

He blushed, grinning up at her. “I hope you think so. I’d hate to think I was a hassle.”

“Not in the slightest.” Amira nodded. “Now, shall we be off to the museum?”

Spike grew bolder, offering the crook of his arm up to the woman. “My pleasure.”

“Well isn’t that cute,” a voice that Spike knew better than any other called out from behind him. He turned to see Twilight making her way towards them, her thick glasses balanced perfectly on her nose as she bore a wide smile. In her arms she carried a book almost as thick as her thigh, studded with bookmarks and post-it notes. “And here I thought you only did that for Rarity and I.”

“T-Twilight?” Spike stammered out. “What are you doing here?”

“You don’t remember last night?” she asked, placing her free hand on her hip. “The three of us agreed to go to the museum together. And since King Amal decided that there was no need for delegations today I decided to come along right after I got out of the shower.”

“The three of us,” he said, doing his best to hide his disappointment. “I’m sure this’ll be interesting.”

“Oh come on, Spike.” Twilight giggled, playfully punching his shoulder. “It’ll be fun, I even brought my book of Fine Equestrian Artisans so that we can point out who did what.”

He grimaced. “Please tell me you’re not gonna give me homework like last time.”

“Only if you space out,” Twilight teased, roughing up his hair to his dismay, “I hope you two are ready for a wonderful day at the museum!”

Twilight spun around and began to walk off, the moment she was out of earshot Amira leaned down to Spike, still blushing furiously as he watched his sister get further and further away. “Not exactly what I expected,” she said jokingly, “but at least we’ll have someone knowledgeable in the arts to guide us.”

“I guess so,” he said, a bit disappointed that he wasn’t the one doing the guiding. He hadn’t been her assistant for years for no good reason, after all. “I’m sure it’ll be interesting,” Spike hopefully replied.

“I’d hope so,” Amira said, reaching out her arm in a bent position, “especially if she carries a tome like that.”

“That book’s child’s play compared to this one she has on Equestrian history. Or the unabridged autobiography of Celestia she has. That thing’s a nightmare.”

“Well, that’s rather… impressive,” Amira answered, looking to Twilight as she still obliviously strolled along, “but let’s not allow her to get too far ahead, I’m sure she’ll need directions from here.”

“Right, right,” he agreed, quickly moving towards Twilight. “Wait up!” he called after the bookish woman.

“You two weren’t already behind me?” Twilight spun around, her glasses nearly falling off her face, “I’m glad you said something, or else I would’ve lost you when I…” Twilight paused, looking at the many doors and open hallways that dotted the garden’s edge. She sat there for a good minute, eyes shifting from door to door until finally, she let out a heavy sigh. “Which way to the museum?” she asked, awkwardly tapping her index fingers together.

“Third hallway on your right,” Amira replied, pointing to the opening in question. “Then straight ahead until we pass a portrait of the Queen; it will be the first door on the left after that.”

“Right, thank you,” Twilight replied, giving Amira a half bow. “Let’s be off then!”

Twilight headed in the direction Amira had aimed her in before either she or Spike could offer any kind of response. The two watched her speed off for a few seconds before they finally began to laugh between one another.

“This might end up alright anyway,” Spike said, watching her go with a grin.

“I hope so,” Amira said, starting to walk off in the same direction. “Perhaps she’ll calm down once we finally arrive.”

“W-well…” Spike stammered out.

“Is something wrong Spike?” Amira asked, looking to him with slight confusion, “something I said?”

“She, uh, tends to get a bit more excited in museums. All the facts and stuff… like a kid in a candy store.”

“Ah. Then at the very least it shall make for an exciting tour.” Amira nodded, looking towards where Twilight had dashed off. “It’s rare to meet someone of her level of knowledge that still belies a certain enthusiasm.”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah. Enthusiasm. We’ll go with that, over ‘borderline obsessive.’”

“Obsessive can be another word for dedicated,” Amira said, walking through the hallway she had pointed at earlier. “She just wishes to learn more than anything else, it is one of the signs of an amazing leader.”

“She is amazing,” Spike admitted. “In a lot of ways. Even if she does get on my nerves.”

“All family does that Spike,” Amira replied, “you should feel fortunate to at least have a sister who loves you as much as she does. You already know I wasn’t blessed in such a way.”

He gave a small nod. “Yeah. I know.”

“Good.” Amira smiled, softly rubbing the back of his ear. “I believe we have stalled enough, let us pick up our pace so we can keep up with Madam Twilight.”

Spike nodded hesitantly as he increased the speed of his legs, trying to match Amira’s longer strides. It didn’t take them long to catch up with Twilight, who was far too intoxicated by the atmosphere around herself to even notice they were even close to her.

“This place,” she said, looking around her in child-like wonder, “this place is amazing!”

“You haven’t even seen the museum yet, Madam Twilight,” Amira chimed in, reminding Twilight that she and Spike were still there. “I hope you won’t swoon to the point where Spike must carry you.”

“Oh that only happened once,” Twilight said without thinking. “I didn’t even know that there was an entire historical archive under Canterlot until Spike discovered it.”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned. “You’re heavier than you look.”

“I could say the same for you,” Twilight shot back, “Normally when people trip and fall on a tile floor they don’t break the opening to a forgotten staircase.”

“I’m just lucky, I guess.”

“Well here’s to hoping that you don’t get that lucky today,” Twilight laughed, stopping beside a massive door.

Amira walked to the door and placed a hand on the knob. “I hope you find this place to your liking.”

They entered, and Spike was immediately impressed. The foyer was tall and open, with archways to either side of the massive room, a desk at the far end, and a stairway directly right which lead to a 2nd floor, artwork of all shapes and sizes visible on the walls through the railings that snaked around the upstairs walkway.

Above the archway on their left was a narrow sign in a thin, turning script that Spike felt was similar to the written form of griffon-speech. He guessed it was what that wing held, considering the archway on the right had the same sort of sign.

“What does that say?” he asked, pointing to it, unsure if Twilight or his new companion would be the first to answer.

“Historical references volumes one through nine hundred,” Twilight and Amira said simultaneously, but it was obvious that one of them seemed to be reaching a sort of intellectual nirvana.

“We need to go there at some point on this trip,” Twilight said, practically drooling. “We need to…”

“You need to,” Spike corrected. “I’m not gonna waste all the time we can spend here watching you read. Especially when there’s so much stuff in the, uh, east wing.” He squinted at the foreign lettering. “I think.”

“There are actually some very fine pieces of Equestrian art in the east wing if I do recall,” Amira agreed, “I would very much love to see them.”

“And there we go,” Spike promptly said, nodding. “I wanna see them too.”

“Oh, alright,” Twilight said, slightly defeated, “we can look at some of the art and see if we can’t identify who created it by the style…” she paused, looking behind her shoulder to see her desired location one last time. “But I’m still going to the historical references at some point while we’re here.”

“If you say so.”

With that the trio started to make their way to the east wing, but not before Spike had to forcibly drag Twilight past the historical volumes. A quick minute later they all stood before a giant mural, depicting windswept landscapes where the harshness of the desert clashed with the power of the oceans. The art was certainly impressive, but to one of the three it was a perfect opportunity for a pop quiz.

“Alright!” Twilight said, snapping her fingers so the book she carried levitated in front of her. “Who here can tell me who painted this piece, and when?”

Spike smirked, knowing the answer. “Francesco Foschi. I’m guessing around 1760ish.”

“1763 to be exact,” Twilight agreed, “when he was traveling through Camalou back to Equestria, he saw the clash of environments and had to paint it.”

“Very impressive Spike,” Amira said, smiling in approval. “You seem to be be quite knowledgeable in the field of art.”

“Well, picking up a thing or two happens when you worked in a library,” he said, puffing his chest out and smugly smiling.

“Now can you tell me the name of the coast he drew it on?” Twilight asked suddenly, giving her own smug smile toward the boy.

He wasn’t going to lose that easily, the boy locked eyes with her, a rarely seen competitive spirit shining forth. “Dromedarian.”

“Nicely done, Spike.” Twilight grinned, slowly clapping her hands. “It’s good to know that you remember the easy ones, but just wait until we get deeper into this place.”

“Glad you’re enjoying the art too, Twilight,” he muttered out.

Twilight’s brow cocked back as if it were ready to fire off a shot before she spun around, pointing deeper into the wing. “To the next piece!” she called out in a tone that was reminiscent of her bigger brother.

“She is very passionate about the knowledge and history behind each painting,” Amira said, watching Twilight march off to the nearest piece of art.

“I mean, it’s good knowing context, I guess. But what’s wrong with liking something for what it is?” Spike wondered out loud. “There’s no shame in liking something without knowing everything about it, I think.”

“Your words are true Spike, but you must remember to not take everything at face value,” Amira said, starting to walk over to Twilight, “sometimes the most beautiful things have the most disgusting insides.”

“And some things are beautiful all the way through,” Spike answered, watching her walk. He sighed, doing a half-jog to catch up to them.

Moments later, the three stood at the second piece of art, this time a sculpture. One of a man in his prime, standing proudly in the nude, his marble sword risen above his head in seeming victory. Spike looked onward in yearning. If he could have any wish, other than to be able to grow facial hair, it would be to have a body like that, something full of muscle and a good foot taller than what he currently was. Sadly, he was stuck as a young man who could fit into regular people’s pockets.

“Who sculpted this?” Twilight asked, breaking his train of thought. “And when?”

Spike shrugged with a frown, looking at the statue. He might of known, if he really took the time to think about it, but the statue reminding him of his inadequacies took away his drive. “Thutmouse?”

“Despite the lack of confidence in the answer you’re right again Spike.” Twilight smiled, flipping a page in her book, “but can you tell me who the statue is?”

Someone I’ll never be, he thought, looking to the ground. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

Twilight closed the book in a brief moment of victory, not noticing Spike’s downtrodden look at first. “He’s the great Equestrian Hero, Kalel,” Twilight explained, “the legendary warrior whose powers were said to have come directly from the sun.” She tilted her head. “Don’t you remember wanting to be him when you were little? Celestia and I read his stories to you all the time.”

“I do remember that. I guess I didn’t remember what he looked like.” He looked up at the statues face, how it shown with determination and confidence, and he wouldn’t be lying in the slightest by saying he was envious. Kalel had everything, could be anything. And here Spike was. On the ground looking up at something so alien to him he couldn’t understand it, like an insect staring up at the sun. “Was he real, Twilight?” Spike suddenly asked. “Or like Odysseus? Just something people made to look up to? I don’t think I ever asked when I was a kid. I just accepted him as he was.”

Twilight stepped back for a moment, unprepared for question that Spike had just asked. “Well Spike… I, I really don’t know…” she admitted, looking to him with some concern, “Some historians say he was, some say he wasn’t, but his legend says that in a time before Luna and Celestia’s rule, the sun threatened to destroy the world, so, in an attempt to stop the sun, he flew into it, and that he’d return once the sun submitted to him. So far he hasn’t come back, but the sun hasn’t destroyed us either.”

“I see,” Spike simply replied, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Spike?” Both Amira and Twilight asked, before Amira continued, “is there something wrong?”

“I’m fine. It’s just a lose-lose situation is all,” he admitted.

“What?” Twilight asked before Amira got the chance to say anything. “What are you talking about?”

“Either the guy’s real and I’ll never be someone even close to him, or he’s fake and someone I’ve admired since I was a kid is a phony.”

“Spike, what are you on about?” Twilight asked, growing worried.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Spike replied, doing his best to not have a cross tone with her. But it was true. Twilight wouldn’t get being a second fiddle in the slightest, no matter how much she might say otherwise.

Twilight gave him a rather distraught look before turning her attention back to the statute that still stood proudly behind them. “I think we should just go to another exhibit…” she finally breathed out.

“Yeah. That sounds good,” he weakly agreed.

The three started to make their way to the third exhibit, but just as Spike was about to step off a hand gently held him back. “You should never doubt yourself,” Amira said softly, “always have faith in who you are and your strength will be endless.”

“I try,” he admitted. “It’s hard, Amira. I’m not like Twilight or the girls. I don’t have anything… outstanding about me.” Spike swallowed. “It’s why it hits me hard, I guess.”

Amira lowered herself to a knee, actually making herself shorter than Spike as she ran her hand through his hair. “You know, I’ve read several of Kalel’s stories,” she said, smiling with sincerity.

“You have?” Spike replied. “Did you like them?”

“I’ve found them most enjoyable.” She nodded. “But in all the ones I have read, there has always been a single message.”

Spike wordlessly waited for her to continue, staring deeply into her eyes.

“It was to have faith in yourself and in those around you,” she explained, placing her other hand on his face, “when he fought the beast of end times, there was a moment when he lost faith in himself, was there not?”

“Yeah,” Spike reluctantly agreed.

“Do you remember what always helped him overcome his doubts?”

He bit at his lip, staring at the woman’s eyes. A part of him might have known the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her. “What?”

“It was his allies,” Amira answered, “those brave men and women who fought along his side, they hadn’t lost faith in him, and that fact alone seemed to always give him the strength to fight through the barriers he had set for himself.” Amira paused, pulling Spike’s forehead to hers so she could get the message to him loud and clear. “It was the people around him that gave him his true strength, not the sun, not his own physique, it was those he held close to his heart, for if they didn’t doubt him, why should he doubt himself?”

He let his forehead rest against hers, enjoying her closeness as he let her words sink into heart.

“Your friends, your family,” she continued, “they don’t doubt you, and I don’t think they ever have, use that knowledge to become stronger than what you once thought you were, and you will become as Kalel was before you.”

“I hope you’re right. I want to make them proud if I can at all.” He sighed begrudgingly. “And I can’t do that if I keep moping, can I?”

“No, you can’t,” Amira answered simply, something that Spike wasn’t really expecting. “Now come, I’m sure Twilight’s waiting for us at the next exhibit.”

“Yeah. Let’s go, Amira.”

The next exhibit was a large painting pressed against the wall. It showcased an ocean and a faint sight of a beach in the foreground. The main focus was Celestia, standing atop an open clam shell and staring with a sort of want towards the viewer. She was nude, one hand holding her long, multi-hued hair against her womanhood, and the other resting gently against her heart, showcasing one of her full breasts out into the open. To the side, Luna, adorned in a simple robe, was in the midst of walking towards Celestia, her arm raised up with an open cloak in her hands, moments away from covering her sister's nakedness. To the other side were two figures in the air Spike didn’t recognize in the slightest, the ethereal wings granted to the people born with the power of flight open and dazzling on them like translucent colored glass.

“I’m sure I don’t have to ask you who painted this Equestrian masterpiece,” Twilight said blankly, turning to Spike and Amira, “but just to make sure…”

“Botticelli,” he answered without hesitation. “I’m not sure how accurate this depicts Celestia’s birth, but it’s still a wonderful historic piece.” A thought came to him. “This can’t be the first edition of the print, though. That’s in Canterlot.”

“That it is Spike,” Twilight agreed, “Celestia is quite proud of that one, isn’t she?”

“Must of taken a lot of guts, painting her naked, especially how old this is. Since they were, uh, more prude back then.”

“Botticelli didn’t really care much of the opinions of others.” Twilight’s eyes moved slowly from sister to sister, “I’m still kind of surprised that Luna didn’t flat out disagree to this being done.”

Spike paused. “Huh. Now that you mention it, I don’t know why she gave the ok.” He blinked. “Especially when its painted so realistically.”

“We could always just ask her when we get back to Canterlot.” Twilight shrugged. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for it.”

“True enough. You can forget that Celestia’s been around for as long as she has sometimes,” he answered. “And Luna too, sorta.”

“Speaking of Luna,” Twilight said, “I heard she’s recently taken a consort, that’s a huge jump from when everyone was running away from her when she stepped into the light.”

“That is testament that there is love for everyone,” Amira chimed in, “no matter how alone one seems to be, there is always someone waiting to find you, or for you to find them if you choose to be bold.”

“I hope so,” Spike said. “I like to think that’s true.” He looked over to Twilight. “And when did this happen? First I heard of it. Who’s the guy?” Spike paused. “Or, uh, gal? I mean, not to say Luna likes women just because she’s a bit more masculine than Celestia, I mean, heck, for all I know Celestia would be more likely to do that, but…” He rolled his eyes at his stammering, taking a moment to get his ducks in a row and exhaling. “Would I know, whoever it is?”

“I’m not really sure.” Twilight shrugged. “The announcement was made just this morning, the only tidbit of information I was able to get on him before they switched stories was his last name was Ryan.”

“Can’t say I know him. Either way, hope it works.” Spike shrugged.

“Me too,” Twilight nodded, “if anyone should deserve a little bit of happiness after all that they’ve been through, it’s her.”

“Mmm,” Spike grunted out. “I agree.”

They went through several more fascinating pieces; a statue of Luna standing proudly, clad in armor so intricately chiseled from marble it looked almost battle-ready; a more recent painting of Twilight, the ethereal wings she received from her ascension standing obvious and spread behind her back as she hovered in the air, a tome open at her side; and a fossil of what was clearly an ancient dragon, before the time finally crept up on them and they begrudgingly returned to the museum's lobby.

“Wasn’t that fun?” Twilight asked, pushing her glasses back to the bridge of her nose. “And we learned a lot of stuff too, didn’t we, Spike?”

“A thing or two,” he admitted, looking over to Amira. “Though some of it I should've already known.”

“Well I guess I’ll just have to quiz you when we get back,” Twilight replied, “fifteen questions, each one wrong is an extra five minutes you need to clean your room when we get back, deal?”

He groaned, rubbing a temple. “You know, a normal sister would just be happy her brother was willing to go to the museum with her.”

“Spike…” Twilight said with a smile, placing her hands on her hips, “when have I ever been normal?”

He gave a tired smile of his own. “You’ve got me there.”

“Let’s head back to our room,” Twilight laughed, giving Spike a quick rub on his head, “Amira, you know the way from here right?”

“That I do.” She nodded, starting to walk towards a door behind them. “Follow me.”

The two exhausted individuals followed their guide readily, not really caring where she lead them to. In mere minutes the three stood in front of Twilight and Spike’s room with an tired yet happy smile. Twilight flicked her wrist and magic briefly sparked to life, unlocking the door and opening it just wide enough for her to slip inside.

“Thank you for showing us the way around, Amira,” Twilight said, blinking heavily as she slid into the opening, “we’d probably have to sleep on the benches if it wasn’t for you.”

“I try my best,” Amira replied, letting out a tired giggle. “But you’re welcome nonetheless.”

“Spike, be sure to say thank you too,” Twilight reminded him in an almost motherly manner, “just don’t take too long, we both need to be up early tomorrow morning.”

Before he could respond, the door closed in his face, leaving only himself and Amira outside, as well as the sound of silence.

“Yeah. Thank you for showing us around,” Spike said, rubbing the back of his head and smiling up at her.

“The honor was mine, I really did enjoy my time with you today.”

“Me too,” he quickly agreed. “I’ve really liked being with you over the last few days, Amira.”

She smiled. “I truly feel that I was blessed when I met you.”

Spike smiled right back at her. “You know how you talked about what made Kalel strong?”

“Yes,” Amira said warmly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll try to keep it in mind. Someone like you.” He scratched at a cheek in embarrassment. “I think if someone like you believes in me, well…” The boy looked down at his feet, letting the sentence finish itself.

“Then I will never lose faith in you Spike,” Amira said, pulling him in for a quick embrace. “And I pray that you always remain strong for those who love you.”

He returned the hug. “I’m going to. Maybe it won’t look like it, but I will because…” He looked at her. “I want to be someone like him. Or you.”

“In time Spike,” she said softly, running her fingers through his hair, “you will be.”

Spike blindly reacted, giving a small touch to the side of her narrow stomach in response. “If you say so, I think I’ll believe it.”

“Don't believe,” Amira replied, lowering herself to make eye contact with him, “know.”

A bolder man might of threw herself at her, kissed her then and there. Spike, sadly, wasn’t such a person. Instead, he simply reached up, holding a cheek in his hands and smiling longingly to the beauty. A minute passed before Amira rose to her feet, Spike’s hand reluctantly leaving her face as she did so. Withouts so much as a nod she turned away and proceeded to her room, leaving the young man to stand alone outside his door briefly as he watched her disappear into the darkened hallway. Sighing with a goofy smile he bumbled into his room, where Twilight was already preparing to ready herself for bed.

“What did you two talk about when you were alone?” she asked, looking up to him. “You were out there for a good five minutes after I came in.”

“Just odds and ends. You know how small talk is,” he answered, rubbing his neck.

“I know how it is when you aren’t practically gushing over the person you’re talking to,” Twilight teased, snapping her fingers to remove her clothes. “I still remember the first time you tried to have small talk with Rarity.”

“That was different,” he replied, pulling off his shirt and tossing it next to his bag.

“If you say so, Spike.” Twilight laughed, sliding under her covers. “It’s been a long day, we really should get some sleep, I doubt King Amal will call another day off.”

Spike didn’t answer. He reached down and undid his belt, then collapsed onto his bed.

“Goodnight Spike,” Twilight said, nestling into one pillow while cuddling the other. “Sleep well.”

“Same,” he answered, putting his hands behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. “Hope everything goes alright tomorrow for you.”

“You too Spike,” Twilight yawned, pulling her cuddle pillow even closer, “you too.”