Young Twilight liked pretending. With her magical surges, though, “pretend” was a relative term. None of the other fillies wanted to play with her. Instead, they hid in doorways, toilets, classrooms: the playground was Twilight’s alone. Because when she played doctor, fillies were struck down with everything from Pony Pox to the Trots. When she played cops-and-robbers, the groundskeeper discovered a dungeon and crying foals trapped in chains. When she played Tag, no one wanted to be “It”. Foals would rather hide for hours than let Twilight make them “It”. “Sorry! Sorry!” said Twilight, to her classmates and tutors and headmasters and, when they were summoned, parents. She went from one establishment to another; however well she started off, sooner or later there’d be the first scream. This was in Magic Kindergarten. [hr] One bedtime, Twilight Velvet listened at the door, waiting for sobs to die away. Her daughter was best not disturbed while emotional. Carefully she knocked, then entered slowly so not to startle Twilight. “I brought Smarty-Pants.” Velvet tucked the doll in next to Twilight. “You haven’t tidied your room?” Twilight’s face was blank. “Tidying rooms is boring.” “We have to take care of our home.” “Home is boring.” “Is everything all right?” Twilight squeezed Smarty-Pants. “Got my friend. Don’t need anyone else. [i]Don’t need anyone else[/i]…” Velvet bit her lip; she recognized the signs. “You know who’d make an amazing friend?” “Who?” “Princess Celestia.” Little ears rose at once. “Oh yes,” said Velvet happily. “She’s very powerful, and very special. Just like you. And she goes on adventures and meets all kinds of weird, wonderful friends.” “I’m like Princess Celestia?” “Oh yes. You like going out the house, exploring places. Scares me silly sometimes, but still. And I bet you could have lots of friends someday.” Very, very little now, the voice said, “I could have friends?” “As many as you wanted.” “Really?” “Really. You’re my little hero-to-be.” Velvet kissed her; Twilight’s eyes were already drooping, a slit shining with dreams. On her way out, Velvet heard: “Thank you, Mommy.” Her smile trembled under the first dribble of tears. [hr] The incident occurred the next day. Velvet hummed one of her old mother’s favourite tunes while carrying groceries back home. When she returned, her husband spoke fast, gestured wildly, pointed upstairs. Velvet listened. Her smile died. Her groceries hit the floor. She was lightning up those stairs. Already she heard the happy voice before she burst into Twilight’s room. Twilight smiled and waved from a table. She was back from Magic Kindergarten for lunch, an unusual circumstance in itself. Having a tea party. Five of her classmates. Dribbling. Eyes glowing green. Legs moving like puppets. Twilight’s horn. Aglow. Casting magic. She had all kinds of weird and wonderful friends now. As many as she wanted. [hr] The living room. At one end: Twilight, hiding behind a book. At the other: Velvet, watching her daughter. “They weren’t weird and wonderful,” said Twilight coldly. “I don’t need un-special friends. I can look after myself. Like Princess Celestia.” “That’s enough,” said Velvet. She was shaking. Velvet should have been overwhelmed with motherly concern. But she felt cold fear. What was this creature, taking her daughter’s place? Some [i]enfant terrible[/i] who turned ponies into zombies? Should something like that ever be allowed…? Then she shook herself down. No! Somewhere in there was her Twilight. She moved forwards… Glowing eyes glared up. “I’m [i]reading![/i]” Coldness seized Velvet, froze her mid-step. Sheer terror escaped her motherly self-control. Her face contorted. She screamed. Glowing eyes dimmed. Twilight’s own quivered. Then came her long, low whine, the beginnings of a shocked sob. Velvet leaped, seizing Twilight tightly. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she said, to herself and to her crying daughter. “Nothing happened.” “I’M SORRY!” The voice was muffled by Velvet’s chest. “I didn’t MEAN to!” “I know you didn’t.” “I don’t WANT to be special! I HATE it!” “You haven’t learned how to control it yet. These things take time. You like tidying your room? A nice, everyday thing?” “I… like… being tidy…” “Yes. Lots of ponies do. You can make friends for very boring, everyday things.” Gently, she tilted the tear-stained face up and smiled. “One of the most boring, everyday things is that everyone deep down, no matter how special, is still a pony. Okay?” Eventually… “Okay.” Velvet delayed releasing her daughter for as long as she could. Inevitably, though, she had to. When she did, she saw Twilight. Behind a book. Alone.