A cheerful warbling gradually wormed its way into Twilight Sparkle’s consciousness, piercing the utter stillness of her mind. As her thoughts gradually became coherent, she focused on the sound, the fluid trills dancing around her ears. A small smile curled the corners of her mouth as one eye finally popped open.

She found herself lying on her back in the precise center of a rather unremarkable iron bed, the sheet tucked tightly under her. A white sheet. White bed. White cinder-block walls, linoleum floor. A small ledge that barely qualified as a desk, with a chair nearby. An even smaller shelf over the bed. All white. Sheer curtains billowed in the breeze swirling through the open window, the birdsong outside continuing its lilt.

Twilight pulled the edge of the sheet from under her and swung out of bed, rising to see what was outside, but she turned back toward the bed as she heard a crackle of static behind her. First fixing on a small radio on the shelf above her bed, her eyes then traversed to the only source of color in the room: a music box which sat beside it. The box hung open, an elegant unicorn rearing up as if to dance across the purple-enameled surface beneath the lid. After staring at the figure for a moment, she tried to wind the key on the back, but it wouldn’t budge. Returning her attention to the soft hissing emanating from the radio, Twilight reached out with a hoof and nudged the dial.

“Twilight!”

Her head whipping around, she walked over to the window. On a well-manicured lawn outside stood Pinkie Pie, amid a cluster of showy pink flowers.

“Hi, Twi! Hee hee! Can I come in?” Pinkie asked, her tail swishing through the blooms.

Struck speechless for a moment, Twilight finally gave a small nod and blinked, only to see an empty, featureless yard surrounded by a black cast-iron fence.

“Here, silly!”

Twilight turned away from the window and looked to where Pinkie sat in the plushly upholstered desk chair, its pink fabric dotted with a peppermint candy motif. She walked away from the frilly pink curtains and plopped back onto the fluffy pink comforter on her bed, next to the pink wall covered with pink balloon wallpaper. Finally fading away, the radio’s static turned into a jaunty polka tune.

“How are you doing today, Twilight? I’m glad you don’t mind having a visitor!” Pinkie leaned forward in her chair and closed her eyes, an immense grin stretched across her face.

“I... I don’t know, Pinkie. Where is this?” Creasing her brow, Twilight scanned the room once more.

“It’s just your room. You don’t recognize it?” Pinkie asked, scratching a hoof at her cocked head. Twilight shook her head and wrapped the corner of the comforter around herself. “That’s okie dokie lokie. I just wanted to check up on one of my bestest friends. You’re having a good day?”

Huddling a bit further against the wall, Twilight’s ears drooped as she gave an unconvincing nod.
“Where is everypony? Where’s Spike?”

“Oh, you worrywart!” Pinkie said, waving a dismissive hoof as she giggled. “Everypony’s fine. “Don’t you fret your little purple head over us. I’m the one visiting you. I want to know how you’re doing!”

“I... don’t know. It’s hard to think, but... now that you’re here, it seems to be a little better.” She readjusted her position and flashed a faint smile, her movements slow and lethargic.

“Hee hee! I’ve been accused of worse.” Pinkie bounced her head along with the music. “Of course it’s better with friends, Twilight! That’s why we need to have you back.”

Confusion played across Twilight’s face. “Back?”

Pinkie rose from her chair and walked to the bed’s side, placing a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. The joy draining from her smile, she blinked a few times and took a deep breath. “Twilight, I want you to know that you’ve always made me laugh. You’ve been a fun friend.”

“Made you laugh?” Twilight snorted as her shoulders relaxed. “What did I do that was so awkward this time?”

“No, silly. I laugh because I like being friends with you. Do you remember that book of knock-knock jokes you found in the library last month?” Her head bobbed in a silent chuckle. “You were laughing so hard! I couldn’t help myself! It was so contagious, and the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Laughter’s not always about funny. Sometimes it’s about happiness.”

Unable to help but giggle a bit herself, Twilight closed her eyes and reached out to hug Pinkie’s neck.

“We miss you, Twilight. The laughter hasn’t been the same without you. Never forget to laugh.”

The voice and the music echoed in Twilight’s ears as she opened her eyes and saw her hoof extended into the empty space in front of her. It fell to the white sheet below as her smile faded. Climbing out of bed once again, she walked over to the metal door and looked out the small wire-reinforced window to the hallway beyond. She craned her neck to see as far as she could in either direction. Seeing nopony, she ran to the window to find it blocked with iron bars. Her breathing quickened and her heart raced as she returned to the door and tried the knob, but to her surprise, it opened easily.

Stepping into the corridor, Twilight ran a hoof over the white-and-red-checkered wallpaper and looked at the faded photographs hanging there as the worn floorboards creaked under her. She followed the hall until it opened onto a rustic porch with a pair of rocking chairs and a number of wooden posts supporting a tin roof. A short distance away, acres of golden wheat stalks rippled in the breeze, the low morning sun enhancing their color.

“Mornin’”

Twilight slowly turned her head to the farther chair, where Applejack was rocking and sipping a glass of lemonade.

“Sleep well, sugarcube?” Applejack waved a hoof toward the empty seat as her ears perked up.

Nodding, Twilight slid into the chair and looked past Applejack to the next building, where a pair of farm workers leaned against the bunkhouse’s wall. One picked away at a slide guitar while the other played an out-of-tune fiddle. Further past them, a small steel windmill tower squeaked away as the blades spun, seemingly in time with the twangy melody.

“I got a glass for you too, Twi. It’s fresh,” Applejack said, nudging a drink across the small table between them. She grinned as Twilight sampled it and finally relaxed back into her chair. They sat in silence for a few moments until Applejack swept a hoof past the fields in front of them. “Y’know, I’d have none o’ this if not for good, honest hard work. But you’d know somethin’ ’bout that, too. You’re not one to shy away from effort.”

“No, I—I guess not.” Twilight took a longer drink, not realizing how thirsty she actually was. “I’ve... always tried to do my best.” Grinning sheepishly, she set her glass back on the table. “But it’s not quite the same as what you do.”

“Shucks, sure it is, sugarcube. Would I lie?” Applejack laughed as she tipped the brim of her hat a little further upward.

Shaking her head, Twilight gazed out at the windblown grain.

“You see, you never use your fancy logic or philosophy to dance around the truth. That what I like about you.” Applejack took a long drink, then jabbed a hoof toward Twilight. “No avoidin’ it, no hidin’ from it, no disguisin’ it. You work as hard as any Apple, and all of Ponyville’s the better for it.”

“Well... I messed up when I tried using magic during Winter Wrap-Up.” Hanging her head, Twilight let out a sigh.

“But you owned up to it. Dontcha see? And in the end, you weren’t afraid to tell it like it is, and worked your flank off to make it all happen. First winter ever wrapped up on time. That was you,” added Applejack, giving Twilight a sharp nod. “All ’cause you weren’t afraid o’ the truth.”

Twilight blushed a bit at the compliment, reaching for her glass again. “I’m just lucky it all turned out well.”

Humming along with the musicians for a moment, she chuckled. “I don’t know why it’s so fun to sing about losin’ everythin’. But that’s country music for you.” She leaned toward Twilight and patted her shoulder. “We can’t lose you, though. You mean too much to us, sugarcube. You keep your mind fixed on the truth. And truth is—we miss you. Be honest with yourself first. Know when you’re hurtin’ yourself.” She shook her head as the music waned, the sun’s glare forcing Twilight to shield her eyes with a foreleg. “You shouldn’t be here. Come home to us.”

“Miss Sparkle?”

Spinning about, Twilight saw a stallion in a white smock. She looked forward once more, her mind slowing to a crawl, but no farmland greeted her—just a small concrete patio and a narrow strip of grass.

“Miss Sparkle, are you ready for some breakfast?” the orderly asked as he pointed toward the doorway.

Twilight cast a wistful gaze at the empty chair beside her before nodding and following the stallion to a common room, filled with long tables. She sat at a secluded one in the corner and stared off at the wall, barely noticing when a unicorn mare in a doctor’s coat took the chair opposite her.

“Good morning, Twilight. I’m Doctor Canter. Do you remember me? Are you having a good day so far?” She craned her neck to try imposing herself within Twilight’s field of view.

Twilight shrugged. “I saw Pinkie Pie and Applejack. They came to visit.”

“Oh, good,” the doctor said. “And how did it go?”

Directing her stare down at the tabletop, Twilight frowned, letting her ears fold back. “Good. I think. I’m just... confused.”

“That’s fine. We can work with ‘confused.’ Are you at least feeling well?” Getting a halfhearted nod in response, she continued, “Well, I’ll check in with you this afternoon.”

Her ears pricking toward a faint noise, Twilight blinked and turned her head to see an old phonograph in the far corner, its turntable spinning away. She sat in a darkened room filled with art deco furnishings, chrome accents, vinyl-covered banquettes, and dim frosted-glass lamps. Smells of fresh bread and herbs wafted through the air, and she felt the light coolness from a ceiling fan turning lazily overhead. From outside, the neon lights lining the streets flashed an interplay of colors on the glossy granite tabletop.

“I just love this bistro,” Rarity said while fixing an out-of-place strand of mane. “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering for us. I know the chef.” She beamed at Twilight as the waiter delivered their food: a pair of cucumber and endive sandwiches, a small crock of Dijon mustard, and two dishes of green tea sorbet.

“Mm, this looks delicious, Rarity!” Twilight levitated the pepper shaker and mustard over, adding a bit of each to her sandwich as she licked her lips. She perked her ears up and smiled. “How do you find all these places?”

Rarity tossed her mane and flicked a hoof at Twilight. “Oh, tools of the trade. You know, I do so prefer one-on-one time like this, dear. It really gives me a chance to get to know my friends,” she added, holding a hoof to her chest. “I’m afraid I don’t make time for it like I should.”

“But Rarity—we do lots of things together.” Twilight knit her brow as she cocked her head.

“Oh, pish posh. A bit of fun here, a bit there. Twilight, I would do anything for my friends. I love making my little creations for you,” Rarity said, waving a hoof at the exquisite amethyst-studded gown that Twilight wore, “but where is the line? I pour so much of myself into each one of them, but at the expense of what? Not having the time to give my friends the real article? Giving them a labor of love but not the love itself, because it’s stuck toiling away at the boutique?” Exhaling sharply, she shook her head.

Rarity’s ears perked momentarily to the song playing on the record. “Oh my, Les Mareserables! One of my favorite shows.” Humming along with the melody, she joined in at the beginning of the chorus. “On my own...” Stopping just as quickly as she’d begun, she sighed. “But that’s just it isn’t it? I’m not on my own. ‘Give until it hurts,’ as they say, and it does hurt at times. That’s not what your friends want, though.” She averted her eyes downward, avoiding Twilight’s gaze.

“Rarity, we do appreciate what you do for us. You’re so creative, and we’re proud to show it off.” Twilight took Rarity’s hooves in her own, leaning forward onto the cool stone of the table, and waited for her to make eye contact. “But you don’t have to prove it over and over again.”

“That’s exactly the dilemma, Twilight. Generosity taken to such an extreme that it deprives you of your friend is no generosity. ‘Get your own house in order.’ Oh, listen to me,” she said with a wry chuckle. “I sound like one of those familiar quotation books.” Though her eyes were brimming with tears, Rarity gave a polite little laugh. “My point is that you have to be generous to yourself sometimes. Merely indulging yourself in your friends’ company is often the best gift you can give them as well.”

Rising from her seat, Rarity walked around to Twilight’s side of the table and sat next to her, wrapping a foreleg around her neck. “Don’t take yourself away, Twilight. More than what you do for us, we need you. You don’t belong in this place,” she said, sweeping a hoof about the room.

Leaning toward her, Twilight hugged Rarity back and buried her muzzle in the curls of her friend’s mane. She put her hooves on Rarity’s shoulders and backed away to look into her eyes again, but nopony was there. Just silence and a small plate of vegetables on a rather industrial table.

She looked back across the table, where Canter was staring intently at her. “Are you back with us?” Twilight’s mouth hung open for a moment while she surveyed the room as if seeing it for the first time. “Who came to visit you?”

“R-Rarity.” Her breath catching in her throat, Twilight shoved herself back from the table, sending her chair clattering to the floor. “She—she told me I didn’t belong here. I have to go! I need to go!” She searched quickly for an exit as her heart raced.

“Twilight,” the doctor said in her gentlest tone. “You can leave whenever you want. You’re not confined here. In fact, you checked yourself in of your own accord.”

“No! I-I can’t stay here!” Twilight bolted for the door, Canter making no move to stop her. She galloped down what appeared to be the widest hallway until she reached a pair of large glass doors, shoving them open and rushing outside.

She skidded to a stop in deep sand next to a pair of swaying palm trees. A steady sea breeze was blowing in off the ocean, carrying its salty scent and countering the sun’s relentless warmth. Behind her stood a small, straw-roofed bar shack at one end of a stage, where a jazz trio played. Above it all, a few wispy clouds skidded across the sky.

“Oh, hey, Twilight!” Rainbow Dash said, looking up from her beach chair. She gave a goofy grin and wrinkled her zinc-dabbed nose. “Glad you could join me! I saved you a seat,” she added, patting the empty one next to her. Nodding after a moment’s hesitation, Twilight plopped down into the chair.

Rainbow took a sip through the straw protruding from the coconut she held and nodded toward another one that lay in the sand between them. “Help yourself, Twi. Never tried one of these before, but it’s pretty awesome.”

Levitating the drink up in front of her, Twilight took a tentative pull and smiled at the unexpectedly cool sensation. She smacked her lips. “Mm. That is good!” Squinting, she directed a quizzical glance at Dash. “Why are you relaxing at this time of day? I figured you’d be practicing stunts.”

“Yeah. I guess so. But sometimes you just have to chill. Go, go, go all the time will just burn you out, you know? You gotta—oh, hang on. I love this part!” She mimed along with the trumpet player’s solo, puckering her lips and holding her hooves up in front of her as a wingtip worked the imaginary valves. After gyrating along with the blazing tempo for a little while, she brushed a bit of sweat off her forehead and picked up her drink again. “Heh. See? You can still get a workout even while you’re relaxing.”

A loud slurping noise denoted the end of her beverage. “Oh well. Where was I?” Dash rubbed a hoof on her chin and rolled her eyes upward. “Oh yeah... Y’know, if I just did all weather all the time, that’d be great for Ponyville, right? Sunny days, rain only in the exact spots it was needed. We could put tiny little clouds over every one of Applejack’s trees and leave the rest of town nice and clear, but it’s not worth it. Things don’t have to be perfect.” She reached over and tousled Twilight’s mane.

“Well, no, but it doesn’t hurt to try,” Twilight said through her frown. “You have to put forth your best effort.”

“Ponies can put up with a bit of rain, a few downed branches, a dry spell. I’d keel over if I had to do it all. I love Ponyville and Cloudsdale, and want to do the best I can for them. And sometimes that means taking care of myself so I can do my part. Sometimes you can be most loyal to everypony else by being loyal to yourself, y’know?” Dash closed her eyes and smiled brightly, giving Twilight’s shoulder a little jostle with her hoof.

“But so many ponies depend on you. How do you handle it?” Twilight asked, her ears pricking as she turned her full attention on her friend.

“Heh. This isn’t about me, Twi. What you do for Ponyville is important, too. But being you is more important. We want that back. You shouldn’t be here, Twilight. Don’t stay.” Dash hopped out of her chair and leaned down to give Twilight a hug. “Be right back,” she said, licking her lips. “I’m gonna get a refill. You want another?”

“No, thank you,” Twilight replied. She took another draw from her drink, scrunching up her face and closing her eyes as Dash gave her a pat on the shoulder. When she opened them again, she was sitting on the curb of a busy Canterlot street, sucking on a hoof. The only music left was a teasing remnant in her head.

“Miss Sparkle?”

Twilight looked over her shoulder to see the same stallion as before.

“You’ve got us worried, Miss Sparkle. Would you please come back inside?” he asked in a soothing tone. She tensed at his sudden appearance, but soon relaxed, as he kept his distance. “Maybe you’d enjoy a hot shower?” Straining to think for a moment, she nodded and trudged back into the building.

She made her way to the washroom, flicked the knobs on, and waited for the water to heat up. Gazing around at the white-tiled room, she looked up at the small patches of sky showing through the pair of windows set high on the wall, the glass covered by metal gratings. In a rare moment of lucidity, a phrase flashed through her mind: “...nor iron bars a cage.” She sighed, her thoughts becoming mired once more.

Water washed over Twilight’s face as she stepped under the spray, the gentle drops smoothing her disheveled mane as they ran down her neck. Rubbing the liquid out of her eyes, she looked up into the soft rain falling among the rich, green forest canopy overhead. She stood at the edge of a rough path and watched the vividly colored birds flitting between the branches, elegant butterflies floating from one orchid to another, and playful monkeys skittering up and down the dangling vines. A damp, earthy smell filled her nostrils as the misty droplets cascading down the foliage cast a rainbow across the thin ribbon of sky showing through the trees.

Fluttershy flapped her way to a landing beside Twilight and unstrapped her saddlebag full of medical instruments. Three parrots landed on a limb just above her, and when Fluttershy nodded to them, they began croaking a reggae beat. Giggling, Fluttershy hunched up her shoulders as she turned to Twilight. “Um... Hello, Twilight. I hope you don’t mind. The music calms the animals down while I’m treating them. If that’s okay...”

“It’s fine, Fluttershy,” Twilight replied. “I find it relaxing, too.”

Hiding her faint smile behind her mane, Fluttershy flew up to the higher branches to examine a hummingbird’s wing. “Looks like that healed up nicely,” she remarked. She then returned to the forest floor, where a monkey sat, patiently waiting its turn. After studying an ugly purple bruise on its arm, she retrieved a splint from her saddlebag and tied it in place. Finally, she approached a sloth hanging from a low vine and cleaned a wound on its leg with a sterile cloth. “Twilight, could you—if you don’t mind, that is—get me a bandage?” asked Fluttershy as she pressed the cloth in place.

“Sure,” Twilight said as she pulled one from the stash of supplies. “Will it be okay?”

“Oh, yes. No problems.” Fluttershy looked it in the eye. “Now, you take it easy on that leg for a few days.” She gave it a pat on top of its head and shooed it away.

“Thank you very much, Twilight. It’s so kind of you to help!” Fluttershy giggled and ducked behind her mane again.

“Not at all, Fluttershy! You’re always so kind to everypony else. The least I can do is give you a little help,” Twilight answered, giving her a one-hoofed hug.

“Oh, but I always worry about that! What if something happened to me? Who would take care of all the adorable critters?” She looked away and knit her brow at the mere possibility. “It takes more than just me, Twilight. If I can’t accept kindness from others, then who am I to give it?” She closed her eyes and smiled, but jerked her gaze toward the rustling branch beside her, where the sloth had already moved a good five hooves.

“Whoa! Slow down, little one! You have to take it easy, or you won’t heal right.” It forced a toothy grin and continued on at a more normal pace.

“Oh... as I was saying, Twilight—Kindness starts with yourself. If you’re worthy of giving it, you’re worthy of getting it, too, and accepting it from your friends makes them feel good. I love it when my friends show me kindness.” She walked to Twilight’s side and wrapped a wing around her. “Speaking of which—you look like you could use some right now. You’ve got a nasty... Well, I don’t know what that is. Is something wrong with your head?”

Twilight shook her head, her thoughts once again turned to molasses. “I—I don’t... know...”

“It’s okay. This won’t hurt a bit.” Fluttershy took out a fresh cloth and pressed it to Twilight’s forehead, covering her eyes. The parrots’ singing died away as Fluttershy’s voice echoed in the dark. “Don’t stay here too long. It’s not right.”

Opening her eyes, Twilight sighed as she turned off the shower. She toweled off and plodded back to her room, closing the door behind her and climbing back into bed. Just as her eyelids drooped shut for good, Twilight barely heard some rock music coming through her radio’s static.

She jerked her eyes back open upon hearing a loud crunching noise. Smooth cavern walls surrounded her, and the floor was warm to the touch. A faint smell of sulfur lingered in the air, and gems lay piled all about. Upon hearing another crunch, she turned around to face Spike, leaning back against the mound of opals he was eating. He held out a clawful of them. “Want some lunch, Twilight?”

“Oh, thank you, Spike, but no. It’s still a little early for that,” she said, waving a hoof.

“Things don’t always have to be perfectly on schedule, you know.” Spike winced at the glare he got in return. “See, that’s what I’m talking about.”

“Spike, what possible trouble could ever come from being organized?” she asked, holding her head up high. “It just makes your life run so much more smoothly.”

“But then you become a slave to it. You can’t handle the unexpected,” he argued. “Look—there’s nothing wrong with paying attention to detail. But you have to know when to bend the rules.” He scratched a foot at the ground and shrank away beneath her scowl before taking a deep breath and pushing on. “Twilight, I look up to you. Sometimes like a teacher, sometimes like a big sister, sometimes like a mother. You’ve always been a great role model. But there are some things I’ve learned not to do from you, like with that whole Miss Smarty Pants incident.”

“Spike, I...” she said, trying to deepen her scowl, but a smile won out. “Point taken, number one assistant.”

“I need you to teach me how to be an adult.” He looked up from the ground to meet her eyes, absentmindedly clasping his claws behind his back. “I need you to teach me how to be responsible. And that includes not driving yourself nuts.” After hesitating briefly, Spike rushed up to Twilight and latched on to a foreleg. “Please come home, Twilight. This isn’t the place for you.” Her expression softening, she lowered her head to nuzzle his cheek. “Get some rest, Twilight. That’s the best thing you can teach me right now: taking good care of yourself.” She felt a sudden rush of drowsiness and sank to the ground, her eyes closing, as the music turned back into static.

Twilight gradually became aware of a soft light through her eyelids. She blinked a few times and looked around her room, noticing that somepony—the orderly, no doubt—had swung her door around to keep out the hallway’s illumination. Rolling an eye upward, she saw the corner of the radio, now silent, peeking over the edge of the shelf. It gradually went out of focus as she yawned, drifting back to sleep.

The sharp sound of metal on metal jerked her awake in the darkness, and she sat bolt upright. Looking toward the window, she saw that somepony had drawn the drapes shut. In the gloom, she could make out rich furnishings of mahogany and velvet, intricately woven rugs, and highly polished brass fixtures in the stone block room.

“Twilight Sparkle, I must thank you for teaching me what you have. You have been an admirable instructor,” Luna said as she rose from her divan and stepped out of the deeper shadows. Somewhere in the distance, the carillon of a bell tower clanged away. “Without your help, the ability to have a normal conversation like this one might have continued to elude me.”

Raising her head unsteadily, Twilight peered at Luna’s indistinct form through bleary eyes. “Luna? What...?”

Luna sat down beside the bed and gave a polite smile. “Like me, you appreciate facts and brevity. I will get to the point immediately, then. Your tutelage in friendship has proven valuable, but my experience in certain other matters is vast. Let me offer a lesson of my own in exchange for your help: do not let a single-minded obsession distract you from what is truly important. You must weigh everything you do critically so that you do not sacrifice yourself for short-sighted gains.”

“Princess... are you talking about Nightm—”

“Twilight, please. The point is that a fixation warps your thought processes. You really do think you are doing the right thing until it is far too late.” Luna exhaled sharply and averted her eyes. “Take my words to heart, Twilight Sparkle. Do not languish here. ’Tis folly to dwell in such a place.”

Meeting those imploring eyes, Twilight took a deep breath and nodded, closing her eyes as she heard the final bell peal.

She blinked at the bright sunlight in her sterile room, with one thought on her mind: lunch. She walked back to the common area, waited her turn on line, and levitated a tray of celery and daisies to her usual spot away from everypony else. Soon after, the doctor entered and sat across from her once again.

“It’s about time for today’s therapy session, Twilight. We can talk here, if you don’t mind,” she said, taking a relaxed posture.

Twilight shrugged, her mind still sluggish. “I... I should go. I don’t belong here.”

“Twilight, remember that you are here because you wanted to be. You are free to leave any time you like.” She pulled out a notepad and set it on the table. “There must have been a reason why you thought you needed to come here. Do you remember what that is?”

“No,” Twilight answered, her breathing quickening as the muscles tensed in her cheeks. If nothing else, her agitation brought some clarity of thought that she’d been lacking. “I don’t even know what good it’d do. It’s not like psychology is a real science anyway. I was naive to think I should be here. Nothing good will come of it.” She glared at her half-eaten meal.

“Twilight, I’m not here to debate the merits of psychological therapy with you. What’s important is that we do get results.” She sighed at Twilight’s snort and waited a moment for her patient to calm down. “Tell me about your friends. Did any more of them visit?”

Twilight looked up from the table enough to subject the wall to her sullen expression. “After breakfast, I saw Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy. Then Spike, but... I might have gone to see him. I don’t know if he was here. Then I saw Princess Luna, but I think that was at the palace, or... No, I woke up here, but... it was...” Her eyes flicked around the room wildly as she sought something familiar to which she could anchor her thoughts.

“Did you learn anything from them?”

“They said... to go, but... Something about losing myself. Or them. I don’t...” Tears welled up in Twilight’s eyes as she felt the unpleasant jitteriness of impending bad news sweep over her. “Were... were they not really here? Did I make the whole thing up?”

“Oh, they do come to visit, Twilight,” replied the doctor, giving her patient’s hoof a reassuring pat. “Pinkie Pie came on Thursday as usual, and I saw Applejack just yesterday. Rarity should be here tomorrow.”

“B-but nopony was here today?” Twilight asked as her ears drooped. “It wasn’t real?”

“It’s as real as you think it is. They may be afterimages you perceive of their prior visits.” Cocking her head sideways, she tried to intercept Twilight’s gaze. “If you’re getting some sort of benefit from that interaction, there’s no harm in it for now.”

“The more I talk to them, the closer I feel I’m getting to... to... I can’t think! Only when I’m with them! I can’t think!” Her heart racing again, she buried her face in her hooves. She felt a soft nuzzle against her neck and uncovered her eyes.

Celestia stood next to her in the palace’s banquet hall. The long table in front of her was laden with a sumptuous feast of rare delicacies: exotic flowers, tropical fruit, every conceivable vegetable, all emanating tempting aromas. A steady stream of staff went by, tidying the room, polishing the silver, and setting out the food. In front of the picture window on the other side of the room, a string quartet bowed their way through a sprightly caprice.

“Princess Celestia!” Twilight said, holding a hoof to her chest. “I don’t remember being summoned here. What’s the occasion?”

“As you can see, we are preparing a feast, my faithful student.” A glint ran through Celestia’s eyes as she smiled warmly. “It is a feast for you, Twilight Sparkle.”

“For... me? Why?”

Celestia laughed and swept a hoof around the room. “For your homecoming, of course. It is not far off now. And when you are ready, all of your friends will be here to welcome your return.” Draping a wing across Twilight’s back, she beamed at her pupil. “I am very proud of you.”

“Homecoming?” Twilight creased her brow and folded her ears back. “Where have I been?”

Celestia sighed and sat in the chair next to Twilight. “You are one of the finest students I have ever taught. You have limitless potential. But you cannot realize that potential in one big step. Allow yourself to grow. You do not have to learn every single spell in existence as if your survival were at stake. I understand that you want to reap the benefits that your magic can bring to your friends, Ponyville, and all of Equestria, but a good student must also know her limits.”

Shrinking back, Twilight looked like a foal caught red-hooved in her mother’s chocolate stash. “I-I’m sorry, Princess.” She hung her head and let her shoulders slump. “I failed.”

“Not at all, Twilight,” Celestia said, raising her student’s chin back up with a hoof. “You just have more yet to learn. As you should. You are a student, after all.” She chuckled and levitated a linen napkin over for Twilight to dry her cheeks. “You push yourself too hard sometimes. When you do, you risk depriving your friends of that which makes all of those benefits worthwhile: you. Allow your friends to carry you at times. The responsibility is not yours alone. I wished for you to discover this lesson on your own, but I fear that if I do not intervene now, the damage could be irreparable.”

Sniffling, Twilight gave a small nod. “I-I think I understand.”

“Twilight, your friends are a source of strength. Accepting their help is not a sign of weakness. As I recall, you learned that from your friend Applejack quite some time ago.” Celestia flashed her warmest smile.

Nodding, Twilight sniffled again and took the napkin. She rubbed the tears from her eyes as the music died away.

“Come home soon, Twilight. We will all be waiting for you.”

Twilight put her napkin down and looked up at the doctor.

“Did... you just have another visit?” Canter asked. Twilight hesitated a moment, then nodded. “With whom?”

“Princess Celestia.”

“Did she help you?” She sat poised to jot some notes down on her pad.

“I don’t... I don’t know. I think I... I can’t quite remember...” Breathing rapidly, Twilight scanned the room in a fervor, unable to find anything to unscramble her thoughts.

“Twilight,” said Canter in a honey-laden tone. “Please calm down. I think the most important thing would be to think back to when all this first started. What spell were you researching that affected you so drastically?” She leaned forward attentively.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Think,” the doctor urged. “It’s important.”

“I... can’t remember...”

“You have to tell me. What spell was it? Tell me!”

Shooting to her hooves, Twilight backed away as shadows crept in from the room’s corners, shrouding the entire space in darkness. She looked to Canter, whose coat had turned a dark midnight blue. A piercing gaze shot back at Twilight through slitted pupils. Her ragged breath catching in her throat, Twilight backed into the wall.

Pinkie Pie appeared behind Nightmare Moon, then Applejack on the other side. One by one, they all took their places: Rarity, then Rainbow Dash, then Fluttershy, Spike, Luna. At last Celestia, looming over all of them. Something in Twilight’s mind shattered, and all of her thoughts rushed out at once in a disorganized heap. The music blared, all of it, mixing together into one giant cacophony.

“Run, Twilight!”

“Yeah, we can handle her, sugarcube!”

“Get outta here!”

“Twilight Sparkle, you must leave now!”

Pressing her hooves to her ears, Twilight screamed. Her body trembling, she squeezed her eyes shut and shouted, “No! It’s not real!”

Dead silence.

After what felt like an hour, she opened one eye. She was still in her seat, and the doctor sat there, scribbling away as she asked her question, seemingly for a second time.

“Did she help you?”

Her chest heaving, Twilight collapsed forward onto the table.

“Twilight, what isn’t real?” The doctor pursed her lips, reaching a hoof across the table.

“I don’t know which spell it was,” Twilight said, breathless.

“What spell?” The doctor knit her brow and frowned.

Looking up at Canter, Twilight stared at her for several minutes. Finally, the fear drained from her eyes as her face broke into a grimace and the tears flowed down her cheeks. “What is my music?”

“Music?” Canter was nonplussed.

“All of my friends have music. Whenever they appear to me, I can hear it. When I’m alone, there’s just silence. Why don’t I have music?” She crossed her forelegs on the table, laying her chin on them as she continued to cry.

Canter took a deep breath and watched her patient thoughtfully for a moment. “Twilight, do you remember that music box in your room?” She scrawled a few lines in her notes.

Twilight nodded. “It doesn’t work. I’ve already tried it.”

The doctor’s eyes glistened as she cocked her head and allowed herself a faint smile. “It was like that when you got here. In fact, it was the only thing you brought with you. It must have carried some meaning. What do you think that is?”

Her sorrow finally abating, Twilight shrugged. “Just another useless thing. It won’t play any music.”

“I disagree. It still has music in it. It’s just not working quite right at the moment.” Canter patted Twilight’s hoof. “I bet you can get it playing again. And your music? It can be whatever you want it to be. We’ll find it together.”

Fresh tears welled up in Twilight’s eyes as schematics of music box mechanisms flashed through her mind. She forced herself to stop, laying her head fully down on its side and sniffling. “Doctor, I... I need help. I... I can’t do this on my own.”

The doctor closed her notepad and laid her pencil next to it, folding her hooves. “Twilight... do you realize that’s the first time you’ve said that since you’ve been here?”

Twilight shook her head, her tears trickling down her cheeks and over her hooves.

Canter smiled and leaned in close to her. “I think we can finally begin. It’s nice to meet you, Twilight Sparkle. I’m Doctor Canter. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”