//------------------------------// // IX. The Tower Part I // Story: The Nightbook // by Sunset-Chan //------------------------------// Morning came the way it always did, with her clock ringing, and, like every morning, she opened her eyes to the nightly dark. For a moment she lingered, trying to fight the sound, to get back beneath her covers and to that place only she bothered to visit. What exactly she was trying to accomplish she didn’t know, and with every second that passed the sound grew louder, and anxiety made itself felt. Memories drifted across her mind, of things to do and things she hadn’t done. I still have a purpose, she thought and finally made herself move, tossing the covers aside and lifting her legs off the bed and unto the floor. A freezing sensation took over as she did so. Applejack felt herself shrinking with a shiver. Need to light the fire, don’t want Apple Bloom or Granny to wake up in a cold house. Groggily, a smile forced itself onto her face and she put down her hoof on the alarm, silencing it instantaneously. A few seconds of silence remained to her, a few seconds of darkness and the last shreds of night. Her entire body was screaming at her to move back into bed. It was cold, the air was thick and outside a storm was raging. She heard it from even here: How the snow pressed itself against the windows, how the wind went in through little holes that would otherwise remain unnoticeable. Applejack had to admit, she tried to pretend as if the outside didn’t matter to her. No, even worse (or better), due to the outside being ruled by ice and and the cold dance of the snowflakes, the pony found an unnatural appeal in just throwing herself back under the covers. Other ponies probably would have agreed with that mentality and yet she did the one thing every sane part of her wanted to avoid: Applejack stood up and started towards the window, every step reminding her of the winter, and cast the drapes aside. She was greeted by a world of white outside, with the snows obscuring most of her view, and what little she could have seen was hidden by the nightly dark. How many ponies would even dare to step beyond their doorstep at a time like this? She wondered only for a second, turned around and moved herself to the door, forcing herself to ignore the call of her bed. With but one motion she opened her door and left the dark of her own room behind. She moved through the corridors of the house on auto-pilot, since every nook and every hole within these walls was known to her. Only once had she ever left Ponyville, and this farm too. Only once – well, twice now – she had thought about leaving and never coming back. Sometimes she wondered if it was really her talent that made her stay or something else. Obligation, maybe? Or duty? Quickly lifting her mind from her own thoughtscape, she found herself before Apple Bloom’s door. Every day, just before sunrise, this was her first duty. It was something she had done since Apple Bloom had been a little foal, since they had left. Just like every day before this one, she pushed open the door, quietly moving her head through it and took a peek. Tidy was the perfect word for this room, like any other in the house, but it had a certain characteristic to it. Be it furniture, or arrangement, a pony could easily see that the youngest member of the family lived here. Well, anypony but Applejack. Every day she peeked through this door and every day it was one day more, one day farther away from when she had first cradled the filly in her arms and smiled up at her father. Funny, to think of him still hurt. If it was the same for Big Mac and Granny Smith? She clenched her teeth, tried to focus. Applejack closed her eyes, trying to listen. The wind roared outside, yes, but that she knew. It wasn’t the noise she wanted to catch. Every day she listened in on Apple Bloom’s breathing. Hearing something so peaceful and calm was a good start for any day, Applejack found, and yet, there was no breath in this room. None but hers. After a second more and she opened her eyes. “Right,” she said, her voice carrying a sadness to it that she hadn’t thought to appear. Then the mare flicked the light. The sudden brightness pained her eyes, but she didn’t close them again. Instead, they remained fixed on the empty bed in the middle of the room, with only a stuffed bear sitting on the pillow. Applejack felt herself moving closer, and at the same time felt like she remained in the doorway, watching a little foal in her cot, mumbling and giggling while she dreamt of sunlight and happy days. Fuzzy still smelled of mother. She felt the bear’s coat against her muzzle, and as the mare realized that she had taken him, she silently put him down and without any further thought, turned around, leaving the room behind. Being alone was far too bitter an experience for her. Still, that was all there was these days: Loneliness. A bitter sigh escaped her as she looked at the cold corridors and all she could do was question why she’d stood up in the first place. Nopony else was here, nopony but Applejack and the farm slept during this season. All that and the blizzard made her feel like crawling right back into her bed and remaining there for the rest of winter. Why wasn’t she a bear? Like, seriously, why? Not only did they get to sleep through the most tiresome of seasons, no, they had more strength than a pony, were bigger and . . . Applejack shook her head. An early morning brought out the weirdest of thoughts. Need to make a fire, she told herself and started moving again, A fire and breakfast. Yet halfway to the stairs she realized that she had forgotten her morning’s trip to the toilet. A grumbling escaped her as Applejack moved to the worst part of her everyday life. The bathroom in the house always smelled of apricots, in memory of Granny’s ‘little Apricot’. Applejack frowned. Normally, the odor felt natural to her, but now that she was alone it was a memory, stinging at her heart. A caring smile, a foal in her arms. Cold water helped her out of the memory, out of the dream. Every morning the first thing she did was hold her head under the shower and just turn on the coldest possible solution. Sometimes she thought that jumping into a frozen lake couldn’t be this cold and nowadays, too, the moment it started running, Applejack screamed out. Still, she kept her head beneath it, like she was washing every dream, every memory off her. She had always hated cold water though. Her morning started off like that, with a routine that made her regret to not have gone with the rest of her family, a blizzard outside and a freezing wetness drenching her coat. After that she relieved herself, washed her hooves, decided to go over the house with a duster again on a later date and after all that she moved to their living room, a towel covering her head. First order of business there was to get a fire started, so the earth pony put some wood into the fireplace. She kept her focus throughout; her knees shook and her teeth chattered as she pulled a piece of paper out and stuffed it between the wood. Applejack quickly grabbed the matches and one quick motion later the pile was ablaze. Their living room felt like the oldest part of the house. Most of the pictures on the walls came from a time where Granny Smith had been but a filly and from the couch to the table, everything had the distant smell of caramel apples. Another old memory. This house could be full of them if one opened their eyes just enough. A sigh, a breath, and then Applejack simply let the warmth wash over her. I need to prepare food, she told herself and found a frown forming on her face. And then what? It was the one question she had yet to find an answer for. The farm was basically her life, and it was asleep during winter. Now, she had nothing, and she hadn’t been smart enough to just leave for her cousin’s place like every other member of her family. Whatever she had originally thought to achieve by staying behind, now she wasn’t so sure of it having been that wise an idea. For breakfast, she drank a glass of water, considering she wasn’t really hungry and if she’d start preparing a real breakfast now, she’d probably still be groggy enough to do it for her entire family. If Applejack had learned one lesson in her life, then it was that she couldn’t trust her half-asleep self. However, her morning was basically done like this. So she did what she did every morning, she settled down on the couch by the fireside and watched the dance of flames and embers. Only a small warmth emitted from it at first and she felt the cold touching her from behind, a freezing sensation that was banished more and more from this room, this house. It might not have been a perfect way to start of the day, Applejack guessed, but it was something at least. As she leaned back she remembered something else, her eyes wandered to the window and the dim light that grew brighter beyond the clouds. The blizzard still raged outside, but, despite that, Applejack found a smile on her face. For the entire winter she had looked for something to do, and now she might have just found it in the strangest of places. One more hour she would spend by the fire, warming herself before preparations needed to be started. Today was going to be special. Rainbow Dash was sure of one thing and one thing only, that being herself. Well, somewhat. She was sure of her own loyalties, of her own will to change things for the better. Neither her methods nor her demeanor were things she readily bragged about, though she was hotheaded enough to appear more prideful than she truly was. Someone had once told her that this characteristic of hers was both her greatest boon and worst fault, and one day, it would come crashing down on her. For one reason or another she had always hoped that person to be wrong, but whenever there was a chance to doubt herself, she’d take it, even though she never really wanted to. The filly held her gaze on a friend at this moment. Her thoughts drifted between things to speak of and other stuff she could be doing. No matter what she’d say, it’d be wrong. Rainbow Dash was completely aware of that, just as she knew that if she didn’t say anything, it would make everything worse. “Sometimes,” she started. She had visited Fluttershy’s place before the storm had hit and stayed overnight, even brought the stuff she had wanted to take to their new clubhouse today. The night had been everything but calm, with the weather outside barely containing itself to the regulations. Blizzards were too chaotic for the weather teams and if the first night looked as horrible as it did, then Rainbow Dash feared for the ones to come. Yet, she had to tell herself to focus on something else, the very thing before her. Her eyes went down to the tea, hot steam rising from the green tinted water and the smell of mint painting the air. She wanted to immerse herself in it, just like she wanted to be somewhere else. Yet the pegasus found her eyes looking up to Fluttershy again. The yellow filly looked down to the ground, both arms stretched out. Her hooves picked up the teacup and she held it close to her, but never did she take a sip. Sometimes, we need to say things we don’t want to, she spoke in her head, trying to think about how Fluttershy would react. Rainbow Dash wasn’t sure, she never was. With every word she uttered she felt herself becoming more and more aware of how little she understood of other ponies. Why couldn’t somepony else be there for her friends, somepony wiser or smarter. ”If you’ve done enough running away, how ‘bout you pick yourself up and fight back for once?” An old friend’s voice spoke in her head and Rainbow Dash found herself reassured, the faint memory of that rainy school day before her eyes again. “Sometimes, what we think is best for others might not actually be the-” “No,” Fluttershy interrupted her, the softness of her voice not deafening the defiance she held. “No,” she repeated, a flicker in her eyes as she looked at Rainbow Dash. “I can’t watch her do this. . . I’m sorry, but; but I’m not,” she spat those words out. Fluttershy sounded aggressive and her entire posture was tense, but Rainbow Dash was well aware of how her friend functioned. She was fighting more with herself than anything else. A kind soul with nothing but good intentions and a soft heart for all things. The yellow pegasus shook her head. “I know everything’s hard for you, Dashie, and winter’s going down hard on everypony. I’m lucky to not be really stressed out myself, except that thing with Twilight. I mean, I’ve been trying. I really have. . .” She looked so desolate, so sad, like she could break down any moment now. Dash had to struggle with herself, find the right words, she bit her lip. “I know,” was all she could manage. As a smile grew on Fluttershy’s face Rainbow knew that the words had been the right ones. They’d been together since flight school, hadn’t they? While the other pony wasn’t an open book to Dash, she could still discern between an honest smile and a fake one. “It’s only, you know, when I saw her standing by the board she looked so. . . broken, I guess. Just like when she went to ask me about it. Sometimes, what we think is best for ourselves might not actually be the best for us, and Twilight. . .” Every pause must have felt like a dagger, as Fluttershy’s face contorted in thought every time her sentences came to a stop. She did not know how to put her emotions into words and she had never been the type to do so. A kind pony, a soft-hearted one even. There existed a word for ponies like Fluttershy, and it wasn’t ‘doormat’. Rainbow Dash always looked at her friend as a tree that dared not grow with other trees around, but alone on a field would offer shadow to any passerby and a home beneath its roots for any animal that came by. Her selflessness could work for or against her. There was a word for ponies like her, but Rainbow Dash had no idea what it was. She decided to check a dictionary later on. Rainbow Dash offered a nod as she noticed that Fluttershy couldn’t find the right words. “Twilight’s counting on us, and if this’ll help her, then we should be there for her. Considering that we couldn’t come up with something better, all we can do is put all our chips on this. It’s a gamble, but Pinkie seemed sure of it.” Mind you, she hadn’t quite believed the plans herself when Pinkie had told her of them. Yet, another part had been happy that Twilight might find a way. While she would’ve greatly enjoyed it to not be part of this whole thingie Pinkie was up to, Rainbow had also made a promise to herself to always stand up and be there for her friends. She had taken that reason as to why she had quickly gone and helped Pinkie, going as far as bringing her favorite toys to the barn. I just hope Twilight finds some more enthusiasm for the Wonderbolts now. Fluttershy tore her out of her thoughts again, having taken a while to form the proper sentence in her mind. “I know, it’s just that I don’t know if this is really right.” Apparently she didn’t think that Rainbow Dash understood what she was going on about, her face giving a look of discomfort and pity. It was strange to look at, but considering everything, it appeared natural that Fluttershy didn’t quite know how to deal with a situation like this. Truth was, neither did Rainbow. Twilight was the brains around these parts, and Dash trusted her. No, she wanted to trust her. Her and Pinkie. There were a thousand things she could have told Fluttershy too, but ultimately, the one and only truth was that. “Let’s trust all of us,” Rainbow Dash said and offered one last smile, yet found no reassurance from Fluttershy, who only sipped her tea and looked to the ground. “When Gilda and I met, she told me that trust is strength. Neither of us really got what it meant back then, but now it’s pretty obvious. All we need to do is have some faith in Twilight and let her keep her faith in us, then everything’ll be fine.” Fluttershy gritted her teeth before she fiddled for words, tried to think, to relax. Whatever the filly was thinking now, Rainbow Dash didn’t understand, yet Fluttershy looked at her with dead eyes and spoke in a hollow voice, “Yeah, you’re right.” Out of all the things in her life, there was nothing Rainbow Dash hated as much as a friend she couldn’t help. Yet, this day just had to become special, for the cerulean filly born upon clouds, or else all this would become just one more dream, melting away like snow in spring. Yes, it would be just like another friendship she had given up not long ago, a friendship she could really need right now. Rainbow thought of Gilda and hoped that friendship would prove to be a stronger force this time. The dark outside grew brighter, slowly but steadily and the new day showed its face despite the gray and the cold. Outside the storm raged as Twilight stared at the ceiling above her. Whether it was the fabric against her coat or the padding between her legs, all of it felt completely unfamiliar. She had done it before though, hadn’t she? Spike had been there, had helped her. Yet now she lay alone in a dark place, winds howling outside and a cold creeping about. She felt it well enough with her nose, since every part of her but the head was well hidden beneath the covers. Once, she had looked upon blue skies like the ceiling portrayed, a small creature by her side, scales of purple, green eyes staring at the clouds. She remembered it as well as the face of a rose colored alicorn she had seen for the last time. Afterwards, she had left Twilight’s life. How much time had gone by since then? To the side she turned and her eyes looked at the bars and the whale, while her right cheek rested on the pillow. Quite often, questions came easy to her, but the answers eluded her. How much time could go by and how much pain could a pony endure before they found the things they were looking for. Thoughts dwelled within her mind, just as every morning. What she needed to do, what she thought she wanted to do. Yet all the same, she didn’t move, didn’t stand up. Moments passed as she looked at the room she dared not to name and a familiar question crept up from the depths of her mind. What am I doing? She moved, lifting one arm up. Only then did she notice the one she was holding in her arm, a ragged teddy which clearly had been in repair quite often, with its arms clearly stitched recently, the left leg looking much better than the right one as well as one black and one white button for the eyes. Twilight took a deep breath, doing her best to banish any dark thoughts and all the worries. All she had to be was a filly who had fun, right? Whatever truths she had thought to know until this point, whatever Twilight Sparkle had been, she had to let go of it. Moving forward with nothing but good hopes and thoughts, that was what she had to do. The pony took another breath, pulling the bear closer to her, telling herself that she needn’t to stand up now, needn’t a schedule. It was meant to be soothing, but she quickly found her eyes twitching, her gaze shifting to the unfamiliar door. Every second more made her further aware of how much this place’s outline wasn’t quite right, how the way she lay was far from ideal and how the longer she waited, the more her schedule was getting more and more out of bounds. I don’t even have a schedule! Twilight admitted bitterly. Turning around once more, she shifted her legs a little but, much to her dismay, found the diaper too thick to get into a better sleeping position. Why had she thought all this was a good idea again? Not only that, she couldn’t just stand up and properly get her hooves to the floor, since the bars were barring her way. Sure, she might have just opened herself a path, but wasn’t Pinkie there for that? Would she get mad if Twilight did something like doing that on her own? Even worse, what would she do after opening it? Honestly, the only thing to do here was play. Well, she might just go back to the library and check back on things, make sure the books were all orderly, that Allie and Big Wig would close and open all the doors the proper way and- Twilight hit herself against the head. “Just stop,” she hissed. Silence answered the unicorn’s command. A silence she would have loved to have inside her head as her worries grew louder and louder. She focused on the wind outside, imagined flakes of snow falling and tried to push herself aside. All she needed to do was to let go, but the more she tried to, the harder her grip seemed to become. Twilight fought nothing but a pointless battle and the ending was already in plain sight. She pulled the bear closer, closed her eyes and tried to think of something happy. She needed to stand up, make breakfast and then reorganize the furniture. Her mind raced as it tried to find the proper timing for everything and something back in her head started screaming louder and louder, telling her to get up and ditch that ridiculous outfit she was wearing. For a moment she lingered on that thought and became all too aware of what she was doing. For one single moment she realized how little sense all of this made. You couldn’t cure anything with this, could you? Ridiculous, the word echoed through her head, weighing more and more each time. “Are you doing morning exercises?” She heard a familiar voice ask, “because I do, too. Every morning I practice like twenty-seven different smiles. Takes everything out of me, but it works.” Twilight opened her eyes to look at Pinkie. The pink pony stood by the crib, looking as energetic as always, a wide smile adorning her face. Twilight looked at her, not knowing what to say, like so many times before. “Is this really alright?” She found herself asking. Pinkie blinked, her smile vanishing a bit. “I dunno, is it?” Her head was still resting on the pillow, plushies leaning against her, and Twilight felt herself thrown back to yesterday, to the answer she had given Pinkie. She was lost, wasn’t she? One part wanted to stand up, to do things that would probably end up unnecessary, another part just wanted to stay here. What am I doing? The question sprung up again. Was all this alright? She couldn’t feel good and Twilight couldn’t feel happy. All her thoughts were drifting around a place the filly herself didn’t know and she felt like she was on a block of ice in the middle of the ocean, her footing slowly melting away. No land insight, too. To where was she going, why was she going there? Questions ran through her head once more, like always and as she drifted, the voice became louder. Stand up! It cried, beckoning her to move. It felt like Twilight Sparkle had lost herself once more and what was worse was that she didn’t even know where to start picking the pieces up. Whatever puzzle she stood in front of, the filly had no idea how to figure it out. Maybe once, a long, long time ago, it would have been easy. Right now, all she could do was look at the unmoving sky above her as well as feel the blanket she wrapped herself up with. “Maybe we should stop this. I’ve still got a lot of stuff to do,” she said with some finality. I’m not running away, just reasserting myself. Pinkie’s smile was a kind one. “I can’t give you any theories for your practice when it comes to your life, but, you said you wanted to find yourself here, so instead of giving up, maybe you should just give yourself a chance.” Twilight knew Pinkie to be weird, and sometimes she could say something good, too. Yet she doubted. “I don’t know how far I’d need to go with this to get some sort of anything.” “Well, we’ll all be here for you, no matter how far it takes us. Plus, this is just like babysitting the twins, except hopefully less temper tantrums, waking up in the middle of the night and not knowing why all the crying is necessary,” Pinkie said with a healthy laughter. No matter how far. . . That was the most reassuring thing, somehow. She thought of plans and things to do, yet there was also somepony here with her, ready to aid her loosening the grip on her life. Twilight thought of all the things she needed to do right, but found a light in Pinkie’s smile. Yes, that was what she was going to do, what she had intended to do from the moment she had stepped into this strange world. There was a tower, ready to be climbed, wasn’t it? “Thank you, Pinkie.” Pinkie let down the side of the crib gently, but seemed unsure what to do next. If she was embarrassed, then she hid it well, but there was some hesitation, as her eyes went over Twilight. The unicorn guess to know why, as she had basically just made it clear that she herself wasn’t all too comfortable with this whole. . . Ageplay might’ve been a good word for it. Yeah, she mustn’t have appeared very comfortable with this ageplay. “If we’re going to be partners in crime, I want you to know that I trust you completely. Just go with whatever you’re comfortable with and I’ll simply follow,” she spoke calmly. The words reached her friend, as she nodded frantically and her smile grew again, to the caring one. “Okay, then. . . “ She seemed to think for a moment. “Ooh, I’ve got it. A bath would be just about the right thing before breakfast, wouldn’t it, Twily?” Twilight, inside her head she screamed at herself, but on the outside she formed a smile and gave in. Twily decided to rise up. She nodded. This day would become a special one for her and hopefully her friends, too. The warmth spread around her and strands of hair whirled around. Twilight felt so light here, floating in the middle of nothingness. Having her eyes closed, she let herself drift in the water and thought of when she had last enjoyed a bath like this. Just the filly and a bathtub. It must have been back when she had lived in Canterlot. Considering Twilight Sparkle came from a trueborn branch of an old noble line, their house in Canterlot had possessed the most magnificent bathroom, with a tub large enough for the whole family. They had only used it rarely, but Twilight had cherished every time. Both of their parents worked, Shining was aiming to become an officer of the royal guard and Twilight herself was the personal student of the country’s ruler. They had spent so little time together, and yet Twilight had never thought of Cadance as family. For a moment she wondered when Cadance had first foalsitted her, but all she heard was the creak of rusty metal and all she imagined was a swing in the middle of a field. Twilight, a voice said, familiar yet like a stranger’s. A distant memory and swings that stood atop a hill. For a moment she saw a face she had never known. Then Twilight felt how the air was going out and she lifted herself out of the water and up into the air. Bubbles were around her, and though the tub was smaller than the one her family had possessed, it still had enough room for the filly to just let herself float. She looked at the white foam and then leaned back, her eyes going to the side, where Pinkamena gave her another smile. She had a vast variety of those and Twilight thought that, as far as numbers went, twenty-seven was a complete understatement. Twilight thought. . . She answered the smile with one of her own, but it left her as she closed her eyes just then. Getting used to the rhythm was the hardest part. Twilight figured that she might just slip into it tomorrow or the day thereafter, but right now there were so many worries clinging to her. Letting go felt like it would become harder with every passing moment and every time she tried to forget, she remembered still. The feeling that all this wasn’t how it should be remained, that doing this would only make things worse and worse. Truth be told, there was not one second during which she didn’t doubt. “Pinkie,” she muttered, tiredly looking at her friend, “do you ever doubt yourself?” The pink pony blinked once, and then put on a thinking pose. “Actually, sometimes when I find myself alone in the darkness of my room and think about my life, what I have achieved and what I am doing with it, I find myself wondering. . .” Lifting an eyebrow, Twilight stared at Pinkie. Getting her to talk seriously about something was rare in and of itself, so everytime she did say something in a serious tone of voice, without any added gimmicks, it came easy to listen. Just looking at Pinkie being like this felt strange, since she was always this constantly upbeat existence that lived in a world where she could throw parties for her friends, and that all the time. Talking was even stranger, and Twilight could feel herself just anticipating the thoughtful completion of Pinkie’s sentence. “. . . whether I like cupcakes or muffins more.” The sagely tone in which the words were spoken did little to conceal the fact that this statement was not profound at all. And yet, Twilight would have loved to also have only worries of such a simple nature. Instead she thought of things she had to do and how she had to do them. All she had to do was to get used to the rhythm, and all her world had to consist of was happy thoughts and nothing else. She leaned back, only noticing Pinkie again as the pony started to massage shampoo into her mane. It felt hard not to move her limbs, to not correct what Pinkie did, but the mare wanted to overcome and she wanted to feel at least a bit good again. Ultimately, having somepony else do the washing for her didn’t feel bad, either. It reminded her of those times they had gone to the spa, sometime before the snows had fallen and before she had looked in the mirror with nothing but dark thoughts. Her mind was drifting, her heart beating calmly. What am I doing? Obsessive Compulsive Disorder was a phenomenon that had been examined by an immigrant giraffe over in Trottingham. It must have been about a hundred years ago. It was even the topic of said giraffe’s magnum opus, and Twilight had to be one in about fifty-six ponies who had read one of the few remaining copies. Despite the disorder being a real thing, it had never been seen as a problem in Equestria. Due to influences from the griffon lands, the things that made it so horrible were held in high regard. In fact, quite a few well-known ponies of the modern times had actually suffered from it, if another manuscript was to be believed. Ponies feared a lot of things in this world. They were as scared of fire as they were of ice. Not only that, but their fears went so far that they were actually afraid of anything that couldn’t be manipulated. So, if one thought about it that way, a pony taking control of everything in their life could easily be put into a more positive light. Twilight had read all there was to find about it. As far as she knew, down in the south, were giraffes and zebras lived, they had long since learned how to battle these things. Yet they were even more in tune with their surroundings than the ponies; and the differences, not only culturally but physically, made it hard to grasp if any options available for them would work for ponies. There were many unknown factors, so what was left? “What are you thinking about?” she heard Pinkie ask. “Lots and lots of things, I guess.” “Big filly stuff?” Twilight’s face made way for the faintest hint of a smile, “I suppose.” What do I want? She had already given Pinkie her answer to that. So all Twilight had to do now was to let go and just look to where the path she was on would lead her. All she had to do was take another pony’s hoof, stop thinking. Finally, she had to stop thinking. That had been her only problem until this point and she was quite aware of how she would hardly solve it in a manner of moments, unless, maybe. . . Pinkie had said that she’d help her, no matter how far they’d need to go. Twilight already knew that her friend had meant it, so the question was whether she intended to take more steps rather than just sitting around with a plastic garment and playing with toys. She might need to play this regression thing straight in more ways than she did now. There came the thoughts again. Was this right? Would it actually help her? Why was she even indulging this? “Well, somepony looks ready to get dried and dressed,” Pinkie suddenly said and reached out with her hoof. “Come on.” For now, all that counted was getting used to the rhythm, so Twilight took the hoof gladly and let herself be helped out of the tub. The water dripped onto the floor, or rather the bathmat that lay there, and the warmth of her bath made the room around her feel much more cooler. Pinkie had a towel upon her almost immediately and she let the rubbing happen. It reminded her of how Cadance had treated her, how every bath back then had been an experience, how she had enjoyed every bit of attention. Twilight let those memories run past her, fondness painting them in bright colours. There was a warm fuzziness within her past, though it was hard to grasp. “Alright,” she heard after a few moments, just after the towel had gone over her belly, “I guess my little filly is just about ready for her didee.” She did blush at how Pinkie formulated it, yet Twilight found herself being readily led out to the nursery and placed onto the changing table. Before the bath, she had taken off the diaper before Pinkie had a chance to do anything, and she had done it neatly, too. She couldn’t help but think about how much of a waste it felt. Things had a purpose and were usually used for this very purpose. Funnily, the main concern with the diapers wasn’t hygiene, and even the fact that she was a grown mare wasn’t that concerning to her. Twilight could be very down to earth in some matters, but the fact stood that she didn’t want to involve any of her friends in anything they might be uncomfortable with. That she thought as she lay on her back and felt another diaper being sled beneath her. That kinda takes a lot out of that statement, she thought almost bitterly. This time, she caught a glimpse of Pinkie’s face during the process. The earth pony had said she saw this just like taking care of the twins and that hadn’t been an exaggeration, at least if one went by both the care she put into her work and the expression on her face. Pinkie Pie had the same, caring smile Twilight had known it from Cadance or her parents, one that made her feel safe. With the last tape being adjusted, Pinkie looked at her work. Being magical was a great thing when one didn’t possess thumbs or fingers, so it looked as neatly as could be. “All done,” she announced and leaned over Twilight, her head going down on the filly’s stomach. Twilight didn’t even get to say anything, for the other mare blew a raspberry that send her into a roaring laughter. Pinkie grinned at her. “If you manage to keep this one dry, maybe my little Twily is finally ready for training pants,” she teased. Twilight, carried on the thoughts she held in the back of her mind, answered: “What if I don’t manage?” Pinkie smiled, but her ears perked up as clearly noticed how matter-of-factly Twilight had voiced her question. “Oh, I’ll guess I’d have to change a certain filly again. Nopony likes a cranky foal,” she said and blew another raspberry. Twilight laughed out, playfully attempting to keep Pinkie away, who quickly blew another raspberry. The second day had started and the winds raged outside, yet Twilight had let go just that moment. Twily herself had decided to let herself be led by Pinkie, just as she had decided to let this day happen as it would. No more dark thoughts and no more wondering if she could have done this or that properly. This tower’s top she was certain to reach, as long as she had her friends by her side. They had their breakfast in Twily’s nursery, which was awesome. Pinkie had gotten a puzzle mat out of her box, laid it out in the middle of the room and then had made sandwiches for both of them. Twily had gotten another sippy cup, which she hadn’t bothered to touch as of yet, since she was far too busy getting the puzzle wrong. The filly had figured out how to finish this from the moment she had seen it, first had come the numbers from one to nine, while beneath them the alphabet had to be laid out. Now, she tried to find alternative ways to put it together and was quite adamant on getting the four between the D and the P. It hadn’t taken long for Pinkie to join her. Every time Twily tried to go for a solution of less efficiency, the pink earth pony took the numbers or letters and arranged them in a new manner. What came surprising to Twily was how easy Pinkie manipulated the chaos. The puzzle’s pieces were all fairly worn out and some of the parts which shouldn’t have fit actually did. So as the three and Z joined in holy matrimony, Twily found herself applauding her nanny. Something in the back of her mind was nagging, as they went on and destroyed the very heart of modern equestrian language and mathematics, but Twily managed to put the thoughts out fairly quickly, finally going for her milk as they finished up the puzzle. As she drank from the cup her eyes looked upon their work as something that was really fascinating. As a matter of fact, she just had to wonder what a more serious pony might have said to that. Well, she might just get the chance. The filly turned her head to Pinkie, who sat right by her side. “Could we show that to the others?” Pinkie turned her head, a mischievous grin on her face. “Sure, cupcake,” she said. “How about we make a bet?” Twily didn’t really like the look Pinkie was giving her, but decided to have some fun with this. “What do we bet?” “Well, if I win. . . How about you have to keep your paci in your mouth for the whole day tomorrow, and no talking.” She had to think about that for a moment, not really sure what Pinkie wanted to achieve, but after a moment understood. Pinkie basically dared her to go full foal for a day. That made her think about whether or not this was a wise idea, but then again, if she won she wouldn’t have to worry about that. Gambling wasn’t a thing for little filly’s, but surely no harm could come of this. “Okay, but if I win you have to wear didees for a whole day!” Pinkie blinked, tilted her head. “Well~,” she sang and before Twily knew it she was on the ground once more, as some sort of tickle monster attacked her. These things apparently roamed around these parts. So they both remained there, Twily pinned to the ground, proving that some ponies just remained very ticklish no matter how much they aged, and Pinkie, playing the not-so-vile monster that brought laughter and happiness. It went on for a while, until Pinkie finally stopped and looked at her friend, her charge. “I have half a mind to say that we’ve already got one little diaperbutt here and you might just not take me seriously when I start wearing them. . .” Her grin betrayed Pinkie. “It’s on. I’ll bet Rarity’s going to correct the puzzle,” the pink pony said. Twily nodded. “I say it’s going to be AJ.” For a moment, they both looked at each other fiercely, until Pinkie went off of Twilight and picked her up from the ground, holding the big foal in her arms. “Alright then,” she said and put the sippy cup back into her mouth. “Now that that’s done you’ve still got this to finish and then we’ll see that we get ourselves properly dressed for our visitors.” Twily only heard her faintly, for she was too busy suckling the warm milk and trying to wiggle herself into a bit more comfortable position in Pinkie’s arms. She could definitely imagine going on a few days just like this, even if it was confined in a small space such as this. Well, no matter what, she was sure this day was going to be special. Not only that, but as far as the tower was concerned, she felt ready to reach the very top.