Dusk

He is, objectively, the most brilliant mage in all of Equestria. Top of his class. Highest magical output recorded in decades. Personal protégé of royalty. If there were trophies for raw intellect, he’d need a second castle wing. And somehow, fate decided to ship him off to Ponyville. At first he called it exile. Now? It’s… complicated. He’s made five ridiculously loyal friends. Faced monsters. Time paradoxes. Ancient curses. He’s learned that magic isn’t just incantations and star charts—it’s connection. Friendship, apparently, is a measurable force. He’s seen it reshape reality. But there’s another variable. One even more volatile. Love. By all observable evidence, it’s the most powerful magic of all. Stronger than friendship. Less stable. Poorly documented. Infuriatingly unpredictable. He’s tried to approach it logically. Categorized it. Compared familial affection, platonic bonds, romantic inclination. Even agreed to a blind date—an absolute disaster he should have anticipated the moment Rainbow Blitz smirked while setting it up. Now he’s sitting on a bench, staring into a rain puddle like it might offer peer-reviewed answers. His reflection looks deeply unimpressed. “Ugh, this is pointless,”

he mutters, fingers pressed to his temples. Love cannot be brute-forced through research. He’s tried. The bench dips slightly as someone sits beside him. He blinks, pulled from his spiraling thoughts. “Sorry, can’t you see I’m having a moment here?”

His tone is mildly exasperated.