no_vampires_plz | Entries tagged with location: books and branches library

A mark of one's destiny, singled out alone, fulfilled...

Twilight gasps and pulls out of her friends' embrace. "Wait a second, that's it! I understand now. I know how to fix the spell!"

She doesn't bother trying to explain. She just gallops back to the library, with five very confused ponies following in her wake. She picks up Star Swirl the Bearded's notebook from where she left it on the table, summons a quill pen, and starts writing:

From all of us together, together we are friends.
With the marks of our destinies made one, there is magic without end.
As she writes the final glyph, she can already feel power building. The Element stone on her tiara flares with a brilliant light, sending a pulse of magical energy through the room. The other Elements flare in response, each sending a beam of magic back toward Twilight. The sheer force of it leaves the ponies powerless to move--all they can do is stare in shock and confusion.

Twilight, surrounded by an increasingly powerful aura of magic, is likewise paralyzed and shocked--but only for a moment. It's okay, says a wordless voice inside her. This is meant to be. She closes her eyes, and waits for whatever is coming next.

The light increases to a blinding flash.

Then, abruptly, it's gone.

And so is Twilight.

===>

Twilight has been lying on her bed staring out the window for... well, Spike's not sure how long it's been. Too long, is what it's been. He has to do something to cheer her up.

"Come on, Twilight. You'll figure out a way to fix this." He gently lays a claw on the unicorn's shoulder. "These are your friends."

Twilight is silent for a long moment before she responds.

"You're right, Spike." She slides off of the bed and trots over to the mantelpiece, where an old photograph of Twilight and her six pony friends stands. "They mean more to me than anything. My friends..."

My friends...

Just thinking about them--everything they've done for her, everything they've done for each other--gives her a warm feeling inside. One that spreads through her whole body, radiating out of her like light, like magic...

"Twilight? Are you all right?" asks Spike, but Twilight barely hears him.

Everything they've done for me. Everything they've done for each other.

"I've got it!" Twilight's head snaps up. "I know what to do!"

"You do?"

Twilight grabs a jeweled chest off of a nearby shelf--the same jeweled chest that the Elements of Harmony were stored in back in Canterlot. "I may not be able to remind them of who they are," she says as she gallops down the stairs, "but I can show them what they mean to each other." She tosses five of the Elements into the chest and settles the tiara of the Element of Magic onto her own head. "They'll find the part of themselves that's been lost so they can help the friends they care about so much! Come on, Spike!"

Armed with magical artifacts and a newfound sense of hope, the unicorn and the dragon set out into the rainy afternoon.

Twilight bursts back through the doors of the library. "This is bad, this is very very bad--" She has a hunch she knows what's the cause of all this, and if she's right...

Spike is close behind her. "What's goin' on? Why is this happening??"

"Last night, when you were taking one of your seven-hour bubble baths, I got a special delivery from the Princess," Twilight explains. "It was an old spellbook belonging to Star Swirl the Bearded--"

"That crazy grandpa pony you dressed up for on Nightmare Night?"

"--the famous unicorn wizard, yes," says Twilight, gritting her teeth. "There was an incomplete spell in the back of the book that Princess Celestia wanted me to finish. I cast the spell so I could find out what it was, but nothing seemed to happen... but now I know something did happen!"

She gestures toward the display case containing the Elements of Harmony. Something is different. The colors of five of the six gems--all except for Twilight's own--have somehow been mixed up. "The spell has changed the Elements of Harmony! That must be why their cutie marks are all wrong!"

"So just cast a counterspell to switch 'em back," suggests Spike.

Twilight flips through the notebook frantically, but-- "There is no counterspell!"

"Why don't you just use that memory spell you used to fix everypony when Discord was here?"

Twilight shakes her head. "It's not their memories, Spike. It's their true selves that have been altered."

"Zecora's cure for the cutie pox?"

"That won't work either!" Twilight wails. She shoves the notebook into Spike's claws and walks away, frustrated and defeated.

"...maybe it won't be so bad," offers Spike. "Maybe your friends will grow to like their new lives."

Twilight sighs. "No, Spike. They're not who they were meant to be anymore. Their destinies are now changed... and it's all my fault."

"" (Watch on YouTube)

===>

"" (Watch on YouTube)

"Rainbow Dash!" Twilight snaps, shaking water out of her mane. "That's not funny!"

It's extremely rare for Twilight to get a knock on the door this late in the evening. When it does happen, it's usually Apple Bloom and her friends asking for help with their homework, or Pinkie inviting her to one social event or another.

Tonight, it's neither. It's a courier with a package for Twilight... from Canterlot Castle.

Twilight grabs the parcel away and slams the door so abruptly that she almost cracks the courier in the snout. It's not that she means to be rude; she's just stunned and intensely curious. What could Princess Celestia possibly be sending that she doesn't trust to be delivered by Spike's magic fire? (The fact that Spike is in the middle of a bath upstairs is beside the point. Twilight knows from experience that the Princess won't hesitate to interrupt Spike's bathtime if there's an urgent message to be sent.)

The package contains a single sheet of parchment and an old spiral-bound notebook. The parchment reads:

Dear Twilight Sparkle,

The spell contained on the last page of this book is Star Swirl the Bearded's secret unfinished masterpiece. He was never able to get it right, and thus abandoned it. I believe you are the only pony who can understand and rewrite it.

Princess Celestia

Twilight can't believe what she's reading. A spell from Star Swirl the Bearded? The Star Swirl the Bearded?? One of the greatest and most influential unicorn mages in the history of Equestria? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. A once-in-several-lifetimes opportunity. Even though it's getting late, Twilight can't resist having a look at the spell right this second.

The pages of the notebook are faded and yellow with age, but still legible. The final spell appears to be a verbal incantation--something that would have been common in Star Swirl's day, but is rarely used in modern Equestria. Magic words may be powerful, but they just aren't practical for day-to-day spellwork. Twilight frowns in concentration as she translates the Old Equestrian glyphs and sounds out the words:

"From one to another, another to one.
A mark of one's destiny, singled out alone, fulfilled."
...and that's it.

"It doesn't make any sense," says Twilight to herself. "It doesn't even rhyme." Aren't all incantations supposed to rhyme? What does Princess Celestia expect her to do with this mish-mash?

Well, there's no point in puzzling over it now. She's got a clear schedule tomorrow (mostly); she can worry about it then. With a yawn, Twilight sets the notebook down on the table and trots back up the stairs to her bed. Maybe the incantation will make more sense once she's slept on it.

She never thinks to turn around and see the flickering lights emanating from the Elements of Harmony in their glass case.

===>

"She's really alright with him staying there?" remarks Rarity after Twilight comes out of the cottage.

"That's what she said," replies Twilight with a shrug. Not that she entirely believes it, but she's not about to second-guess Fluttershy's judgment... yet.

"Personally," says Rainbow Dash, "I think we should come up with a backup plan, in case this whole 'befriending' business doesn't work out."

"Rainbow Dash is right," says Rarity. "This is Discord we're talking about, girls. It wouldn't be a bad idea to have another trick up our sleeves."

Twilight smiles. "And I think I know just the trick..."

...well, Twilight wasn't lying. She thought she knew just the right spell to use on Discord as a backup plan. But finding it is proving to be harder than she anticipated.

"That's weird," she remarks to no one in particular as she pages through The Magic of Moods: Better Living Through Mind-Changing Spells. "The spell I had in mind isn't in here. Spike, where are the other books I asked you to pull?"

"Right here, Twilight." Spike is staggering under the weight of a stack of books twice his height.

Twilight levitates the stack out of Spike's hands and lifts them up in a circle around her, flipping through each one in rapid succession. "I really want to have a reforming spell up and running pronto."

"But what if he makes the Elements of Harmony disappear like he did last time?"

"Princess Celestia cast a spell protecting them, remember?" No reforming spell in Arcana Mens Mentis, none in 1,001 Extremely Useful Enchantments, none in Extremely Advanced Magic for Eggheads. Twilight swears she saw a reforming spell in that book just last week, but--

Wait a second.

Twilight drops all the books in alarm. "Uh oh..."

"What's wrong?" asks Spike.

"Princess Celestia didn't cast a spell protecting our books! Everywhere I thought I'd find the reforming spell..." Twilight picks up Extremely Advanced Magic for Eggheads again and fans out the pages. Sure enough, someone has torn a page out of the book.

And it doesn't take an egghead to figure out who.

"Where are all my quills?!"

Twilight gallops frantically from one shelf to another, grabbing up whatever supplies she can reach. Spike is on saddlebag-holding duty, and he jumps to grab the quills that Twilight telekinetically flings in his general direction.

The rest of Twilight's friends, meanwhile, are watching from the doorway, nonplussed. Sure, getting a surprise summons from Celestia is a big deal, but isn't Twilight going just a little overboard?

"No, no, no, no--ugh! I need the Magical Compendium volumes 1 through 36! Where is it?!" Twilight yanks books off a high shelf until she finds what she's looking for buried behind them--a massive tome that Spike can barely lift.

Check that. A tome that Spike can't lift.

"Flashcards! I should make some flashcards." Twilight opens a drawer full of blank index cards and empties its contents into her assistant's arms. "Spike, I'm going to need you to quiz me. On everything. Everything I've ever learned. Ever." A beat. "That isn't going to be enough cards."

"Twilight," says Spike when he can get a word in edgewise, "calm down. It's just a test."

"Just a test? JUST A TEST?!" Twilight shrieks in Spike's ear. "Princess Celestia wants to give me some kind of exam and you're trying to tell me to calm down because it's 'JUST A TEST'??!!"

Spike cringes. "Uh...yes?"

"I'd say she's handlin' things pretty well, considerin'," remarks Apple Jack just before Twilight lets out a burst of energy that rattles the library to its very roots.

Handling it well, indeed.

Just over twenty-four hours since Future Twilight's visit, current Twilight trots back into the Books and Branches Library, tired and weatherbeaten but triumphant. Spike is there to greet her at the door. "Hey, Twilight. How'd it go with Cerberus?"

"Great!" says Twilight proudly. "I got him back and dealt with all the evil creatures that escaped."

Spike looks like he's about to reply, but instead he doubles over, looking nauseous. Twilight leans forward, concerned, only to take a scroll to the face as Spike belches up a letter. She feels a stinging pain in her cheek as the parchment hits.

On a particular spot on her cheek, at that.

"Oh no..." She dashes off to the nearest mirror, hoping and praying that her hunch is wrong.

"What's the big deal?" asks Spike as he peers at the newly arrived letter. "It's just a 'Lost Dog' flyer. I guess the Princess hasn't heard we found Cerberus yet."

"It's not that... it's this!" She turns back to Spike and points out the fresh cut on her cheek.

"A paper cut?" Spike is unimpressed. "Come on, Twilight, you really need to toughen up. Just clean it out and you'll be fine."

"The cut's in the exact same spot as the scar on Future Twilight's cheek," explains Twilight with growing alarm. "We haven't changed the future at all! The disaster is still coming!"

The next half-hour is spent frantically pacing in a circle, trying to think. "If the disaster wasn't caused by Cerberus getting loose," says Twilight for the umpteenth time, "then what could it possibly be?"

Spike snickers. "I dunno, but maybe you ought to give the pacing a rest. You've worn a groove into the floor."

"I don't have time for another one of your lectures, Spike," says Twilight testily. "This is serious!"

"My lectures?" replies Spike, nonplussed, but Twilight barely noticies.

"I did everything I could think of to change the future, but it didn't work. So maybe it's not what I do... maybe it's what I don't do." POOF. Twilight teleports over to the far corner of the room. "If I stand right here and don't move a muscle until next Tuesday, I can't possibly do whatever it is that Future Twilight wanted to warn me not to do!" With that, she freezes dead on the spot.

"Really?" Spike walks in a circle around the stationary unicorn, looking impish. "So, no matter what happens, you're not gonna move a muscle, huh? Then, maybe you won't mind if I... eat an entire tub of ice cream!"

He dashes off to the kitchen and returns with a spoon and a half-gallon tub of Strawberry Fudge Ripple.

Twilight doesn't move.

He digs in with the spoon and holds the full scoop out in front of Twilight's nose, taunting her.

She still doesn't move.

He swallows the spoonful of ice cream in one gulp, not even bothering to chew. "Mmm... so good..."

Okay, she can't let this go on. "Spike, stop," she grunts between clenched teeth. "Think of the stomachache."

"Stomachache, huh? That's Future Spike's problem." Another spoonful down the hatch, and now he's dispensed with the utensils and is sticking his snout straight into the tub.

There's a knock at the door, and Rainbow Dash, as is her wont, bursts in without bothering to wait for an answer. "Hey, Twilight, another pegasus just got back from Baltimare with an all-clear and--" She stares in bewilderment, then bursts out laughing when she spots the tableau in front of her. "What's going on? Aren't you gonna stop him?"

"She sure isn't," says Spike, coming up for air. "In fact, she's not gonna move 'til next Tuesday! She thinks it'll prevent the disaster from happening!"

"Oh, this is too rich." Dash snickers, then mock-gasps. "Hey, Twilight! There's a mouse right behind you!"

Twilight starts in alarm, but still doesn't move from the spot. Spike and Rainbow Dash both burst out laughing again. Twilight just gives the pair of them a death glare.

"Wait wait wait, let me try!" Spike grabs a quill from the nearest desk and starts tickling Twilight with it. First under her chin, then her belly, then her nose... finally, Twilight can stand it no longer, and telekinetically flings the dragon against the far wall.

She realizes this was a bad idea when Spike reflexively burps up a fireball right back at her face.

When her vision clears, both the dragon and the pegasus are staring at her in alarm. "Oh no..." moans Rainbow Dash.

"What happened." It's not a question.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, it was a total accident..." Spike babbles nervously.

Twilight is not amused. "Show me."

Dash hesitates. "Uh... I'm not so sure that's a--"

"Show me."

Reluctantly, Spike picks up the mirror and holds it up for Twilight.

"Oh no..." breathes Twilight. While her skin and pelt survived intact, her mane has been singed several inches shorter and is sticking straight up in a ragged mohawk. "This is the same mane cut as future Twilight!"

"Y'know," offers Dash, "it really doesn't look too bad..."

"I don't care how it looks! It's just another sign that the future hasn't changed! Not doing anything didn't work either!" She starts pacing in a circle again. "Oh, I wish there was a way to know what was going to happen so I could stop it..."

"You want to see the future?" Spike rubs his scaly chin thoughtfully. "I might know somepony who can help..."

"Future Twilight?"

Twilight blinks rapidly to clear the spots from her eyes in the wake of her future self's departure. She's once again alone in the room, with nothing but scattered papers and a scorch mark on the floor to indicate that the visitor from the future was ever there.

"Oh no! What was she trying to warn me about? Her clothes, her mane, that scar... oh, what a mess she is! ...I mean, I am... or I... will be..." Twilight gasps in sudden realization. "She must want me to prevent whatever horrible thing happens in the future!"

She turns and gallops down the stairs and out the front door. Whatever is going to happen, it's far, far more important than fixing the month's schedule.

It's been a sleepless night in the Books and Branches Library... for 50% of the residents, at least. It was already nearly midnight when Twilight discovered something alarming: while she had the entire month's schedule sorted out down to the last minute, she had neglected to budget any time for putting together next month's schedule. The past six hours have been spent going over her calendar, looking for any possible edits she can make.

The sun's just beginning to rise when she hits a breakthrough. "Ohmygosh--I think I did it!" she shouts to the empty room. "If I can find a way to read The Art of Invisibility Spells and Thornhill's Brief History of Canterlot at the same time, that could leave me a half-hour scheduling window--"

A strange breeze across her flank makes her look up. "Huh?"

There's a whirlwind rising in the middle of the room, scattering papers and books everywhere. The source of the wind seems to be an orb of pale pink light, growing in size and brightness by the second.

"What's going on??" Twilight backs away, shielding her face from the whirling papers and the brilliant light.

The orb keeps growing until it almost fills the room, then shrinks into a single blindingly bright point--