Twilight winced as she pushed open the front door to her castle and it creaked like mad. (How could crystal creak?) It was one in the morning and the last thing she wanted to do was wake up Spike or Starlight.

The trip to Griffonstone had been exciting and had gone flawlessly, but it had also been draining and the last meeting had gone on several hours longer than Twilight had been planning on. She’d missed the last train out, and now her wings were aching and her magic was nearly spent and her bones were on fire and she wanted nothing more than to hug her mattress for the next few dozen hours.

A last-gasp spell kept the hinges from creaking again. Twilight tiptoed down the hall, trying to not make any noise. She stopped by Spike’s room and poked her head in. He was snoring peacefully. Good. She stopped by Starlight’s room, just in case she was back from her thing with Sunburst. Starlight was sleeping peacefully. Good.

In her own room, Twilight sighed with relief as she finally got the saddlebags off her aching back. She rolled her shoulders a few times, trying to work out any kinks so they wouldn’t build up as she slept. It felt so good.

But right before Twilight climbed into bed, she noticed something new on her nightstand. She ignited her horn; it was a small stack of parchment, each piece covered in Starlight’s writing. Her friendship report. It was almost enough to drive the weariness away, but Twilight was much too beat to actually read the whole thing through.

Well, at least she could see the title, get an idea of what Starlight had learned. Twilight brightened her horn and squinted at the big letters up top.

Twilight blinked at the second title, then shrugged and chuckled. “From anypony else,” she muttered as she released her spell and toppled into bed, “that might seem suspicious.”