While on the way to Tinder Heart's cottage, Twilight looks up at the now-clear sky, and ponders whether she should be proud of her actions in Ponyville . Certainly, she's accomplishing the task she's been given. In her private rhetoric, that's her gold standard: a double entendre for, yes, an exemplary prototype for comparison, but also for a shining ensign representing her expeditions in the name of Celestia. Carry out the responsibilities you have been given: this is how Twilight repays the Princess. But on the other hoof, it would come as no surprise if every single pony she's met today hated her. Applejack, Fluttershy, and Derpy, definitely. Rarity and Rainbow Dash, maybe, maybe not. And that insane pink earth pony must have thought she was a changeling infiltrator or a maggot crawling out of the darkened earth or Celestia knows what. She tries to remind herself that none of it matters, not really. In twenty-four hours, Ponyville will be a catalog of minor mistakes and victories to enumerate when taking inventory. She's here for one job, one which is proceeding well. Not without hiccup, but it's getting done.

Except that's not strictly true, is it? She doesn't have just one responsibility. The Princess's letter was very clear about her ancillary task in Ponyville: make friends. It's true, there doesn't seem to be much of a direct point in it. But the Princess has always worried about her, and she's wondered exactly how much that had to do in securing her position as the Princess's protégé, and how much that worry has guided Celestia's treatment of her in general. Certainly, both her notable status and her closeness to the Princess have helped mitigate her natural aversion to socialization. But, as time goes on and Twilight continually fails to achieve the same breakthroughs in pony interaction as she does in magical science, maybe the Princess believes more forceful measures are warranted, like a direct order.

"The fate of Equestria does not rest on me making friends!" Twilight exclaims to Spike.

Having not been paying attention to her internal monologue, he's confused. "Um, what's on your mind, Twi?"

"Celestia knows me. She knows I would interpret her 'suggestion' to make friends as a direct order, one that I'd be hopelessly incompetent at! What am I supposed to tell her? That I tried?! Twilight Sparkle doesn't just try to fulfill her responsibilities to the Princess!"

"Probably... nothing?" Spike offers. "It didn't seem like a demand to me, Twilight." But from the sound of it, she already knows that.

Twilight closes her eyes. She sees a brilliant golden flag billowing atop a dark, cloudy hill, deep in uncharted territory, on the edge of some fraying ancient map. Celestia knows Twilight isn't the kind of pony who could treat her word as anything but law. Celestia knows that some things are just harder for some ponies than others. Celestia knows Twilight. Celestia knows, but she still asked.

"I can't leave Ponyville without making at least one friend."

Twilight and Spike enter the candle shop to find a unicorn stallion sitting behind the counter, resting his head in his hooves. His coat is the color of faded bubblegum; his mane and tail are a blazing red at the roots, blooming into orange and then a faint white at the tips. Presently, his attention is riveted to an empty upper corner of the room, but he seems complacent, not anxious.

"From the looks of it, you must be Tinder Heart?" Twilight asks. He's even got markings to match: orange bursts on his hooves, and a faint glow around his muzzle.

He doesn't visibly snap into alertness, he just rights his head and looks at her. "Oh, hi! Yeah, that's me! Ponyville's resident candle-maker. How can I help you?" he says.

"I'm Twilight Sparkle, emissary of Princess Celestia. I'm sent to oversee preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration. This is my assistant, Spike." She realizes she'll never have to say that line again, and her mood lightens just enough to clear the coming hurdles.

"Oh, I see. Well, everything's going great on my end, Twilight Sparkle. We could step into the storeroom if you want to check things out for yourself."

"Sure, that sounds perfect," says Twilight. Striving to achieve both tasks in parallel, she adds, "Do you go by Tinder for short?"

"Sure enough, I do. And you go by Twilight, I assume?"

"...I do." She verifies his gaze is on her, then effects a smile.

"Great! It's wonderful to meet you, Twilight! And you too, Spike," he says to the dragon trailing behind them. He invites her to step around the counter, and opens the door behind it. "Well, here's the storeroom."

Twilight sees row after row of flawless hoofmade candles, and a tiny, ordered part of her purrs. She's dealing with a stallion who takes as much care of his stock as she does with her books. They're far more extravagant than any she's ever seen before; strips of wax are rolled down, twisted around, and scraped away in intricate designs. Some of the candles have their inner layers of color revealed by the peeling; some are just solid tones. Each is in a hue of the sun or the morning sky, and the shades vary from dark to light.

"They're so beautiful!" Twilight gasps. "I had no idea candles could be so gorgeous and regal!"

Tinder chuckles. "No one ever does. Care to take one as a housewarming gift? No charge, of course."

"That's quite all right. I'm only staying the night," says Twilight, before she catches herself. Accepting or giving gifts graciously is an effective way to kickstart a friendship, she's read. Hopefully, the ship has not sailed; other ponies often repeat themselves.

"Night's the best time for a candle!" There's still hope. "Besides, you look like a reader."

Twilight blinks. "How did you know?"

"Your diction and enunciation are impeccable. You've been staring into space since you got here. And last but not least, your friend Derpy told me so."

Friend? "She's been by?"

"Yep! Well, we met for muffins, rather." He grins. "I do confess, I already knew you were in town. I made sure everything here was in order. You should've seen this place an hour ago!"

Twilight smiles; she's been had, fair and square. "You win, Tinder. I would love to accept a candle."

"Spendid! Take your pick of any of them; I play no favorites. And there's more than enough for the festival, so don't worry."

Wait... Derpy went out for muffins again, after I met her at the cafe?

"If you need a firestarter, I'll toss in some flint, but I expect a study like yourself knows her way around a basic flame spell."

"You're right, I'm proficient with magic." Twilight doesn't quite know how to continue speaking, so she starts browsing the rows of candles, unsure of what criterion she's expected to choose by. She ends up picking a spiraling piece with alternating burnt yellow and umber layers, pretty much at random. "This one looks great." When she levitates it to her side, it's heftier than she expected, but it feels light as air to her at that moment.

"Wonderful! Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"I don't think so." There really isn't.

"Well, then." Tinder starts walking out of the storeroom. "It was great meeting you!"

"...You too, Tinder." She follows him, then walks out the door.

A few meters down the road, Spike can't withhold his enthusiasm any longer. "Twilight, you were great! I think you made a real friend!"

"I think befriending Tinder is setting the hurdle to the lowest height," she says, picturing his blazing scarlet heart of a cutie mark. "And there was no substance to that interaction, just pleasantries." She thinks of the minor prank he pulled on her, and she thinks about how her smile in response felt. "But... yeah. It did go pretty well."

"Well? He totally thought you were awesome!" Spike says.

Twilight pulls herself closer into her body. "...Maybe. Either way, the sky looks clear now, so it's finally time for us to go home."

"Sure, Twi," says Spike. "We have a couple hours before sunset. Do you wanna do anything before we go home for the night?" Spike knows perfectly well what her answer will be. He always does, but he always asks. They're almost to the library door, anyway.

"...It's been a long day, Spike. Even though it went better overall than I expected, I don't think further pony interaction would be... healthy," Twilight tells him.

She opens the door and screams.