It’s hard work working for Twilight. Hard... but rewarding.

Take today, for example. Even though I’d spent most of it either rushed off my feet or busy yanking what was definitely the heaviest telescope in Twilight’s collection up the side of a mountain, the sight of her grinning happily at a plan going well made it all worthwhile.

‘Well’, I adjusted, shifting the telescope on my back slightly so that it’d stop rubbing my scales the wrong way. ‘Almost worthwhile. After all: the appreciation that comes with it is never unwelcome.’

Seeing Twilight happy rather than cranky or worked up was nice too, though it always came with some drawbacks. I suppose it’s probably good to know that moving to Ponyville hadn’t changed her too much, but being woken up before sunrise just because sompony’s too excited to sleep is something that doesn’t get any easier to take with a change of scenery. I guess that’s something that’ll never change about her, though: a day that’s planned out is a day that’ll always start as loudly and as early as it possibly can.

I’ve never really gotten why Twilight likes plans so much, because believe me: if there’s one thing she likes to do more than studying, it’s making plans about studying. Or making plans about anything else, really; she’s not too fussy about what needs a plan and what doesn’t. She’ll make plans for just about everything: plans for groceries, plans for getting into bed, plans for making plans; the list - heh - goes on. About the only thing she likes more than planning is watching one come together, and boy, does she get happy when that happens.

It would explain why she looked like she was walking on air at the moment. Me, I had to dig my claws in so that I wouldn’t slip back down the surface of the mountain we were climbing. Don’t take it the wrong way, though; it’s not that the telescope’s heavy or anything like that. I just have a low centre of balance, that’s all. It’s kinda easy to tip me over when I’m busy carrying truly massive loads with my well-toned muscles. I, err, wouldn’t try and tip me over though, if I were you. I’m kinda feisty when roused. Rarr.

Someone nudged into me from the side, and I shuffled uneasily about the place whilst trying to recapture my balance. It’s just low, I tell ya: the telescope ain’t that heavy. I looked up to see Twilight giving me that bashful smile of hers.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb your balance.”

“Ah, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it Twilight.” She nodded once at me, before slowing down enough that we were walking at roughly the same speed.

“Thanks, Spike. I was just wondering if you’re okay. I don’t think you’ve ever been this quiet before; I haven’t really heard you say anything since we left the library.”

I bounced the dead-weight of the telescope up along my back. “I can’t imagine why...”

Twilight sniggered, and I joined in with a single snort of my own. “I see.”

“Yeah. Truth be told, I’m kinda more focusing on making sure me and the telescope don’t end up falling off the mountain at the moment. I’m listening in, though: don’t you worry about that. I’m getting real good at listening.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Twilight replied, a smile dancing happily across her lips. “I guess I’d better watch what I say, huh?”

“Twilight, Spike? I hope you don’t mind me butting in?” a voice like velvet interrupted. I turned and almost stumbled. It was... Rarity. “I’m afraid I don’t see why poor Spike here has to shoulder this cumbersome burden all the way to the top of this ghastly mountain. Why, exactly, couldn’t he have just... done whatever it is he does to send things whizzing about through the air to reappear in other places? Like he did with the picnic hamper earlier?”

“Well, the thing is... Spike’s not...” Twilight looked worriedly between the two of us. I sighed.

“It’s fine, Twilight. I haven’t really got the hang of directing my dragon fire yet, Rarity. I can get it in the general area, it’s just-”

“-That the telescope’s really fragile and I don’t want it getting broken because it’s materialised fifteen feet above the ground,” Twilight butted in, apparently unable to stop herself. She gave me another guilty look. “Sorry.”

“S’fine.”

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t all take a turn carrying it, though,” Rarity continued, her eyes filled with worry for... me. Oh, wow. “I mean, we could always try sharing the load for a while if you ever feel like it’s getting too heavy for you, Spike.” I almost sighed at how perfect she was, before quickly realising my reputation as Ponyville’s resident strong-dragon was at risk.

“Pssht, too heavy? Me?” I tried to stand a little straighter, causing several muscles who’d been content to mutter up until now to burst out into full-blooded screams. “Not... A... Problem... Heh.”

“Well... If you’re sure...” Rarity replied, and then she picked up the pace, leaving me and Twilight lagging slightly behind. Twilight shot one last bemused look at me before following after her. I was left alone in the middle of the group: Rarity, Twilight and Applejack in front; Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie behind me and Rainbow Dash drifting around like a restless cloud up above us. One, big happy family all going off on a family outing... kinda.

The path we were all walking along was a loose mixture of rock and soil: light enough for me to dig my claws into, but hard enough to punish me for going any further down than the surface layer. Even the slightest scuff against it would cause a small waterfall of dirt to tumble out from the offending hoof; dirt destined to either bounce up into the face of whoever was behind or scatter off the path’s edges and become a lost part of the mountain. It probably wasn’t the safest path in the world to be climbing up, but the mountain didn’t really give us much choice. Applejack had been more than adamant that trying to tackle it by any other route was a plan fated for disaster, and by the looks of it, Twilight had agreed with her.

“Are we absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent completely sure the Dragon’s not there anymore?” Fluttershy whimpered behind me, and I risked a quick glance back. She’d noticeably shriveled up and yet was still, somehow, managing to keep up with the rest of the group.

“Of course he isn’t! You can’t see any smoke, can you?” Rainbow Dash flipped down from out the sky and landed with a thump that almost sent me head-over-heels backwards. “I don’t see why you’re so worried, though. You totally laid that Dragon out last time without even hitting him! I mean, it was a good thing for him too, otherwise I would have just totally flattened him.” Rainbow swooped back into the air and began punching parts of it energetically. “There’s no way he’ll have forgotten us that easily.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Fluttershy whispered back as Rainbow Dash fought off wave after wave of invisible enemies above her. “He might not have forgiven me for losing my temper with him. Oh, I really shouldn’t have been so harsh with him. He was only trying to take a nap, after all.”

I tuned out of their conversation. I didn’t really need to hear about that time in my life again. I was, after all, being reminded of it every single time I tried to clean out around the bookshelves. Those rabbits had gotten in everywhere. By the sounds of it, Rarity and Twilight had started a conversation up ahead anyway, which was bound to be more interesting just because Rarity was a part of it.

“... So, you see,” Twilight lectured, “it was actually a time of great experimentation and discovery among earth, pegasus and unicorn ponies alike. The rise of Nightmare Moon threw up new ideas all over the place, in spite - or perhaps because - of the civil war that came with it. You know, sometimes I regret not having been born back then. The expeditions, the discoveries...”

Rainbow Dash slipped stealthily down behind Twilight and began pulling faces at her back in a crude attempt at a mocking imitation. After a few moments, she looked round, noticed I was her only real audience, grinned sheepishly at me and flew off to start harassing Pinkie. I shifted the telescope up a bit on my back, taking a bit of the weight off of one shoulder.

Twilight had moved on a bit in her talk, and I only caught a few snippets of what she was saying before my concentration had focused back onto their conversation. “... Before then Starswirl the Bearded had entire libraries dedicated to his work alone. Afterwards, he only had a shelf. I mean, that rate of advancement in science, mathematics, magic, architecture... it’s never really been matched since.” Twilight sighed wistfully, her hooves dragging a little across the ground as she became lost in thought.

“Sounds like you really do wish you were living back then: mud, boots and all,” Rarity coerced with a little smile, drawing Twilight back out of her reverie. “Not that I can blame you, of course. It might have been a messy time, but oh - was it a well-dressed one.”

“Hmm.” Twilight nodded to herself. “Most ponies back then were more willing to experiment than we are today. I guess that’s something that could only ever happen once, though.” She lifted her head up and gazed into the sky. “I mean... to a certain extent, Luna was right. Most ponies didn’t appreciate her nights; most of Equestria didn’t even know they existed. And then, after Nightmare Moon halted the passage of day and night...” She closed her eyes and, recognising the signs, I rolled mine wearily. Miss perfect-memory was about to strike again.

“We turned our eyes up; beheld the heavens...

A cascade of stars across the night’s sky -

For without intervention, no sun dawns -

And night eternal holds her sceptred sway,

Punctured by a million gleaming droplets

That hang amongst her misty, uncoiled hair.

Dark rivulets of ice and fiery dust

That constitute the breeding grounds of stars.”

“Sisterhood Lost. By Flour Weight,” Rarity interjected, a wry grin spreading across her face as Twilight shot her an astonished look. “Oh, don’t look quite so flabbergasted, my dear. You’ll hardly find anypony across all of Equestria who isn’t at least familiar with the name, though I dare say you’ll have to search a little harder to find many who can recite it off by heart. Have you memorised it all?”

“Only the parts that sound good as a quote,” I wheezed out from beneath the telescope, earning a blush from Twilight and a dazzling smile from Rarity.

“Well then,” Rarity tittered, nudging Twilight playfully. “What have you got to say in your defense, Twilight? Surely there comes a point when it’s possible to be too well prepared, hmm?”

“Well, in my defense, I wasn’t expecting anypony to bring that up.” Twilight glowered at me. I smirked back. “But it is relevant. For most ponies, Nightmare Moon’s disruption was the first time they’d ever seen the night. Ponies even started riots after Celestia took it away: not because they supported Nightmare Moon, but because they thought they’d never see nighttime again. Even after Celestia had restored the proper balance of night and day, there were still calls for longer nights and shorter days, just so more ponies could appreciate it properly.

“And that’s why we’re here: as part of an attempt to appease the populace, Celestia attempted to replicate some of the feats of Luna’s nights. The Mihorads - a meteor shower with its radiant in the Mihora cluster - were one of her first experiments, but they turned out to be too faint to be seen from anything approaching normal elevations. I’m not even sure you can see them from the top of the tallest tower in Canterlot. Up here, however” - we reached a turning, and tackled it to find AJ waiting with a smug smile on her face in the midst of a great, flat opening - “we should be able to see for miles.”

“What did I tell y’all?” Applejack called out, her smile slipping into a grin as Rainbow Dash swooped down next to her. “Told yer I’d get us all here in one piece, and a heck of a lot faster than if we’d tried Rainbow’s idea.”

“I still think sky-skates would’ve worked!” Rainbow protested, a pretend-frown on her face and a laugh struggling against her lips. “Or at least they would’ve if Twilight had actually tried looking up that magical enchantment like I’d asked her to.”

“Oooohhh!” Pinkie exclaimed as she popped up between the two of them, wrapped her hooves round their necks and pulled them into a rough approximation of a hug. “Would it have been anything like ice-skating? I don’t need to remind you how good I am at that, do I?”

“No, Sugarcube. We, err... get the picture yer tryin’ to give us.” Applejack hooked a hoof underneath Pinkie’s front leg and quickly wriggled free. Opposite her, Rainbow Dash seemed entirely unable to replicate the feat.

“C’mon, Pinkie. We’ve had the hug and everything. Let me go already!”

“Oh, sorry!” Pinkie replied, loosening her grip just enough to allow Rainbow Dash’s head to squeeze free with a faint ‘pop’. She shaked it dizzly from side to side, mane whipping out into a head-grounded rainbow as she did so.

Shaking my own head, I turned and followed after Twilight, trying to ignore the shouts and laughter of her friends messing around behind us. After a few seconds, Twilight turned and trotted straight towards me, muttering slightly under her breath as she passed. I paused, and turned to watch, lowering the telescope to the ground after it became clear she wasn’t going to stop any time soon.

Twilight spent the next few minutes pacing round the plain, her head angled upwards and occasionally bobbing back and forth as she examined the sky. By the looks of it, I guessed she was trying to find someplace to set up the telescope where it wouldn’t be blocked by the sides of the mountain or the trees growing round the edges of the opening. Eventually, she seemed to make up her mind and walked determinedly over towards a relatively clear-skied patch of rock near the edge. Heaving the telescope back up onto my back, I followed after her.

“C’mon Spike,” she called out impatiently, horn aglow as she lifted the telescope up off my back and levitated it towards her. The sudden lack of weight pushing me down caused me to lurch forwards a little, the bones in my back clicking as I went. The pieces of rope that had been holding the telescope together tumbled down from out the sky as I stumbled, tripped and fell flat on my face.

“Urrgh,” I groaned as the telescope, wrapped in a purple cloud, descended from the sky and firmly settled itself onto the rocky ground before me. Pushing myself up, I moved closer as Twilight started swinging it around, pausing every so often to twiddle and turn the various knobs and slide the counter-weights about; all the while muttering under her breath about ‘Polaris’. Deciding I probably wouldn’t be needed for a few more minutes, I turned and looked out at the view.

Night was falling, dropped onto us by the clumsy moon that was bobbing about lazily between the cloud-continents of the sky. An entire subsection of the plan had been dedicated towards making sure the air around the mountain was clear and, sure enough, if you strained your eyes you could just about make out several flecks of colour skimming in skittish patterns amongst the cloudbanks. Somepony padded up next to me, and I turned my head to see Rainbow drawing level, her slightly stiff stance and occasional agitated tail-whip indicating that I was hardly alone in watching the far-off pegasi.

“Do you think we’ll have clear skies?” Twilight asked, her head turning towards Rainbow as she casually slipped into my field of vision. “I thought I asked those ponies to make sure it was clear by eight, and it’s nearly seven!”

“Relax. They’ll make it.” Rainbow flicked her tail a little more sharply, causing a slight crack to ring out in its wake. “I am kinda worried about the eastern banks, though. By the looks of it, Sunny Skies’ been sending the beginners out in a single group again. I might have to go out and bash some skulls together later on.” She snorted, frowned, turned round and then trotted back to the rest of the group. Twilight gave a shrug and returned her attention to fiddling with the telescope. I stared at her.

Eventually, she cottoned on to my disbelieving looks. “What? Is there something on my face?” She frowned dangerously. “Has Pinkie put hoof-polish on the eyepiece again? Seriously, can she not go one minute without -”

“No! No, it’s nothing like that!” I interrupted hastily, saving Pinkie from a world of undeserving, Twilight-flavoured retribution. “It’s just... usually you get really cross when someone tries to leave something you’ve planned after saying they’ll come. Remember back when Shining Armor forgot to bring your Fancy Pants doll to that family picnic?”

Twilight blinked in confusion down at me. “Of course I do, Spike, but what’s that got to do with this?”

“Twilight, you burnt down an entire tree.” She frowned impatiently at me.

“Spike, you know I wasn’t completely in control of my actions back then: unicorn’s have really volatile magic when they’re young; it’s not like I’d set fire to Rainbow Dash now, is it? Besides, I made sure to include time in this plan for ponies being... well, being their usual, disorganised selves. Like I was saying earlier - if you were listening in like you said you’d be - the Mihorad shower really is Celestia’s rough draft of what an actual meteor shower would be like: it doesn’t really get going until midnight. As long as anyone who leaves comes back before it ends at dawn, they won’t really be missing much.”