Anon learns (dark) magic


                                            >You sigh, pressing your hands over your eyes and slumping your shoulders.

                                            >Another attempt, another failure.

                                            >It was endearing at first, but now you're just tired of trying.

                                            >It's now day five of your "magical" training, and the sun is hanging low in the sky.

                                            >Since you arrived here, you've had a hard time adapting. Twilight seems to think it's a form of advanced culture shock.

                                            >That could be true, but you don't think your magical ability (or lack thereof) is the issue.

                                            >But every time you protest, she insists with twice as much vigor as before that she can "feel" the magic inside you.

                                            >Whatever the hell that means.

                                            >You open your eyes and lower your hands. The last few golden rays of sunlight filter through the windows, casting a golden glow over the room, highlighting the expectant figure before you.

                                            >Before she can say anything, you shake your head in a vigorous 'no'.

                                            >She smiles, moving to stand across from where you're sitting

                                            >"Don't worry, Anon. I did say that it would take some serious effort before we'd see any progress!"

                                            >Again with the relentless optimism.

                                            "Listen Twilight, I appreciate what you're trying to do here, but I just don't-"

                                            >"Hold on, Anon", she quickly interjects. "I need you to trust me on this."

                                            >"I know to you our world must all seem very foreign, very surreal, very..."

                                            "Magical?"

                                            >She smiles. "Magical. Exactly. Like something out of a storybook."

                                            >"But", she continues, "This is real. I know - I can *feel* the ability inside you, bubbling beneath the surface."

                                            >"I know it seems unbelievable, but you have the power. Just... one more attempt today, okay?"

                                            >"It would mean a lot to me."

                                            >She looks directly at you, forcing you to stare into those big pleading purple eyes.

                                            >Since you've arrived she has shown you nothing but kindness, and asked for almost nothing in return.

                                            >Can you really let that down?

                                            >...

                                            "Fine, Twilight, fine. You win. One more attempt, and then I'm going to get some dinner."

                                            >She jumps, rapidly tapping her hooves to the floor in what you've deemed to be her 'excited dance'.

                                            >"Great! Let's get started. I have a great feeling about this, just you wait! Today is the day!"

                                            >"Okay, we're going to try something a little different this time. I've done some reading, and several acclaimed magical authors agree that a good metaphorical understanding of magic is key."

                                            >"The first step is to ready your magical focus point. Go ahead and hold your hands out in front of you."

                                            >The first few days of 'magic school' were dedicated to Twilight finding the point in your body that magic could easiest enter and leave. As it turns out, this was your hands.

                                            >As ordered, you hold your hands out in front of you, palms flat on the undersized school desk.

                                            >"Good. Now instead of like last time where I had you try to make the magic come to you, I'm going to see if we can make you go to the magic."

                                            >"Before you say anything, just play along. Close your eyes."

                                            >You do as you're told.

                                            >"Great. Now just imagine... Imagine a blanket, laying on a bed. Imagine there's an object beneath the blanket. You just need to..."

                                            >"Well, now just imagine that the bed is reality, and the blanket is the veil that separates reality from magical energy. You want to reach for the object, which is the raw magic, and pull it out."

                                            >"S-Sorry, that sounded better in my head," she laments, "but I think you understand. Just try feeling your way around the fabric until you can just... slip through."

                                            >"And don't forget, when you're new, steady breathing is key!" she quickly adds.

                                            >She makes penetrating the fabric of mundane reality sound like something a child should be able to do... which, you have to remind yourself, children here *can* do.

                                            >Whatever. One more attempt and it's dinner time. May as well do what she says.

                                            >You start with the steady breathing. Rhythmic and consistent - something about keeping the magical energy flowing how it should.

                                            >After a minute or two of steady breathing, you start to wiggle your hands. Slowly, gently, like you're searching in the dark for a trap that might go off if you touch it too hard.

                                            >After a few pointless minutes of running your hands across the desk, you decide to change up your method. Twilight said it would help to visualize, so you begin to imagine.

                                            >First you imagine the blanket metaphor Twilight was telling you about, trying to reach and grasp for some unknown object. After several fruitless minutes you move on.

                                            >A few other things come to mind. A dinner plate, a stack of shirts, a display... None of them produce any results.

                                            >When the hell have you ever had to search for something like this? If you needed something beneath a blanket, you would just rip the blanket away.

                                            >You need to think of some time you couldn't just brute force your way to a solution.

                                            >A few more moments of rhythmic breathing, when a sudden revelation hits you.

                                            >You picture your old, shitty apartment back in your world.

                                            >You remember going to the fridge in the early hours of the morning, searching for food or drink. When the fridge light broke, you just had to get used to feeling your way around in the dark.

                                            >Visualizing a large refrigerator before you, you grab the invisible door handle and pull, reaching your other hand forwards to where the 'food' should be.

                                            >You almost jump with shock as you feel an energy brush across the tops of your fingers.

                                            >A strange sensation washes over you, a sort of stinging, buzzing sensation, like when you pull a plug out of an outlet halfway and are being electrocuted without noticing at first.

                                            >It doesn't feel uncomfortable, but it's utterly...foreign. Weird. Magical? You're not sure.

                                            >The excitement is almost too much, and your heart skips a beat. Your breathing becomes ragged, and for a split second the feeling dissipates.

                                            >You catch yourself before it can go away totally, forcing your breathing back to a steady cycle with every bit of willpower you can muster.

                                            >Keeping pace with the rhythm of your breathing, you begin to speak.

                                            "T-Twilight? I think... I think I feel something."

                                            >"That's great, Anon!" comes her excited reply. "Reach out and grab it! It won't hurt, I promise."

                                            >You're not sure if that's true, but it's too late to back out now. You stretch your fingers outwards and grasp at the energy.

                                            >The world explodes outwards, filling all of your senses. Where before you saw only darkness from your closed shut eyes, now you can see a multitude of colors and shapes.

                                            >It was like looking at the world through a wireframe filter. You could see the edges where matter intersected, glowing brightly in different colors. Instinctively you knew the colors represented something, but the actual meaning was beyond you.

                                            >Glowing brightest by far was a pyramid of pinkish-purple energy, lighting up an entire section of the room like a brilliantly shining beacon of energy.

                                            >It takes you only a few moments to put together that this energy is coming from where Twilight is sitting, and with the shape and size of it, it has to be her horn.

                                            >You realize that her horn must always be on 'this side' of the veil, considering she's always manipulating magic in one way or another. Or maybe unicorns are just like that.

                                            >Either way, you have to admit this is pretty fucking cool.

                                            "Twilight, I can see... you, and the room, and the desks."

                                            >Her voice was filled with obvious excitement. "That's wonderful Anon, I knew you could do it!"

                                            >You feel yourself smiling back, for the first time in a while.

                                            "So... what can I do now?"

                                            >"Well," she says after a few moments of thinking, "It is pretty late. We should probably just be finished for the night, and tomorrow we-"

                                            "F-Finished? No way! I mean... We've only just started, really." You try, and fail, to hide the newfound excitement in your voice. "I insist, just one thing. Something simple. Please?"

                                            >Even with your eyes closed, you can see her figure shift in place as she contemplates your request.

                                            >"Okay, okay." She throws one hoof up in mock surrender. "Since you insist, we'll try moving one step further. Why don't we... have you try lifting something."

                                            >Telekinesis? Fuck yes.

                                            "Okay, so where do I begin?"

                                            >"Well, the first step is visualization, which it looks like you can do fine. You obviously aren't really seeing the room, but rather the places where the magical energy flows around objects, or through ponies."

                                            >"All you need to do now," she continues, "Is move the energy. Since it surrounds everything, you can just...condense it together around the object you want to move, and then move it, and by extension the object."

                                            >Simple enough, right? She speaks with such confidence, as if this was as routine to her as breathing.

                                            >"One more thing, Anon." she adds. "New users often find it easier to manipulate magic by adding movements. If you try moving your hands the way you want the object to move, it may come easier to you."

                                            >She did previously mention that young unicorns would move their heads in the direction they wanted something to go. May as well give it a shot.

                                            >You slowly move your hands from side to side, noting how the energy flowed around you as you moved. Now that you have a solid grip on... whatever you were grabbing, moving the mass was like starting waves in a pool.

                                            >Instinctively you turn to your left, pushing waves of magical energy around the room. You can see, or rather feel, another desk within arms reach of you.

                                            >Using your hands as your guide, you push the flowing energy together. It begins to clump into something almost gelatinous, and you continue to manipulate and add more to it until the entire desk is surrounded in the magical energy.

                                            >Your heart races. Without having moved at all, you can start to feel - the texture of the old, faded wood. The creaking of the joints. The weak points where a little extra pressure could cause the desk to shatter.

                                            >The magical energy seeps into the wood, soaking in like a layer of wood stain. What was once several parts and pieces has come together as a whole.

                                            >Once the desk is fully soaked, you flip your hands over, palms up, and raise them upwards.

                                            >The desk shudders as it is temporarily freed from the burden of gravity, gently lifting into the air several feet.

                                            >The excitement is now simply too much to bear. You shoot up from your place at the desk and open your eyes.

                                            >There before you in a small school desk, floating several feet in the air, surrounded by a magical aura. Your hands glow with this same aura, filling the room with a beautiful emerald light.

                                            >Your smile grows wide, and for the first time in a long time, you laugh with a child-like wonder. With your consistent breathing broken the magic quickly fades away, sending the desk crashing to the ground, and for a few moments all you can do is stare at your own two hands.

                                            >You did it. You really did it.

                                            >If only you could have done this back home. You can only imagine all the cool shit you could have done with this - and you've only just started to learn.

                                            >With enough time and practice you could send shit flying around like a comic book superhero - or a fucking jedi.

                                            >You turn to Twilight, half expecting to see her doing her half-jump half-dance of delight that you've seen once or twice before.

                                            >Instead, she's staring directly at you - or maybe through you. Her mouth is half-open, caught mid word, frozen, and her eyes are wide in an expression you haven't seen before.

                                            >You reach a hand out towards her, only for her to jump back in surprise.

                                            "Everything okay Twilight?"

                                            >She says nothing for a moment, before swallowing hard and looking you again dead in the eyes.

                                            >"Anon, why... how... how can you use dark magic?"


                                            >Shit.

                                            >The look on Twilight's face is clearer now. Ears pulled back, eyes wide. Uncertainty. Maybe even fear. Obvious tension in her muscles. Hind legs ready to jump again. Horn gently glowing pink, ready to do... something.

                                            >Fuck.

                                            "H-Hold on now Twilight, I was... I only did what you told me to do, exactly how you told it."

                                            >Silence.

                                            >A few anxious moments pass. You try to hold your hands as still as possible, not sure where you screwed up.

                                            >Five minutes ago you couldn't do magic at all, you can't have messed up that badly... right?

                                            >The pink glow fades from the room, and as you gently put your hands back to your sides it hits you just how quickly your heart was beating.

                                            >In your short time here you've never seen Twilight get so... defensive? It wasn't like her at all.

                                            >She says nothing, seemingly content to observe you from a distance.

                                            "...so uh, did I do good? Dark magic and all aside, that was pretty cool, right?"

                                            >No reply. Instead the same pink glow from before envelopes the desk you just lifted. It silently and swiftly raises from the ground, gently placing itself upon the desktop you were just sitting at.

                                            >Even in the dim light of the dying evening sun, it's clear something isn't quite right with the desk anymore.

                                            >All across the outsides of the desk, and especially where its joints connect together, the desk is covered in small outcroppings of tiny gray crystals, shimmering and refracting in the light.

                                            >Despite the lack of color they're very eye-catching, casting the light in every direction as you walk a half circle around the desk.

                                            "Did I make those? What... what are they?"

                                            >Twilight speaks at last, her tone cold and even. "You made those, yes. They're crystals of negative energy. A by-product of your use of dark magic."

                                            "Are they dangerous?"

                                            >"Not when they're this small, no."

                                            >You breathe a sigh of relief. For a second you were afraid you new kickass powers had the side effect of covering shit in magical asbestos.

                                            >As long as they stay tiny they're safe, so you just have to be careful about keeping them tiny. Then you can continue to get better and learn new spells and become a cool fucking wizard like you wanted as a ki-

                                            >"Anon. This is serious. Look at me."

                                            >Twilight's commanding voice interrupts your daydreaming. She has a stern look on her face now, like a parent about to scold a child.

                                            >"Why can you manipulate dark magic? How, exactly, did you manipulate dark magic?"

                                            "I-I don't know. I really just did what you said. Seriously. I promise."

                                            >She continues to stare you down with a deep intensity.

                                            "Look I didn't... it can't be that bad, right? I lifted something, just like we wanted to, right?"

                                            >She places one hoof on her face and exhales a deep sigh, tension relaxing from her body as her lower half slams to the ground with a soft thud. She slowly begins to speak, her tone now exasperated instead of interrogative.

                                            >"That isn't the issue, Anon. The problem isn't..."

                                            >"Yes, you did good. Great job. But one of the rules of magic is that there's a light and a dark - positive and negative."

                                            >"The only creatures we know of that can naturally manipulate dark magic carry evil in their hearts, Anon. Ponies can't even sense that kind of magic without training, much less exploit it."

                                            >She pauses.

                                            >"Well, except the Princesses. But still, that type of magic is inherently... well, evil! You're not... You aren't like that, are you Anon?"

                                            >Shit. You hope she can't read minds, or she'll see the last ten minutes of you picturing yourself throwing people around like ragdolls. Still, those are just wild fantasies, right?

                                            "I'm not evil, Twi. I promise."

                                            >You flash her your best smile, hoping to get your point across.

                                            >To your relief, she smiles back.

                                            >"Okay, Anon. I think either way we're done for the day. Come back tomorrow at the normal time - I'm going to write the Princess a letter."

                                            >"Just... one thing before you go. Promise me you won't do anything crazy while I'm not there supervising, okay? Magic in any form can be dangerous for the untrained."

                                            >You hit her with the same smile.

                                            "Sure thing, Twi. I'll see you tomorrow."

                                            >The evening fall air was cool, but hardly noticeable.

                                            >Your mind was racing at a million miles a minute. It was all you could do to stop your hands from shaking, and to walk instead of sprint home.

                                            >You've just experienced the greatest discovery of your... no, of *human* history, and she wants you to fucking go home and forget about it?

                                            >Impossible. Pandora's box is open, like it or not.

                                            >It's what Twilight would do in the same situation, right?

                                            >Still, you did promise not to go crazy with it. Shit, what counts as crazy in this world? An hour ago crazy was doing magic at all.

                                            >You push the thought from your mind. Priority one : get home. Priority two... do something impressive.

                                            >You take off at an impressive half-jog through the winding village roads, not pausing to make small talk and especially not pausing to get dinner.

                                            >You push open the small wooden door to your abode and enter so quickly you almost forget to duck.

                                            >Home. Or what passed for it - it was basically a kitchen and a bedroom. At least ponies seemed to love vaulted ceilings, saving you from having to crouch indoors.

                                            >Yet another kindness you probably didn't deserve. It might be small, but it was free.

                                            >Well, free for you. After some discussion upon your arrival it was agreed your official job title would be 'diplomat', representing humanity. Until now that didn't mean anything, but...

                                            >Now is your chance. A chance to be someone - a chance to show ponies what humanity is capable of. To repay their kindness.

                                            >To show Twilight something worth her time.

                                            >All you had to do was become a badass wizard. Then you can... maybe travel around solving ponies' problems, or something.

                                            >You move to your bedroom. Bed and bedside table.

                                            >Perfect. The bedside table was a bit smaller than the school desk, but of solid construction. A welcome-to-equestria gift from a local carpenter.

                                            >But what to practice? Lifting objects was great, but that won't impress Twilight - she's already seen it. You think back to the first few demonstrations she performed for you.

                                            >...teleportation. Thank god you actually paid attention despite your skepticism - she said teleporting an object was surprisingly easy.

                                            >Okay. Time to focus.

                                            >You focus. Eyes shut, like before, breathing in and out. Slowly, repeatedly. Palms down, hands held outwards.

                                            >You make the same motion from before. The same almost-electric feeling tickles your senses, and you grab on with a newfound vigor.

                                            >Once again the world explodes into brilliant colors and shapes, and the unseen world was placed before you.

                                            >The minute creaking from the bedframe holding up the mattress... the small gap in your window where air and magic both flow into the room... the energy pooling in the birds outside your window planter, gently forcing itself in and out as their tiny hearts beat.

                                            >You could probably do this forever, pushing your senses outward in every direction until you've covered the planet... but now was no time for that.

                                            >Once again you gently move your hands, like a child wading through a shallow pool, pushing ripples of energy towards your bedside table.

                                            >Every intricacy of its construction became apparent to you, from the fineness of the woodgrain to the cold metal of the screws holding it together.

                                            >Once the object was fully surrounded in magic, you again condense it together, soaking it into the object as best as you can, forcing it into every crack and crevasse.

                                            >Now was the time for intense focus. Twilight had told you that teleportation was about focusing on an object's potential.

                                            >If an object *could* be somewhere, you just have to imagine it in that position. Then you... how did she put it.

                                            >You push the object from reality into the magical realm, and when it pops back out it will be where you wanted it to be. Allegedly the magical realm doesn't like having matter in it, so the entire process is almost instant.

                                            >Focus. Breathe.

                                            >With the table soaked as full as you can get it with energy, you start to imagine it being on the other side of the room. In your minds eye it takes shape.

                                            >Same table. Same wood, same metal, same construction. Just a few feet in a different direction.

                                            >It *will* be in the new space. It has no choice in the matter. You have already decided.

                                            >You breathe, and, in an instant, make a pushing motion with your hands, forcing a tidal wave of energy towards the table.

                                            >As soon as the wave hits, there is a bright flash of emerald green light, so bright you can see it with your eyes pushed shut.

                                            >As the glow fades, you open your eyes back up and look around.

                                            >The desk is now sitting in the far corner of the room, exactly where you told it to be. You - You gave the *universe* a command, and it listened.

                                            >The same wave of elation from before washes over you, and you erupt in laughter.

                                            >Again, you can't help but stare at your own two hands. If only you knew about this before... god, you have to make up for so much lost time.

                                            >It was like your entire life was spent underground, and you've only now seen the sun.

                                            >Never mind that the table's sides are all covered in a fine layer of refractive gray gemstones. The biggest one was no bigger than your foot, and that was still pretty small.

                                            >Besides, when you really focus on them, magic flows through them just like anything else. Better than other things, in fact.

                                            >Man, Twilight is going to be so fucking impressed.

                                            >But the night is still young. What else can you work on? You promised her you wouldn't do anything crazy, after all.

                                            >Damn, should have borrowed those spell books when offered.

                                            >Maybe you should just focus on the teleporting thing.

                                            >For all your confidence, it was a little early for you to try teleporting yourself. That could go... very wrong.

                                            >But maybe...

                                            >Your eyes turn back to your window, and the small birds outside on the planter.

                                            >...

                                            >It's just a bird, Anon. The cows might talk here, but that's just a bird, nothing more.

                                            >...progress demands sacrifice.

                                            >You close your eyes again, feeling the magical energy worm its way through the cracks around the windows, into the outside air. It really was everywhere at once.

                                            >You gently begin to push and pull the strands of energy around the animal, working energy into its feathers and claws. Even with your eyes closed you can tell the bird is a brilliant shade of blue.

                                            >You condense the energy more and more, surrounding the bird in a ball of magic, forcing it into a thickness like sand.

                                            >As the magic reaches the bird's beak, it begins to flow inside, building and pooling both inside and outside the bird, replacing its natural magical energy with the stuff of your own command.

                                            >New feelings wash over your body. You can feel the outside air currents, smell the nearby flowers, feel the power of the bird's impressive flight muscles...

                                            >Your eyes shoot open in an instant. Something is wrong.

                                            >On the other side of the window, the bird stares back at you. Its eyes are glowing with the same emerald color as your magic from before, small wisps of purple energy bleeding away and dissipating in the wind.


                                            >Relax, anon, relax. Breathe. Release the tension in your muscles. Lay down.

                                            >The bed is soft, and the night air is cool and gentle. Ideal conditions in any other circumstance.

                                            >Breathe. Stop overreacting and breathe.

                                            >You're not in trouble. Nobody knows what you've done except you. Nobody's gonna fucking ask. Relax.

                                            >Look at the clock on the wall. 4:30 AM. How much time have you wasted? Twilight was going to want to meet at 8.

                                            >Fuck, if Twilight finds out...

                                            >Shit.

                                            >You force yourself up out of bed, quickly pushing yourself outside your home and around the back.

                                            >The streets are quiet. Thank god.

                                            >Around the back. Casually walk towards the planters.

                                            >One bird. Dead. You grab it and shove it in your pants pocket.

                                            >Heart pounding, you look around. No witnesses. Step two.

                                            >You head in the nearest direction out of town. Time to ditch the evidence.


                                            >It was an innocent mistake, really. Honest.

                                            >As soon as you were about to attempt to teleport the bird, for the slightest, most minute of moments, you could feel...

                                            >Well, probably what the bird was feeling.

                                            >It was horrific at first, but so... exhilarating. The feeling of the flight muscles, the beating of the heart...

                                            >It was very... personal? It was just a bird, but instinctively you could feel your heart trying to match its own beating.

                                            >Instinct. You've used that word a lot recently. Somehow, what you do just feels... right. Like you've known all along.

                                            >Just had to have the blindfold removed first.

                                            >The more you filled the bird with magic, the deeper your connection became, until it was full to bursting.

                                            >Every little ounce of that tiny body was filled with and enveloped by your magic. Only then could you feel even deeper.

                                            >Little tiny pulses. Little jolts, little shocks. Like tiny bubbles passing through a stream.

                                            >You could reach out and grab them, popping the bubble in your hands. New feelings would wash over you - desires. Needs. Feelings.

                                            >Through your magic, you could read the very thoughts of the creature, or what passed for thoughts in it.

                                            >The little bubbles of desire that would boil up from the brain and pass down into the limbs as actions - you could pull them out of order and stop them.

                                            >Force the little animal to hold its breath, by grabbing all the breathing bubbles. Stop it from flapping its wings by pulling out the desire to fly.

                                            >It wasn't enough. After a few short hours of experiment, you could turn your own wants, own desires into these same little bubbles, and put them into the bird's brain, working your own needs into its system.

                                            >Money. That was always an easy desire. Just think about those glorious little golden coins hard enough, and the bubble of want would form.

                                            >Grab it out of you, force it down into the little bird brain, and off it would fly. Moments later it would return with a little gold coin fiercly gripped in its claws.

                                            >Shared desire. You desired... well, anything. And the bird desired to serve you.

                                            >What a pair you two made. Until you had to go and fuck it up.

                                            >A deep curiosity killed this animal. A dark desire to see what would happen if you pulled out every desire, every action, forced them all out of the system at once.

                                            >Like turning off the flow of water to a hose.

                                            >Instant brain death. You were no doctor, but you were sure that would be the cause of death. You pulled the plug, and the system can't reboot.

                                            >The heart was still beating, if you made it beat. The lungs would still pump air, if you desired them to. But no more natural signals would come from the brain - only the ones you put in yourself.

                                            >Yeah, you fucked up good. So much for not doing... whatever you promised Twilight you wouldn't do.

                                            >Playing god was exhausting. Or maybe you put too much of your own energy out there.

                                            >Either way, getting your shoes dirty outside of town at five AM was not exactly where you wanted to be.

                                            >No evidence. The little pastel equines of this world didn't seem to have a violent bone in their bodies, but when they got upset...

                                            >You've met Twilight's friends. The little yellow one would probably invent a new method of torture if it found out you killed a bird.

                                            >Torture and rape. You shudder at the thought. Not to mention what Twilight would do when she found out you abused magic like this.

                                            >Fuck, and she already made plans to tell the princess all about you. That fucking narc.

                                            >You're not going back to being blind, that's for goddamn sure.

                                            >End of the line. You're a good ways out of town now, where the trees are natural and unkempt.

                                            >You haven't seen much in the way of predetor species around here, but you figure they have to exist.

                                            >You take the dead bird out of your pocket. Don't most serial killers hurt animals too? Try not to think about it.

                                            >You toss the bird's body uncerimoniously on the ground. No loose ends.

                                            >Heel-turn, you make your way back to town at a brisk pace. The sun is just beginning to crest over the hilltops in the distance, giving the sky a pink-orange glow.

                                            >How long have you been outside?

                                            >The adreneline rush is over. Lethargy is seeping in, and your vision is blurring. Walking back to town is a challenge, even on the flat ground.

                                            >At least it's nice out.


                                            >A few hours have passed. You sit in the classroom of your makeshift magic school.

                                            >Forcing your eyes open was difficult.

                                            >Fighting your groaning stomach was harder.

                                            >The door at the far end of the room swings opwn, and your eyes snap to attention instantly.

                                            >There she is. Eight AM, on the dot, cheerey as ever.

                                            >She bounces into the room with an excited energy.

                                            >...and stops instantly as she takes sight of you.

                                            >"Oh, Anon, you look..."

                                            >Like shit. She might be too kind to say it, but you know that's the follow up.

                                            >"A-Are you alright? You don't look so good..."

                                            >You swallow, hard. Several times. Your voice comes out raspy, but you try hard to not sound too intimidating.

                                            "Fine, Twilight. Just uh... didn't sleep so good. That's all."

                                            >You smile for added effect. She frowns, and eyes you with... suspicion?

                                            >"Anon you look really, really... not healthy. Seriously, are you-"

                                            "Enough, Twi. I don't want to talk about it."

                                            >Shit. That came out pretty forceful.

                                            >Twilight looks away.

                                            >"Anyway... I wrote that letter to the princess. I'll let you know when she replies... and I did some research last night on your new abilities."

                                            >She doesn't sound as confident as her normal self.

                                            >"Magic, as far as we currently understand, is built in layers. Like... Like a rainbow."

                                            >"The first layer is reality, which anypony can interact with. Second is the magical realm, which everypony interacts with, but mostly indirectly."

                                            >"The third layer is... like a dark layer. The opposite of the regular magic layer. Most ponies can't even detect it, much less interact with it."

                                            >"In theory there could be more beyond that, but we don't know. What matters is that you... somehow are skipping layer two and going right to layer three."

                                            >Cool, you guess. But you really aren't in the mood for a science lesson.

                                            "Great, so... what does that mean for me?"

                                            >"The implications are limitless, but I guess the biggest thing you probably care about are the limits and dangers of your new powers."

                                            >"I won't demean you with the 'magic for foals' books, but I really do need to warn you. Magic is inherently dangerous to the untrained, and yours is... especially so."

                                            >"From what we can tell, a lot of the time when dark magic is used, it will result in the growth of dark crystal formations."

                                            >"These formations are chunks of raw dark magic that force their way into the material world. They're not dangerous to you, but..."

                                            >"Well, they are dangerous to ponies. The more of them, and the larger of them in an area, the less normal magic will work."

                                            >"Since all ponies are inherently a little bit magical, it could have devastating consequences if they start appearing uncontrolled."

                                            "...and what does that mean for me?"

                                            >"Well..."

                                            >A pause. You can see the indecision in her posture - little hoof taps on the floor, uncontrolled tail twitches, a flick of the ear.

                                            >"... in theory they should be able to work as conduits for your magic, empowering you when you're near them."

                                            >"There's a similar method to empower regular magic use too, but it's not-"

                                            "That's great, Twi. Anything else, or can I get out of here?"

                                            >She walks to you, getting uncomfortably close.

                                            >Yet again she looks at you with those big purple eyes.

                                            >"Anon. Please, tell me what's wrong."

                                            >"You're not just sleepless, Anon. I know you've done... something."

                                            >"Look for yourself."

                                            >Before you can respond, her horn glows. Your own reflection is displayed before you, as if in a magic mirror.

                                            >Your eyes have deep, dark circles around them from the lack of sleep, but...

                                            >Well, shit. She's got you now.

                                            >The whites of your eyes have turned green.


                                            >Caught.

                                            >Caught red handed.

                                            >The tiredness in your body seeps outwards, replaced with the cold chill of icewater flowing up your spine.

                                            >Your own reflection gave you away. The world spins gently, and you feel as though the air was just punched out of your lungs.

                                            >She's saying something now, but you can't hear. Your ears are filled with an overpowering ringing.

                                            >It takes a tremendous effort to not immediately begin hyperventilating.

                                            >Still, the excess energy has nowhere to go, and your extremities start to twitch and shake in anxiety.

                                            >Every muscle fiber in your body is dialed up to 11, ready to explode into action.

                                            >Heart pumping, lungs filling, blood rushing.

                                            >Fight or flight mode : activated.

                                            >You brace yourself, and prepare to...

                                            >Reality snaps back into place. You're sitting in an undersized school chair, in a nearly empty classroom.

                                            >There is no danger. Get a fucking grip Anon, you're losing it.

                                            >You swallow. Again. Hard. Your mouth and throat are dry.

                                            >Alright. No fight, and probably no flight. You opt to do a restless leg bounce instead.

                                            >You still feel tense. The light in the room feels harsh, and you're quickly developing a splitting headache.

                                            >Twilight is staring at you expectantly, and the worry in her eyes is obvious.

                                            >She knows, yes, but she doesn't *know*.

                                            >"Anon!"

                                            >Her yell registers, and your muscles preemptively flex in readiness to run.

                                            >"You aren't listening. This isn't like you, and I-"

                                            "I'm fine."

                                            >The words are dry, an ingrained mechanical response to danger.

                                            >You feel bad cutting her off, but you would feel worse letting her continue.

                                            >"What? You still aren't listening, I asked if you-"

                                            "Really. I'm fine."

                                            >The words are forced out of you with great effort. She remains unconvinced.

                                            >What's worse, your words seem to have had the opposite desired effect. She's watching you carefully now.

                                            >The occasional twitch of a hind leg or flick of the tail letting you know she's on edge too.

                                            >Think, Anon, think. How can you get out of this situation, and fast?

                                            >...

                                            "... I'm leaving."

                                            >Before she can protest you're out of the seat and halfway across the room, moving in one fluid motion.

                                            >Flight was a great idea after all. Good ol' instinct never lets you down.

                                            >You cross the width of the room in a few huge steps, and reach for the door.

                                            >Grab. Pull.

                                            >The door, now surrounded by a brilliant pink-purple aura, refuses to yield.

                                            >You're trapped, like a cornered animal.

                                            >You spin on one foot. Your jailer stands across from you, horn glowing bright.

                                            >Fuck. You should have acted minutes ago - or maybe you should have stayed home.

                                            >This time you cannot control yourself. Rapid breathing sets in as you clench your teeth together as hard as you can.

                                            >There has to be a way out.

                                            >You vaguely note her speaking to you again, but the words don't register. It's like she's talking through a body of water.

                                            >Think, damn it, think. The door is shut by magic. The windows could be too. Hell, she could just stop you in your tracks if she wanted to.

                                            >It all comes back to her.

                                            >She opened your eyes to this incredible power, and now regrets it. She wants to take it back.

                                            >Shove you back in the cage of normalcy. Condemn you to not being able to be the best 'you' you can possibly be.

                                            >She thinks she can play god and get away with it.

                                            >Fuck that.

                                            >Inexplicable anger bubbles up from deep within your gut, worming its way to the surface.

                                            >Your vision swims, and you see red. As your righteous anger intensifies, so too does your connection with the energy around you.

                                            >The near-electric feeling in your hands from before has become a burning heat.

                                            >You dip your hands into the purifying fire of magic.

                                            >In one violent motion you ball your hands into fists and rip them upwards, tearing through the empty air in a wild uppercut.

                                            >Reality is momentarily ripped, and through the new hole pours out a stream of pure dark energy.

                                            >In an instant the energy hardens and crystalizes, forming a set of large gray spikes that look like they've exploded out of the floorboards.

                                            >The hole is sealed shut as reality corrects itself, leaving behind a large crystal formation surrounding Twilight from every side.

                                            >The glow on the door behind you fades instantly.

                                            >You can feel the magic in the room adjusting to the new formation. Where before it would creep into everything, from the walls to the desks, it simply flows around the dark crystals you've created.

                                            >A solid anti-magic barrier.

                                            >On the other side you can almost hear Twilight yelling. Time to abandon ship before she can figure a way out.

                                            >You open the door behind you and run for it until you can't hear her yelling anymore.

                                            >Get fucked, bitch. Should have been more careful talking about what the magic crystals do.

                                            >You run. With no direction in mind, unconcerned about who might see, you run until your body gives out.

                                            >Which, as it turns out, is pretty quick. The weight of being awake for over a day straight is starting to become too much to bear.

                                            >You stop to catch your breath, but quickly double over in exhaustion. Sweat drips down your face, running into your eyes.

                                            >Your vision is swimming, but your brain is working overtime.

                                            >Where to go from here? Exhaustion would have you flop into bed, but home is the first place they'll look.

                                            >A little nagging voice in your head tells you you're pretty much a fugitive now. Can't stay any one place for too long.

                                            >But the tiredness will lead to carelessness. One mistake is all it will take.

                                            >Think, Anon.

                                            >Focusing is hard. Now that you know what to focus on, the magic around you is almost telling you what you need to hear, but you have to strain to listen.

                                            >Just listen and think.

                                            >What can you do, really? You can sorta teleport objects. Still have not tried on self.

                                            >You can move things, with minor side effects. You can make giant crystal growths that mess up normal magic... if that's reproducable.

                                            >And you can force your will on other creatures... sorta.

                                            >Is it will, or energy? With your bird it was just a matter of plucking out the impulses you didn't like and replacing them with your own.

                                            >If you could do that again, maybe you could... offload your tired feelings on something else.

                                            >Somepony else.

                                            >A plan begins to take shape in your tired, paranoid brain.

                                            >You just need a... willing participant.

                                            >The town is full of friendly equines, how hard could that be?

                                            >Aside from the fact that you're obviously a wanted criminal who cannot show themselves.

                                            >Damn. Sneaking is neither your strong suit nor your style.

                                            >Desperate times.


                                            >The town is busy at this time of day. Colorful pastel ponies going about their daily lives, skipping and flying and being jolly.

                                            >They're joyous in their collective damnation of you. Happy little conspirators proudly going about their day like they don't have your execution to watch later tonight.

                                            >Your press your hands into your face and breath heavily. Every second you keep your eyes open is increasing agony, a searing pain growing exponentally.

                                            >Twilight had mentioned in the first few days that magic use was energy-intensive. Part of the reason ponies have such high sugar diets.

                                            >Though on retrospect that could have been another lie to weaken you. Her evil intent should have been obvious from the start, but you were blind.

                                            >No longer. Nothing can hide from you now - even if you have to get the truth from the source.

                                            >You slap yourself a few good times, and the brain fog momentarily dissapates. Time to act.

                                            >If they want to pretend they're not out to get you, then you're gonna milk them for their acting's worth.

                                            >You slide out of the shadows between homes and make your way down the street, a trillion pairs of eyes watching your every movement.

                                            >Keep it calm. Keep it casual.

                                            >The sun is harsh, but you are determined. Nothing will stop you.

                                            >Rounding the street corner brings several stalls in view. Fruit and vegetable vendors.

                                            >Target spotted.

                                            >You approach the stand. Behind the stall counter a salesmare fakes a smile at you.

                                            >You've met before. Her name is... irrelevant.

                                            >She begins her fake chipper buy-my-stuff spiel you've heard a hundred times before.

                                            >"Hiya Anon! Looking for the usual? Or are you... Hey, you okay?"

                                            >The false concern doesn't even register. You're already manipulating the magic surrounding her, filling her with energy she can't even begin to understand.

                                            >Full to bursting. Another wave of energy pours into you - new thoughts, emotions, feelings, desires.

                                            >You're prepared this time. They're quickly ripped out and thrown away.

                                            >You turn your focus on yourself. Little prickly jolts shooting up from your muscles, into your spine, towards your brain.

                                            >Little tiny exhaustion signals. Thousands firing every second, filling your brain's precious receptors with one word : Tired.

                                            >You form the magic into a net, swinging it around in your own skull. Now that you're aware of the energy's presence, you can almost feel it, like a layer of slime pushing itself around back and forth behind your eyeballs.

                                            >The bundle of energy collected, you push it the only place it can go : into the shop mare.

                                            >Results are instantaneous. Whatever she was about to say hangs in her mouth.

                                            >Her eyes flash green for the slightest moment before shutting, her face slamming forward into the backside of her own stall as her legs buckle and give way beneath her.

                                            >You, on the other hand, have never felt better. You feel like you've slept a full twenty hours, just showered, and had a massage.

                                            >Maybe you passed on more than just the tiredness signals, but whatever. The result is the same.

                                            >You won't let it get this bad again. As long as other creatures are around, you can sustain.

                                            >Now you just have to figure out what to do from here.


                                            >Take stock of the situation. Think and relax.

                                            >With your fatigue temporarily taken care of you have a moment to consider your options.

                                            >Twilight was probably able to free herself. If you were evil like her you would probably be getting ready to hunt yourself down now.

                                            >Shit, how can you prepare. This is their world, you have nowhere to run.

                                            >Can't go home. You must begrudgingly admit that Twilight is sharper than average. Home will be where she looks first.

                                            >What you need above all else is just... a friend.

                                            >Just a friend.

                                            >Friends.

                                            >An idea takes form.

                                            >Your magical abilities are new and weak, but...

                                            >Most of these ponies are... open to suggestion.

                                            >If those suggestions are a little more... forced, well, they're also awfully accommodating. They won't mind.

                                            >Your mind is made. Time to make some friends.

                                            >You spin around on one heel. Still in the middle of a semi-busy market square in the middle of the day.

                                            >No witnesses to your encounter with the shopmare who is now peacefully sleeping.

                                            >Just a regular day. Clear blue skies, fresh clean air. It doesn't even feel like you've been awake 26 hours.

                                            >Step one : identify and approach pony.

                                            >You settle on a mint green mare with saddlebags filled with fruits and vegetables. All alone and done shopping. Perfect.

                                            >You stride up towards her and smile, trying your best to appear nonthreatening.

                                            >She looks surprised, then shocked. She opens her mouth to speak.

                                            >Bingo. With her mind distracted it's already too late.

                                            >You worm your magical tendons in, writhing the magic downwards through her unicorn horn and into her brain.

                                            >You form a similar connection to before. This time instead of giving her your feelings of exhaustion you pass on your wants and needs, discarding hers like trash.

                                            >The process is instant. You watch in real time as her eyes dilate and body stiffens as she adopts to her new role. Plans for tonight's dinner are wiped away and replaced with plans for your survival.

                                            >Welcome to the club, new best friend.

                                            >Best friend stares at you with a vacant look.

                                            >Right. Orders.

                                            >What to do with a loyal friend?

                                            >You clear your throat.

                                            "All right... best friend. I want you to lead me to your home."

                                            >Best friend's muscles mechanically snap to attention, spinning in place 160 degrees and robotically marching off.

                                            >You can't help but laugh as you follow. A joyous whimsy bubbles up from your chest, like a child who was gifted a new toy.

                                            >Best friend leads you to a small, unassuming home in the middle of town. Pushing open the door you're greeted with a well lived-in home.

                                            >It's... nice. But very small. Still, beats getting caught by Twilight.

                                            >Best friend is standing at the doorway, eyes glazed again, waiting at attention.

                                            >One friend is great, but if you had a few more...

                                            >You smile again.

                                            "Very good, best friend. Bring me another pony."

                                            >As soon as the words leave your mouth the mare is off, galloping through the city streets to some unknown destination.

                                            >You could get used to this.

                                            >But there is work to be done. You move towards the table in the room, clearing everything on it off, knocking picture frames and various fruits onto the floor.

                                            >The dark crystals from before served to intensify your magic, and helped you trap Twilight. Making more could be invaluable.

                                            >You once again relax your muscles and focus. It's getting easier and easier now as you let the magic take hold and do the hard work for you. Even your breathing, once carefully regulated, you now kept in check by having the magic pump your lungs in rhythm.

                                            >Focus the energy. Feel it ebb and flow. Force it towards your fingers and pack it tightly around the wood.

                                            >Press in more, and more, and more, until the entire mass is more magic than wood.

                                            >Feel the highest points of concentration and stack even more magic on top. Layer by layer you pull strings of dark magic out of the immaterium and feel it harden.

                                            >Eyes open. The desk is covered in thick layers of shiny crystals, ranging from a light gray to a deep inky black.

                                            >As they catch the light streaming through the windows they cast deep purple and green projections around the room. You feel deeply at peace.

                                            >The energy flowing around the room is palpable. It is as though you spent your entire life standing and have only now had a chance to sit and catch your breath.

                                            >The door swings open, and you snap back to attention, ready to fight.

                                            >...It's just best friend. Behind her she is dragging along another mare, this one cream colored with pink and purple hair accents.

                                            >Excellent. Without even moving from your position you're back to manipulating the magical force, worming your way into this new friend.

                                            >It's over in a moment as the utterly unsuspecting pony is converted into a loyal follower. Welcome to the fold, Best friend 2.

                                            >Best friends 1 and 2 stand at attention, ready for new orders.

                                            >If you're going to beat Twilight, drastic measures must be taken.

                                            "...Well? What are you waiting for? Go get us more friends!"

                                            >They're gone before you're done yelling.

                                            >This is going to be a productive day.

                                            ***


                                            >The sun is gone, revealing another starry night sky. Cold nighttime air gusts and howls through empty city streets.

                                            >You're awaiting the return of best friends 31 and 32.

                                            >Half of your loyal cabal of best friends are out and about on your orders, bringing you whatever you ask. The other half are on constant lookout for either Twilight, or new friends.

                                            >A couple may have gotten away, but it doesn't matter. Your loyal friends have your back.

                                            >Over the duration of the day you've transformed this small home into a veritable fortress.

                                            >Dark magic crystal fixtures and accents punctuate the fine pillows and silks you had you loyal friend bring you.

                                            >You lounge in your luxurious chair in the center of the room. It's almost throne-like in size (and value).

                                            >Best friend 31 and 32 were specially selected to try to track down Twilight's whereabouts. From the memories you briefly sifted through, friend 31 was a wonderbolt before he joined your team.

                                            >Pegasi tend towards being headstrong and brash. Part of having wings, you suppose.

                                            >They make for fast friends.

                                            >The safehouse door opens. You hardly react, keeping your eyes closed, enjoying the plush chair cushions.

                                            >Mechanical footsteps approach in unison. They won't fly without your approval.

                                            >Your mind is elsewhere, thinking about the delicious pies you 'requested'.

                                            >They're standing, waiting. They will continue to wait until you tell them to do otherwise. Such good friends.

                                            "Report."

                                            >"We found Twilight as commanded."

                                            "Excellent. Where is she?"

                                            >"She is on her way here as we speak."

                                            >Your eyes shoot open, and a brief flash of anxiety overwhelms you.

                                            >Fuck. This is it. This is what you prepared for.

                                            "She..."

                                            >Your voice cracks. Thank god your friends are in no position to judge.

                                            >They stand as still as stone, waiting for their next orders.

                                            "...Delay her as much as you can."

                                            >You need a bit more time, a few more friends.

                                            >You stand and start giving orders. They might obey mechanically, but your new allies are just regular ponies.

                                            >Still, you prepared for this moment. If she wants to strip you of your power she'll have to take it by force.

                                            >Ponies to battlestations. You order forward a recently joined friend - a cute orange filly - and place your hand to its forehead, transferring your exertion into the small creature, and a little burst of happy chemicals to boot.

                                            >A flutter of wings and the child falls face first into the floor.

                                            >You've got work to do.

                                            >You have traps to prepare, things to get ready, backup plans to-

                                            >A voice rings out, cutting through your focus like a knife.

                                            >"She's here."

                                            >The anxiety and panic returns in full force. Fuck.

                                            >Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Fuck. Shit.

                                            >Of course she is. You have half the town patroling around one house.

                                            >You can already hear chaotic noise from outside. The peons serving as your guards won't stop very much for very long.

                                            >There isn't enough time to get away. Not that you could keep running anyway.

                                            >Time to stand your ground.

                                            >The yelling intensifies, and from the small spaces between the curtains you catch flashes of magenta light.

                                            >Brace. Breathe. You are master of your own fate.

                                            >You wait for an eternity, thousands upon thousands of years passing by, waiting for destiny to make itself known.

                                            >The noise outside stops.

                                            >Silence.

                                            >You can hear your own heartbeat. The rushing of blood through the artery in your neck is getting annoying. The silence is overwhelmingly loud.

                                            >The door swings open, propelled by a purple glow around the knob.

                                            >There she is. Your supervillian. Your rival. Your archenemy.

                                            >When last you met, you were but the learner.

                                            >She marches into the room, fury gleaming in her brilliant purple eyes.

                                            >You've never seen her so angry. You've never seen her angry at all, come to think.

                                            >"Anon! What in Celestia's name do you think you're *DOING*!"

                                            >"Do you have any idea what-"

                                            >Time slows to a crawl. She's not paying attention.

                                            >You prepared for this. Silly predictable Twilight.

                                            >You wiggle your fingers. You already filled your body with dark energy in preperation.

                                            >Pool the magic together, condense it into a ball.

                                            >More, and more, denser and denser, packing in as much dark energy as you can.

                                            >The energy bounces around, clashing into itself, sparking and boiling, getting hot.

                                            >Like a little tiny star in your hand, you continue to condense and pour more and more energy into your hand.

                                            >The entire proccess takes less than a second, and before you know it you've hurled the entire mass towards Twilight's face.

                                            >A perfect fastball of dark energy, as soon as it makes contact with open air it bursts into charcoal gray flames.

                                            >This has to be it. You did it. No creature could survive getting hit with that much dark energy.

                                            >Faster than you can react, Twilight is already out of the way of the attack, teleporting herself several inches to the side in a flash of pink-purple light.

                                            >The ball sails harmlessly past and slams into the inside wall of the home, searing clean through the several inches thick wood and leaving behind a messy hole of burnt ash.

                                            >She looks shocked now. Her eyes dart to you, the hole in the wall, and back to you.

                                            >"Anon are you... Did you just try to seriously hurt me?"

                                            >The slavemaster looks truly shocked. Her eyes sink to the floor, and for a moment she appears on the verge of tears.

                                            >This is your chance. You can't throw anything, but maybe...

                                            >Twilight would make an excellent new best friend.

                                            >Eyes closed. Reach out.

                                            >The energy surrounding Twilight is intense, but you were ready for this too. The magical crystals you hid around the room are helping you and hindering her.

                                            >Trillions of pink stands flow in and out of her horn, as instinctual to her as blinking. She's ready for anything - so she thinks.

                                            >You push outwards and extend your will, a single ink black strand of dark energy worming its way into her horn, down and around into her thoughts and feelings.

                                            >Incredible dedication to her friends. Amazing dedication to her studies. Short snippets of her life flash before your eyes, from a childhood of studying to an adulthood serving under the Princess.

                                            >You feel her fears. Hopes. Aspitations.

                                            >But above all, you feel her love. Love for her family, her friends.

                                            >Love for you. As a teacher pours their heart and soul into teaching, she loved helping you learn. Helping you make progress.

                                            >Her letter to the princess was so full of excitement and joy.

                                            >And now, not 48 hours later, those memories produce terrible pain.

                                            >You are caught utterly off guard, paralzyed by this new information. Your brain struggles to make connections to explain how this evidence before you is fabricated.

                                            >You lose focus for just long enough. The pink tendrils of magic push back towards you, entering through your throat.

                                            >The magic fills your lungs, pushing up into your brain, down your spine, through your blood and arteries.

                                            >A magenta glow flows through your limbs, paralyzing you, and quickly surrounds your hands.

                                            >As though a blindfold was forced back over your eyes, you are cutoff from your connection to magic.

                                            >No more connection to the energy around you. You limbs feel like lead weights, and you are cut off from your remaining friends.

                                            >If you have any at all. You strongly suspect your friends are back to enemies.

                                            >Your 36 hours staying awake and exerting energy you don't have catches up to you, and your knees collapse.

                                            >As your eyes shut, your last thoughts are of Twilight.


                                            ***

                                            >Everything is freezing cold.

                                            >Your hands especially are freezing.

                                            >Your eyes flutter open, but all you see is gray and fuzzy, like you're looking at the world from under water.

                                            >You reach your hands up towards your eyes, but find you cannot. They catch on something, and you realize you are bound at the wrists.

                                            >Not only are your hands done together, they're encased in what feels like solid iron gauntlets. You can't even wiggle your fingers.

                                            >You struggle to your knees. Your handcuffs are chained to the ground by rings of iron, rusted and old.

                                            >You blind repeatedly, and as your eyes clear, you make out a stone circle.

                                            >You appeared around here back in the day. It feels like so long ago now.

                                            >A noise takes your attention. Looking around you spot the unmistakable form of Twilight in the distance.

                                            >She's speaking to her friends, and the big white one. That can't be good. The fucking president is here to...what?

                                            >Watch my execution?

                                            >You force yourself upright and steady. Every muscle in your body screams with lethargic fury. You put yourself through the ringer using so much magic so fast.

                                            >And you have a wicked hangover. Damn.

                                            >As they finish talking, Twilight and her friends turn and approach you.

                                            >They're taking their sweet time, talking amongst themselves.

                                            >You can't help but notice there's no laughter. Not even a smile.

                                            >You can't take your eyes off Twilight. She makes no attempt to even look in your direction, prefering the ground.

                                            >They're finally infront of you. You say nothing.

                                            >Twilight and her 5 friends. Maybe they could have been your friends too. You really treated them like they were only ever in the background. Didn't even give them a passing thought.

                                            >Too late now.

                                            >Twilight steps forwards. She's wearing a set of jewelry you've never seen before. They all are, actually.

                                            "Twilight."

                                            >She jumps back slightly, clearly uncomfortable with you speaking.

                                            "What is this? Where am I?"

                                            >She's silent for a moment before speaking softly

                                            >"We're back where you arrived, and we're here because of what you did."

                                            >What you did? What about what she did?

                                            >"I told you not to do anything crazy without me there, and you..."

                                            >The hurt in her voice is obvious. Maybe you did overstep a little.

                                            >"Some of those ponies still aren't acting right. We don't even understand the concequences of what you did, and you..."

                                            >"...You aren't even fully to blame."

                                            >Wait, what?

                                            >"Magic intensifies when you feel strong emotions, but... Magic also intensifies those emotions. For most ponies those emotions are positive ones."

                                            >"For you, well..."

                                            >Everything makes a little more sense. The paranoia... You really hurt a lot of people pretty quickly. Was it really for nothing?

                                            >Twilight clears her throat and continues

                                            >"So while you were out we decided that we have to do... something with you."

                                            >"The ponies around here won't trust you any more, and considering what a hard time you've had adjusting to Equestria, moving you to another country is out of the question."

                                            >"So we decided... we're going to send you home."

                                            >Your stomach drops deep into an abyss. Your knees shake and feel weak.

                                            "Twilight, I... I don't-"

                                            >"Please. Please, don't. The decision has been made and nothing you can say will change our minds."

                                            >It's over. You are truly condemned.

                                            >Before you can say another word, the six ponies before you raise into the air, surrounded by a brilliant white aura of energy.

                                            >Amazing rainbows of color and texture shoot out in a multitude of directions, a thousand beams shooting into the sky and pulling back down to form a portal between the stones.

                                            >In the shimmering rainbow light you can see cities on the other side. Lights and industry.

                                            >The shackles around your wrists glow with the same light, and fall away onto the ground. Your hands are free, but you know you are beat. The magic of this portal could literally destroy you.

                                            >You take a few small steps towards the portal before turning back.

                                            "Twilight..."

                                            >She looks at you, sadness etched in fine lines on her face. Of all the ponies you hurt, you had hurt her the worst.

                                            >You could apologize. Absolve her of her guilt. It would only be right.

                                            >You hold for just a moment.

                                            >Time stands still.

                                            >

                                            "... I hate you."

                                            >She recoils worse than any blow you could physically strike.

                                            >She's going to carry that for a long time. Maybe forever.

                                            >Your last view of those big purple eyes is filled with tears.

                                            >You step through the portal, and out of her life.


                                            Epiloge

                                            >You ended up in a corn field. An hour of walking revealed a truck stop. A 24 hour diner in the middle of nowhere.

                                            >You trudge inside and sit at a booth. The waitress is kind enough to bring you a coffee, even after you tell her you have no money.

                                            >You're a nobody, back with no goal and no plan.

                                            >You're probably legally a dead man walking. There's no coming back from that.

                                            >Your pain is intense and full-body.

                                            >But the coffee is pretty good.

                                            >Sitting and sipping. Boring and mundane. Back to normal life.

                                            >What a hell of a two-day period.

                                            >You sigh and lean into the wall of the building when something sharp pokes inside your pants pocket.

                                            >You reach in and fish around, finding something small and hard.

                                            >You pull out a little gray crystal. It feels tingly to the touch.

                                            >The electric feeling flows into your hand, and slowly creeps up your arm.

                                            >Up one side of your body, and back out the other.

                                            >The coffee cup in your hand starts to develop little gray bumps across its surface.

                                            >You flip your hand over, revealing it covered in a very weak, faint, green glow.

                                            >You chuckle to yourself.

                                            >You'll be seeing Twilight again after all.