Unlike most types of mortals, demons are perfectly capable of being alone. We actually prefer solitude over company. We don’t, however, like being bored. The Other was always in a constant state of flux and change. A demon of the Other will always seek to be active. This makes some tasks, no matter how menial they may be, bearable. Action was always preferable to inaction. This is why being trapped in an Astral Pendant was considered a sort of hell for a demon, ironic as that sounds.

It wasn’t long before I was bored out of my mind. Unlike the rest of the students, I appeared to sleep during class, which I knew would aggravate most teachers. Instead of yelling or imminent punishment, instructor after instructor merely ignored me, or kept sending sly glances, as if I was an interesting fly in a jar that infinitely amused the small minded. It didn’t take me long to figure out that they knew my true identity. This was probably that Principal’s prerogative, Celestia. I knew she would be keeping an eye on me, and her minions were plain as day.

Still, there was a small amount of pleasure from noting the gobsmacked expressions other ponies wore as they realised what I was doing in broad daylight. I was an expert. The snore was not too loud to disrupt the class, but prominent enough so that the teacher would grind their teeth. Perfect.

Twilight also scrupulously ignored me, though not out of malice. She seemed to be paying attention to the teachers. It didn’t make much sense, seeing as the content—as far as I can tell—was leagues under her level, if any of the books in her little room was anything to judge by. But sure enough, there was Twilight, taking notes and chewing the tip of her quill thoughtfully.

I glanced at the paper, trying to see what Twilight was up to. I hadn’t much stimulation, and I was curious as to what could possibly engage my mistress. What I saw threw my curiosity out the window and replaced it with astonishment. Intricate scrawling, that’s how I could begin to describe it. Equations, calculations, diagrams and writing, all manner of spells and incantations littered the page from top to bottom. They were certainly not what the teacher was teaching. Yet…

“Ms. Sparkle!” The old colt pointed a belligerent stick that doubled as a pointer at my mistress.

Twilight shot bolt upright in her seat.

“Y-Yes?”

“What is the thaumatic exodynamic perturbation principle?”

Twilight blinked only once before reciting back a startling response.

“The thaumatic exodyanmic perturbation principle is the descriptive framework pertaining to the underlying mechanics of oscillating scintillators within a suspended field energy of unquantifiable energy expenditure with respect to a non-depleted zero field context. The malignment of the external equilibrium structures outside the field transforms the tensor field equations to higher dimensional magical kinetics that can be resolved if given the right boundary conditions. An example of its usage is teleportation, where quantised structure requires partial, but not complete, resolution in a small timeframe.”

The stallion stared at Twilight for a moment, with a face that could have been carved from stone, before grinning broadly. I should mention that up until now, he hadn’t smiled once since starting the class. “Well, yes, that’s right, Twilight. Excellent response, excellent response, as always.” He chuckled. “It’s a wonder you’re not applying to the Academies already.”

“Yeah, like, why is she in class anyway when she knows everything?” The snarky voice was just outside my hearing; she had whispered the poisonous statement derisively to herself. Of course Twilight hadn’t heard it, but I did, loud and clear. I didn’t even have to turn around to know it was that pushy brat, Amethyst.

Although I usually would not care one way or another what Amethyst would say or do, my mistress’ work on getting me back home was contingent on her feeling up to the task, so I paid attention to what she had to say. After all, half the war is won by information alone, so the more I knew, the better equipped I was. Surprisingly, I felt a slight tinge of jealousy leaking through her words. Interesting, I wonder what happened?

“She should just stay at home and play with her magic, freak.” The last part was deliberately directed at Twilight, being just loud enough just for us to hear, but not the teacher. The teacher had his back to us anyway. In response, Twilight sunk back into her seat slowly, ears wilting back to plaster flat against her skull.

“Don’t pay them any mind,” I mumbled through the corner of my mouth. “They’re just jealous they can’t summon a demon.”

Twilight could only manage a weak smile back. I almost smiled with her, but then realised what I was doing. What was I doing? Chumming up to my mistress? No, no. It’s just comforting her so she’d focus more on sending me back. That was it. That’s the only reason.

Right?

————————

The class ended, but instead of a break time, the students drifted off into small groups.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

The innocuous question made Twilight wince unexpectedly.

“Group study,” she reluctantly answered, whilst beelining it to the door. I followed behind her, worried that something might happen to her in the hallway, but the students merely faded into the background. Well, this was a different class of students, but some magus academies I’ve been to had featured sudden death for the unwary opponent. It seemed that none were willing to stick around long. Besides, I doubt they would try anything within earshot of the teacher, despite how elderly he was. Didn’t look like he could hurt a fly. On the surface Twilight seemed used to it, but the brief hopeful scan of the students as they trailed away betrayed her feelings.

What did mortals call it? Acceptance?

Even though she was putting a brave show about it, I could tell she was crushed.

“Does this happen often?”

There was only a sullen nod in reply.

“Listen, mistress, you can’t let these younglings push you around. You’re a full blown magus already! Teach them a lesson!”

Twilight whipped around, her expression going from glum to glowering in a heartbeat.

“The first lesson in magic is Respect Life,” she ground out through clenched teeth.

I would have crossed my arms, but the gesture would have been hard considering I was standing in my current form. I settled for raising an eyebrow instead.

“And you’ve never once considered harming someone else?” I snorted. “Magic is simply another form of power. Use it how you will. If it benefits you, what’s the harm?”

“You’re always so ready to hurt somepony, Morpheus. Why?”

“I’m ready to hurt? I’m ready? The first lesson in magic is Respect Life.” I touted the message back with an ironic tilt of my head and pointed a hoof to my chest. “Summoning me against my will, trapping me in the mortal plane, can you even conceive of the toll it takes on me? I guess I don’t count as Life, do I?”

“T-That’s not true, I didn’t know…”

“Didn’t know? Or didn’t care? For someone who looks like they do their research, seems like you missed a fair bit.”

That seemed to strike a nerve with Twilight, and she visibly flinched as if I had struck at her.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked, looking away, “but magic doesn’t solve everything. A-And I’m trying hard to send you back.”

“Hmmph.” I was unconvinced. Not of her shockingly mature statement, but rather the sentiment of a magus that, for once, didn’t want to use magic to solve all of their problems. It didn’t mesh with my view of the cut-throat magi I’d seen in my miserable tenure as their servant. Still, I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing my rising unease.

She made it so difficult to dislike her.

I almost raked my claws through my hair, but I remembered that it was a hoof at the end and the gesture would be entirely less satisfying. I mean a flat hoof was like a hammer over seaweed rather than a scythe through dry grass. The prickling sensation of razor sharp implements passing through my noggin was unmatched, let me tell you. In fact—

My thoughts were interrupted by mistress’ plaintive sigh.

“O-Okay, let’s go, Morpheus.”

Twilight trudged away, her trailing hooves reminiscent more of dragging through mud rather than air.

She looked downright depressed, and I guess I was partly to blame. No, no, she was the one to blame, after all, she was the magus, and they were trouble, no matter the form. As I jolted forward after her, a very strange sensation of guilt welled up. Not that guilt was foreign to me, but rather the concept of feeling guilt towards a magus of all things.

“Hey,” I called out, just before Twilight could creep out of my sight.

She looked back at me.

“Let’s, uhm…”

For someone as snappy as myself, stringing together an apology was surprisingly hard. I trailed off, the silence stretching between us awkwardly.

“I’m… uhh…”

“It’s fine, you were right…” Twilight replied glumly, and simply moved off down the hallway, looking more weary than any child should. “Let’s get to the library and do some work.”

There it was again, that annoying prick of guilt.

———————

In the library, anyone would be forgiven for thinking the last few minutes hadn’t happened at all. Twilight zoomed about, seemingly delighted in the prospect of knowledge. Flittering from shelf to shelf, books on the table accumulated with a frightening velocity as the magus seemed determined to read the entire contents of the library in one go.

I caught her as she was about to get another tome from the shelves laden with arcane knowledge.

“Hey, you can’t be serious about reading all these books?”

Twilight finally came to a stop, piling another book on the teetering stack, before getting it in her head to try and fetch a book from the bottom of the column of books.

“Stop!” I snatched at her hoof, just as she brushed against it. The book stack teetered wildly as I braced it with my fore hooves, tilting here and there until it finally came down and hit me square in the face, neck, and my unmentionables. It didn’t really hurt that much, but I came out of the pile with a scathing glare that could have cut through diamond.

“Hehe… sorry.” She didn’t look sorry at all. Twilight picked a book from the pile that lay on the floor and shifted into her seat, propping the book open with a couple of other books acting as a stand. She dove into the volume, lost, for a moment in time, to the world beyond.

I rolled my eyes. Looking at the child, it was clear that she took genuine pleasure in learning something new, being more delighted than burdened by the endeavour as my previous owners would be. Magi before her had a mad gleam of obsession when they chased knowledge, seeing it as more a means to their ends rather than a body of work to be respected. Not that I had much respect for magic, mind you, but I could understand the effort it took to discover something new and the training required to execute the old.

Many of my demon friends liked to blame magic for their misfortune. I didn’t, because I recognised the same thing that magi recognised with magic: It was a tool. That didn’t stop some of them from burning libraries of books and erasing any magic circle they could get. Part of the reason why some demons went ’berserk’ after being released from our shackles, was so that they could destroy the means of summoning us.

I… understood, but I didn’t agree. Magic was simply part of the world, it was like hating the claws of a demon or the teeth of a tiger, it was the mind behind the action that warranted hate, not the other way around. In any case, the endeavour of magic had my respect, if the profession’s users didn’t.

Only the faint scrape of paper on paper could be heard in the library as I wondered idly what sort of magus Twilight would turn out to be. Though most were inevitably drawn into the Art as abusers and users of the power, I had to admit, there had been some exceptions. Some chose not to dabble too deep into magic, but they were either too cowardly to explore it for fear of the mortal danger surrounding it or they lacked the power to execute anything noteworthy. Twilight didn’t fit neatly into any category. She might become one of the rare few to create a new spell, and maybe… the first to use it for something other than greed or malice.

Finding a new spell was few and far between, magi would spend hours of trial and error trying new and inventive ways to achieve their goals. They sought to tamper with the nature of the universe, unlock secrets of devastating power, heedless of the consequences of their knowledge. If they failed in their endeavour in their lifetime, often they would record everything in a bid to maintain some level of immortality in their works.

More often than not, these spells were used to maintain corrupt power, placing the exploitive magi on top and everyone without the Art in the bitter dust. Even as they passed on, new generations of vivacious magi would pick up their foul work and eventually, one or two in each universe, would succeed in summoning a creature of power. Maybe a sprite or a spectral dissonance, but they would work their way ever upwards. Until one day… they summon a demon.

Whether or not we were the pinnacle of the spectrum, I could not say, but every civilisation that had tried to summon demons eventually fell to the intoxicating power of our assistance. In those worlds, where magi had tried summoning demons of great calibre, the worlds were desolate wastelands with nothing but glassy plains of destruction devoid of life.

Looking at her attentive affixation of artful articles on arcane accounts, Twilight, the youngest magus I had the ‘pleasure’ of being summoned to, seemed to delight in her craft. It put me off. It was one of the hundred of things that made me pause. She was not the typical magus. In her hooves, the book had a title that was barely discernible, so long had the years worn the ink and gilding off the faded letters.

I cocked my head, noticing something else.

“Hey.”

Twilight looked up.

“Where’s that book you had before?”

Twilight scanned the table with a frown. “Which one?”

Oh right, she’s read dozens, she wouldn’t know what I was referring to. “There was this book you had back in your little library-room back home. It was black with all sorts of weird symbols on it.”

Twilight rubbed her chin in thought. “Uhh…” You could practically see the lightbulb glow above her head. “Ah, right, that one. I used it to summon you.” Her ears wilted so that they splayed flat against the back of her head. “But I’m not supposed to have it.”

The thought of her actually breaking a rule seemed laughable, until I realised that summoning a demon here had caught the attention of the princess, who seemed to take the matter seriously. She was more of a rebel than I thought, although probably not to the extent she originally intended.

“Didn’t Princess Celestia take it back?” I shuddered to think what kind of irresponsible ruler would let such a thing—

“Actually, I have it right here.”

What?!

Twilight shrugged at my look. “I’m supposed to study it to send you ba—oh!” She levitated her saddlebags towards herself and pulled out the thick, black volume. Strange glyphs and symbols were embossed on the cover of what looked to be leather. The weighty tome made a thudding sound as it hit the table.

“Here it is.”

I glanced around in panic. “What are you doing? You brought it to school?! Isn’t it banned?”

Twilight blinked at me. “How can you ban reading?”

I had trouble getting my words out without screaming them. I managed a strangled croak. “No, the book! It’s dangerous!”

Twilight considered the book. “How come?”

How could I explain years of experimentation and control of demons to this child?

“Look,” I said nervously as I reached for the book, “let’s just talk about this at home—”

Twilight didn’t seem inclined to agree. Instead, she simply smiled at me like I was playing a game about secrets as she pulled back the book.

“Tell me!”

I swallowed, looking around nervously whilst trying to scowl at her. “What’s there to tell?” I shrugged, leaning against the desk with false casualness. “It’s just not a good idea to have it lying around where other ponies can get it. Do you want more of them to summon demons?”

That seemed to work. Twilight anxiously shook her head. “No, no!” She cringed. “Once was enough.”

“Good. Now why are you in such a rush to read all these?”

Twilight bowed her head, trailing a hoof over the surface of the desk morosely. “I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier and I was being selfish. I thought having you around might make a difference. Nothing’s changed. Everything is the same.” Twilight sniffed, then took a deep breath, puffing her cheeks up and pushing back against her tears. “I’m going to send you back first… and everything will be all right.”

Oh right, she probably didn’t want to send me back in the first place. Wasn’t I her first friend or something? I winced. Pseudo-friend. Flopping my head on the table, I pursed my lips.

“Well maybe I can help you there a bit—”

Twilight looked up at me, but I hastily waved my hooves frantically in negation.

“Woah, woah, I mean don’t expect much, I’m a demon. I’m not in the business of making friends. Or reading. Or doing anything to do with magic.”

“What are you in the business of?”

Ending lives. Causing mayhem. Harbinger of doom?

“Pretty much the opposite.” I thought that was obvious.

“Oh right. Uhm… the mean stuff? Like…” Her face scrunched up as she tried to remember the exact words.

I tapped the table quickly to distract her. “Let’s not get into the details. What about your doll thingy?”

“What about you going back to your home?” Twilight shot back defensively. Nice job trying to dodge the question, but I wasn’t going to be rebuffed so easily.

“You can probably figure it out, you have a week.” I flicked a dismissive hoof. “I want to solve this doll thing today.” I leaned forward, eyebrow raised. “So. Doll. What of it?”

Twilight didn’t reply. Instead she pressed her lips together and stared at me.

“Yeah, yeah, real mature. Just tell me already.”

Twilight considered it, then shook her head. “No.”

No?

I stared at her for a moment.

“Fine. How about I take a guess?” I said with an exaggerated eye roll.

Twilight watched me warily, but still kept her peace.

“You lost it?”

Her lips twitched briefly into a smile.

“Ah so you have it, but it didn’t go the way you planned?”

A flinch. Bullseye. This kid was so easy to read.

“So you didn’t reveal it, which means you thought about something before taking it out?”

Twilight doubled down on locking her face into a stiff, falsely nonchalant expression.

“Hmmm… it’s a doll, so maybe they’re getting too old for it?” I paused, studying her face. “No. Something else. Maybe you’re just too scared it’s not going to work? Ah. I see. Confidence issues. Should have seen that coming a league away.”

Twilight’s eyebrows drew together into a withering glare. “How did you know?”

I chuckled. “Reading mortals is relatively easy. You only have one spectrum of emotion.”

We did too, but I wanted to keep the mystique around us. It’s not a lie, just not the whole truth.

Twilight looked intrigued, I thought, in spite of herself.

“Really? And what do you feel, Morpheus?”

I shrugged. “It’s complicated. But apparently it’s what makes us unpredictable to you mortals.” I clapped my hooves together. “Now, back to your doll. How about we try and get it out there?”

Twilight shifted uneasily. “They’re just not into that stuff, okay? Drop it.”

There was no mistaking her tone, she really meant it. Sighing, I decided that it wouldn’t be advantageous to push the issue. Besides, Twilight was at least trying to help me get back, which was major step up compared to other magi.

Twilight opened the book and started reading it intently.

“Hey!” I hissed. “Stop that.”

Twilight stuck out her tongue at me.

“No. Besides, there isn’t anypony in the library anyway.”

I looked around. I mean this time, I really looked around. Twilight was right. The library was empty. I couldn’t see a receptionist or librarian tending to the books. Or if there were, they weren’t in my field of view. I was starting to get an uncomfortable feeling. More than usual anyway.

“Why is no one here?”

Twilight glanced up at me with an expression as if I had asked if the sky was blue.

“This is the restricted section of the library, of course.” She brought out a shiny-looking piece of paper that was coated in clear, flexible, transparent material. It had a picture of Twilight on it, looking as if she’d won the lottery, and some details written that indicated she was allowed access into ‘Level Four’ areas.

“Level Four?” I murmured. “How many levels are there?”

“Six, I think.” Twilight frowned. “Actually, a lot of things have the number six here…” Twilight pondered the idea for a moment, then finally seemed to dismiss the matter with a half-shrug and returned to reading.

“So why do you have access to the more restricted areas of the library?”

Twilight shrugged. “I was given access when I read all the materials in the bottom three levels.”

“How many books is that?”

“Oh, a few thousand or so.”

I stared at her, but she was too preoccupied with her book.

Whatever the ‘Levels’ were in this place, the book she was reading was definitely not material anybody could have access to. It was clear that Twilight had been given access to the book, and from the looks of things, it seemed that Princess Celestia was the one that did so.

Princess Celestia had her bases covered; she had her hooves in a lot of pies. Pondering the matter a bit, I wondered if Princess Celestia was the mastermind behind giving Twilight Sparkle access to a demon-summoning book. No, that couldn’t be true, she cared for Twilight too much to let her play with fire, at least that’s what I got from her.

Putting the matter aside, and growing bored with watching my mistress delve into the complexities of arcane mysteries, I decided to roam around the library. My mistress was in her element, reading about forbidden mysteries, so there was little for me to do.

I looked around, trying to find something, anything, to keep me occupied. The library had clear windows with small panes crisscrossed with thin reliefs depicting various ponies in different positions. Defiant, angry, proud, fearsome, and all manner of bold and aggressive poses that were supposed to indicate power and authority. Though one could laugh at the physical attributes that these mostly diminutive creatures had, like many that had grasped the use of magic, their formidable weaponry existed in the mind, not the body.

A small bubble of faint laughter drifted into the library, and I could see the students outside carousing and playing more than ‘researching’ as was what had been stipulated by the teacher before. It seemed that the students used this time to socialise and make friends and enemies, and Twilight here was the only one studying in the vast empty space of a restricted library. Unwilling, it seemed, to try any further to make the social effort. Poor kid.

I have seen many tragic magi, but I blamed their behaviour on their wretched personalities. I couldn’t stand the thought of even having a shred of empathy for those backstabbing, lying, power-hungry miscreants that had the gall to pull and twist another life to suit their own. Twilight was different. Her mistake was genuine, and that small, almost innocuous, detail interspersed among the filth that was the existence of magi made me hesitate.

I really wondered that if given the chance, and possibility of no repercussions, would I still want to end her life for the sake of freedom? Staring at the physical hoof that bound the spiritual essence of my form, I quickly shook my head. Of course I would. Being attached to the physical world would only mean one thing. One could never return. From my experience of the pain and suffering and the desperation of these hapless mortals, one could never ultimately gain the same pleasure as the liberation of being immaterial in the Other.

We had no thought there. No conscious. No emotions. No warring, fighting, sickness, death and struggle that underpinned the nature of existence in the life we lived.

Clenching my teeth, I took a deep breath. Of course, such a decision was purely hypothetical. I shook myself from head to hoof to dispel my nervous energy. Stupid. There’s no reason for me to feel this conflicted about something. I was a straight kind of demon. Choice here, kill there, return after due-by-date. I turned away from the window and headed back to my mistress.

Then I heard it. It was a strange sound, not unlike the sound made made by someone sitting down on a luxurious sofa. The same sound made when the padding expelled the air in a wheeze. It was a curious sound, something that could distract me from this awful circling thoughts in my head. Whatever it was, it had my attention. I headed to the back of the library, intending to investigate… and almost made it all the way back, but a tome sticking out of the shelf tripped me over and sent me tumbling across the library floor.

Crashing head first, I let out a raucous yelp and glared at the offender with murder in my eyes.

“What kind of idiot puts a book in sideways?!” I snatched at the book, almost making it fall to the ground. I caught the book, glaring at it. “If I ever find out who did this, I’ll punch them in the face, that’s a promise!”

I immediately regretted the oath. Demons were very careful about making promises. Make a promise and Demons were bound to it. Usually, I wouldn’t say something like that out loud, but the issue of mortality was bugging me, so I allowed myself that one slip. If only to vent my anger. Yes, yes, I know, the catharsis is similar to swearing and the consequences much more dire, but I doubt I’ll ever meet the stupid foal that put the book back wrong… and even if I did, I doubt I would have much compunction doing so.

A thought just occurred to me, followed by a shiver down my spine.

What if that foal was Twilight?

I winced. I’d have to honour the agreement, even if that was to myself. If that happened—

“What’s wrong, Morpheus?”

Oh how rich was Divination! The Other was toying with me, I’m sure of it…

“Absolutely, nothing!” I hid away the book surreptitiously with my hind hooves. “What happened with your study?”

Twilight wasn’t so easy distracted. She peered around me with a curiously wandering eyes.

“What are you hiding?”

I despised observant kids, did I ever mention that?

“Nothing.”

I’m an excellent liar.

“Really?” Twilight drawled, pointing between my hooves. “What’s that book, then?”

“It’s a cookbook.”

Okay, maybe I lied about being an excellent liar.

Twilight crossed her hooves and raised an eyebrow, staring at me with an unimpressed expression.

“Eh…” I trailed off, trying to think a suitable tangent to send her off to. “It’s some recipes for… something.”

Twilight laughed at my attempts. “You’re a bad liar, Morpheus.”

I took offence to that. “Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too, too, too!”

What was I? A child? Why was I arguing like this?

“Am not times infinity!”

“Am too plus more than infinity!”

“You can’t get more than infinity!”

“Yes you can! Some infinities are bigger than others!” Twilight glared at me. “You can’t get yourself out of this!”

I threw up my hooves. “Fine, it’s a book I tripped over. I don’t even know what it says!” I threw her the book, intending to just pass it to her, but Twilight copped full in the face.

“Oof!”

Oops.

Twilight grabbed the book off the ground and glared at me, tears welling slightly in her eyes.

“Erm…” I thought she would burst into tears, but the kid had more spunk than I realised.

“How did you trip over a book?” She demanded, her voice hardening slightly. “And how come it wasn’t shelved properly?”

Well that answered the question as to whether the shelving had been Twilight or not. It also answered the question of her priorities. Though she had been hit in the face, her first concern was for the book. I felt an inward sigh of relief, but I didn’t show it.

“How would I know?” I shot back defensively.

“I’m asking you a simple question!”

I rolled my eyes. “And I’m not obligated to answer that.”

“Why not?” Twilight glared at me. “Is that because you’re a demon? You don’t like answering questions or being nice or… or… just being normal?!”

I bristled. Now that was something I couldn’t let go. “Well aren’t you the stellar student? How about you take a guess if you’re so smart? Aren’t you the accomplished magus that summoned a demon? Aren’t you the one that knows everything? Aren’t you the one that’s not normal?”

Too late I knew that those words were a mistake. They were similar words Amethyst said to her during class. Whilst throwing the book at her was bad, this was somehow worse. Licking my lips, I couldn’t bear to look at her. This was not something that could be simply laughed off. This was personal.

“Why…” Twilight whispered in the silence. “Why does everypony always say that?”

I heard the faint pitter patter of teardrops as they hit the wooden surface of the library floor and the clatter of hooves as she fled the scene. I stood there. Stood there without moving a muscle.

I don’t know why I just stood there.

I don’t know why I felt so bad.

I don’t know why I didn’t stop her.

I don’t even know why I said those things.

This wasn’t something a demon did. This was illogical. Unreasonable. There were no rules or subsets or bounds. This was just being nasty without a cause.

I glanced down at the book and read the title.

Building a Foundation of Trust with your Partner

“… Damn.”

————————

The pain hit me without warning.

Groaning, I sunk to my fetlocks, my mouth wide-open in a silent scream. With a growing sense of dread, I realised that it was the pain of disobeying the order.

Feeling a strange sense of disconnect, I took up the offending volume and moved to the table that Twilight had dumped the rest of the books on. I felt the slight unpleasant tingling of discomfort from disobeying a direct order from Celestia to accompany my mistress, but that was swamped by the gut-wrenching pain of disobeying my mistress’ order.

Her order stipulated that I wasn’t allowed to harm any living thing. I had breached the order, but it was indirectly. It was verbally and mentally, but not physically, however that didn’t matter. Orders were based on interpretation. If I didn’t think I had disobeyed a direct order, then the order wouldn’t stick. That’s why magi usually left no room for interpretation, cramming as much as they could in the short space of a run-on sentence.

Twilight had been pretty broad in her definition of harm, but I hadn’t willingly disobeyed her orders.

Until now, that is.

The fact that I harboured feelings of guilt was literally painful to me. I struggled to hold myself upright and carry myself across the room. Grunting with the effort of it, I took the book I tripped over and the summoning tome that Twilight had carelessly left in the middle of a library, unguarded. As soon as I took the tome, a measure of pain vanished. The effort had left me heaving, dripping sweat and with the urge to throw up in the illustrious institute of learning that was the library. I doubt Princess Celestia would have liked it. I very much doubt that Twilight would either.

Pain gnarled my innards together, but it was considerably less painful than moments ago.

“What the dross, Zachrand!” I growled this mostly to myself. Zachrand wasn’t a real person, it’s just that the summoning pentacle appeared to be common amongst most worlds, so the name of this phantom spell architect was known throughout the demon population as ‘Zachrand’.

The only way to alleviate the pain of disobeying an order was to have my mistress forgive me. Failing that, the only way to stop the flow of pain, at least a little, is to do something for my mistress in reparation.

To her credit, I didn’t have to look very far for my mistress. She was just outside the door, sobbing into her coat. I sat down next to her, wincing at the heightened level of pain.

“Look,” I said with difficulty. “I’m sorry about all that before. I don’t know what got into me.”

“Go away.”

Well, I guess I deserved that. This was a child, after all. Pain flared in my abdomen.

I laid a hoof on her shoulder. “I really am sorry, Twilight. It’s hard for me to see you as someone different from my past owners.”

Twilight sniffed, looking up at me; she didn’t say anything, but nodded.

Encouraged, I drew out the two books. “Here,” I said, passing them to her. “You wouldn’t want just anyone to walk in and grab these, right?”

Despite herself, Twilight smiled weakly at that and nodded once again. I placed them in her saddlebag and lapsed into silence. All at once, the pain stopped, and I lurched back, more in surprise than in relief.

“What’s wrong?” Twilight asked.

“The pain.” I either groaned or grunted. I wasn’t aware. “It’s gone.”

Twilight looked worried. “Pain?”

“Yes,” I replied cautiously. “Whenever we disobey a direct order, there’s pain.”

“What?” Twilight said in horror. She twisted her head around, eyes widening so much I thought they would have popped straight out of their sockets. “Why didn’t you tell me this?!”

I glanced at her. “Well… I thought you knew.” It was true. Even though Twilight may have ignorantly summoned me, the way she gave orders fit right into my assumption that she at least knew about how orders and such worked. I should probably have guessed from the beginning. Twilight was ignorant about a lot of things about demons and summoning. I shook my head in annoyance. I should have known better.

“Are you telling me that, right now, you’re in pain because you threw a book at me?” Twilight looked on the verge of tears once more.

“Well, no, not right now!” I hastily corrected her. “It’s gone, remember? Also, the pain wasn’t about throwing the book at you, it was about—” it suddenly dawned on me “—it was about the little fight we had.”

“I’m sorry!” she said frantically. “I didn’t know.”

“Well I know that. No, no, don’t cry! I didn’t mean it that way.” I sighed. “It’s just the way things work. I just don’t know why the pain is gone.”

“The way things work…” Twilight slumped back against the wall. “I’m sorry, Morpheus. I must seem like a monster to you. Maybe I am. Everypony tells me so.”

I wrapped an arm around her. “You may be a monster.” She flinched, but I carried on. “But I am too. Don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about what others say.” I smiled at her. “It’s how I live my life.”

Twilight nodded slowly. “Maybe, but I’m really sorry, Morpheus.”

I laughed bitterly. “No, I should be the one that’s sorry.” I tapped my hooves together, thinking hard, for once, about what I had to say. “You’re the first magus that’s been different. I’ve been too harsh on you when you were only trying to help.” I stared out awkwardly trying to find somewhere to look at other than her face. “If the offer is still on the table, maybe fr-friends?” That word still sent shivers down my spine.

I held out my hoof.

And felt her grasp it.

I glanced back at Twilight, her eyes filling with tears, but a smile on her face.

“Yes,” she said. “Friends.”

Author's Notes:

Aaaaaaand some progress, in many senses!

Next Chapter: Morpheus tries to do something. Something doesn't like it. Also, Twilight accidentally a spell.

As always, my ludicrous-speed readers, thanks for reading!