The Little Girl

In the perfectly ideal world that Twilight Sparkle thought she lived in, she reached her destination without any delays or any inconveniences and was back in the mansion in less than an hour.

In the world Twilight actually lived in, she got absolutely lost.

She walked and walked and walked, her map effortlessly floating before her, and the more she walked, the more lost she felt. The map—a worn-out thing Flint had fetched from inside an old desk—was doing little to help, as well. Words were blurred, streets were crossed out, and many other inconveniences littered the aged guiding tool.

Such was her trouble trying to decipher the map, she missed out on the many sights the grand city offered. The vagrant snoring away on the street, three giggling children poking him with a stick; the lonely musician leaning against a wall, the melody from her guitar failing to persuade Twilight to throw a few coins into her basket; the men and women filing in and out of buildings, doing last-minute weekend affairs; and, finally, the soon-to-be-punished little girl who was far more interested in Twilight than in doing any of the errands she’d sworn to do.

Upon reaching the corner of Frost Lane and North Street, Twilight finally resigned herself to her situation. The young mage sat down on a nearby bench, feeling no small amount of irritation towards poor, darling Flint.

“I should have bought my own map,” she muttered, grasping the offending artefact and glaring at it, as though hard stares might suddenly bring the faded words back to life.

“Can you make it float again?”

Twilight turned around and found a little girl with pink-and-purple hair leaning on the bench’s backrest, her curious eyes set on the map and a lollipop sticking out her mouth.

“I—what?”

“You were floating the map earlier! Can you make it float again? I’ll help you get to where you need to go if you show me,” she offered, walking around the bench and sitting down next to my baffled beloved. At Twilight’s hesitance, she spoke again, offering a small deviously innocent smile. “Please?”

Her smile worked its charms, and it was hardly surprising that it did. She had learnt from the best, after all, which was certainly an annoyance when she’d started using it to get her way into having a bigger allowance.

With a small smile, Twilight let go of the map, her fingertips filling with magic just in time to catch it before it fell to the ground. A quick gesture, and it floated up into the air, displaying itself for the giggling girl to clap at.

“I can do magic too! Look, look!”

With careful delicacy, she lifted her fingers and sparks of magic shot out. As they did, she opened her mouth rather awkwardly, and the lollipop slowly floated out in painfully shaky movements. The child grinned brightly, looking to Twilight with the expectation of glowing praise.

“That’s, uh, very good!” Twilight replied, and though she tried her best, she was hardly a good liar.

I suppose this would be the moment where I introduce this little girl, wouldn’t it? Where I unveil the name and story of this child whom I would die for if her capricious demands didn’t kill me first. However, it would be better to let her do it. She took great pride in declaring herself to the world, you see—a trait she, for better or worse, also learned from me.

“My name is Sweetie Belle,” said my precious sister, putting the lollipop back in her mouth and extending her hand to Twilight.

Twilight reached out to take it and faltered for a moment. My sister’s hand, she noticed, was bruised. Red around the knuckles, small scratches, and though she held it out proudly, it was clear she wasn’t quite able to open it up all the way.

“What’s wrong with your hand?” Twilight asked, concern bubbling in her.

Sweetie blushed, taking back her hand. “N-Nothing! I fell,” she said before extending it out once more with determination. “My name is Sweetie Belle!”

Twilight said nothing. She simply took her hand and shook it gently.

“Are you a witch?” Sweetie asked when she took back her hand. “What’s your name?”

“A mage. And yes, I am,” said Twilight, and held off from explaining that she was actually a mage’s apprentice. “And Twilight. My name, I mean. Twilight Sparkle.”

Sweetie nodded severely, licking on her lollipop much like Sherclop Horse might smoke his pipe. “That’s what I thought it would be.”

She was an odd child, but that is beside the point.

She had also been spending a bit too much time with the local eccentric baker. That too was beside the point.

“Can you do other magic spells?” Sweetie asked after a lick of her candy. She beamed with smug pride when she added, “I bet you can’t do magic like my big sister can.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow, suddenly intrigued by this casual mention of another skilled mage. She would insist, later on, that her attention was struck only because she cared about magic itself and not because she wanted anything silly like friendships or meeting deliriously beautiful girls.

“Oh?” she asked, leaning in. “What kind of magic does she have? Material or flight magic?”

Sweetie Belle giggled, offering Twilight a sly look. “Everyone knows flight magic isn’t real magic,” she said and then grew rather panicked. “Don’t tell Scootaloo I said that, though!” Once she’d been assured by Twilight that this Scootaloo-person would be kept in the dark, she continued. “Sis does normal magic!”

“You mean material magic.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said! Normal magic.”

“…Right.”

“And she can do it better than anyone!” Sweetie continued, the little devil taunting Twilight with her smile. “She can float me up almost six feet!” She licked her lollipop, or what remained of it at least. “Can you do that?”

“I can do more than that,” Twilight replied, the answer pleasing Sweetie and surprising Twilight herself.

Twilight Sparkle, let it be known, was not someone who particularly liked to show off. Magic was not a show to be displayed, but an art to be respected. She shared the awe of the same people who were impressed by her effortless feats of magic.

And yet.

And yet, you see, where Twilight Sparkle came from, magic was hardly rare, and even less so skilled magic users. Her entire family from the northern cities were known for their prowess in the arts of psychokinesis. If she’d never learned to show off, it was simply because she’d never truly had the opportunity to.

Until now, that is.

She jumped onto her feet and turned to Sweetie. “You said your sister can levitate you?”

“Uh-huh!” she replied, practically lifting her arms in preparation for Twilight to do the same, right up until she remembered the pretty dress she was wearing. “Wa-Wait!” she gasped, lifting her hand towards Twilight. “I have my dress on!”

Twilight smiled. “Oh, that’s no problem. You’re not the one I’m levitating.”

My little sister faltered for a moment until her falter became a panicked screech when Twilight snapped her fingers and fwoosh! The entire bench soared up eight feet into the air, Sweetie holding onto it for her dear little life.

There was a moment of silence as Twilight looked up towards the bench, her amused smile starting to turn concerned. Then Sweetie’s head peered down from the bench, her eyes widening.

“You’re a jillion times better at magic than my sister!”

I’d be offended were it not true.

After allowing Sweetie a few minutes of oohs and ahhs and “higher!”s and “lower!”s, she eventually remembered she had an errand to complete and put the bench back in its place. She cleared her throat, grabbing her map and smiling at Sweetie.

“Now, can you tell me how to ge—”

“Can you be my teacher?!” Sweetie rudely interrupted, practically launching herself at the poor mage.

“Y-your teacher?”

“Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeeaaaaaaaase, Professor Twilight!”

“Professor Twilight?” She stepped back, her bewilderment at the situation clouding her desire to point out that she’d need a masters degree in psychokinesis to be called a professor. “But I can’t! I’m not a—! I mean—!”

Sweetie nodded, inflicting upon Twilight my deadliest weapon.

The pout.

Her eyes grew large like a dolls, her lips quivered, and the hint of a tear dripped down her right eye. It was almost masterful in how completely shameless it was. Were I there, I’d have been both immensely proud and incredibly mortified.

“I can show you more magic spells, if you want?” Twilight hesitantly offered, and sighed with relief when Sweetie jumped back, clapping her hands.

“Can we have our first class at Sugarcube Corner on Friday?” Sweetie asked. “The owners will give us free cupcakes!”

“I don’t see why not?”

Satisfied, Sweetie grabbed her bag, moving forwards to hug the mage. “Wait until I tell my sister!” she exclaimed, overjoyed, then rushed off into the street, waving to Twilight as she did so. “Goodbye, Professor Twilight!”

My darling beloved watched her go, the poor dear still unsure of how she’d gotten herself roped into whatever it was she’d gotten herself roped into. Such was her distraction, in fact, that she remembered a very crucial detail just as Sweetie disappeared behind a corner.

“Wait! You didn’t give me directions!”

~ ~ ~

I watched the drop of blood come to life on my fingertip.

I watched as it traveled down the length of my finger, onto my palm and finally died out halfway, leaving behind a red trail. It felt oddly poetic. It reminded me of my favorite childhood book in which a lonely woman pricked her finger and let a drop of her blood fall inside a love potion of her own design.

It was a quiet moment, I felt.

It hardly lasted.

“Rarity!” protested Sweetie Belle, sitting on the other side of my bed, her legs awkwardly tucked under a white nightgown six times her size. It would fit myself fantastically, but her… not so much. “Were you even listening?”

I briefly glanced her way before taking a nearby tissue and wiping the blood off my hand. That done, I returned my gaze to my sister and asked, “Listened to what?”

Her groan of utter exasperation amused me endlessly, and I placed my index finger inside my mouth, stopping the flow of blood with a quick suck of my tongue.

“Rarity!” Sweetie continued. “That’s gross!”

“Is it?” I asked. “You know, it’s said that when humans first came to be, we lived under the earth and had veins made of solid iron and copper until we came out into the surface and the sun melted them into blood.”

Sweetie’s delightful face scrunched into a frown, mouth opening and closing. “That… You just made that up!” she declared, crossing her arms.

I sighed theatrically, as one does. “Maybe I did, maybe I did not! It certainly won’t stop you from asking your teacher tomorrow regardless, now will it?”

“Why’d you ask me to stay here tonight if you’re just gonna tease me?” she asked in a huff. “We were going to eat chocolate cake at school for dinner!”

I laughed, finally allowing my sister respite from myself. I grabbed the needle that had pricked me and returned to sewing a dress together. “All right, all right,” I relented. “You were telling me about how you approached a complete stranger, struck up conversation, and then cheered with shameless abandon as she flung you into the air without a care for your safety?”

Sweetie blushed. “That’s not what I said! And she wasn’t a stranger.” She lifted her nose in the air, and with no small amounts of condescension, told me the sublime name of this strange mage. “Her name is Twilight Sparkle.”

“Twilight Sparkle,” I repeated, tasting the name on my lips. “Quite the charming name, I’ll admit.”

My sister nodded furiously. “And she’s going to give me magic lessons so I can be like you!”

I raised an eyebrow. “Magic lessons?”

“Uh-huh! We’re starting next Friday at Sugarcube Corner.”

I put down my needle and fluttered my eyelashes at her. “And pray tell, dearest, how exactly were you planning on paying for this private tutor, hm?”

“I’m paying for it,” Sweetie said. “With my allowance.”

I leaned in, smiling dazzlingly. “With your grand allowance of ten coins?”

“Fifteen coins!” Sweetie interjected. “You gave me a raise last week!”

I leaned back, a flicker of magic bringing forth my glasses and putting them on. “Oh, I’d forgotten about that. Well, dear sister,” I said, the smile vanishing from my face, “I imagine you’ll have a frightful time convincing me not to punish you for attending this worryingly cheap class.”

“P-punish me?!” she gasped, moving back. “Why are you punishing me?”

“Miss Cheerilee called me today,” I said curtly, taking no pleasure in seeing Sweetie’s face turn a shade paler as she quickly buried her bruised hand into her nightgown. “She told me you were involved in a disagreement, to put it nicely.”

“I—I—” She gulped down and tears quickly wet her eyes. “It wasn’t my fault!”

“Oh?” I put my sewing materials away and took off my glasses. “So Miss Cheerilee was lying when she said you started it? Are you calling her a liar? You do understand that is quite the accusation, don’t you? Was she lying?”

Sweetie Belle said nothing. She simply shook her head.

“Then why did you hit that Golden Ribbon girl?” I asked with severity.

“She called you the bad word,” she replied quietly.

A heavy silence followed, heavy as the weight in my heart, broken only when she spoke again. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again…”

“I should hope so, Sweetie,” I said, putting my glasses back on. “After all, rather than hitting her, I think you’ll feel much more satisfaction in the future at her jealousy when she sees all the fabulous magic spells you’ll learn with this Twilight Sparkle woman.”