Twilight yawned and blinked her eyes to focus on the wavering printing on the parchment in front of her. The main room of the library was a complete mess; every flat surface was covered with papers. Books lay open across the floor, and a half-dozen scrolls were neatly stacked in her saddlebags, waiting to be delivered in the morning. At least the messages to Princess Celestia had been sent—it had been the last thing Spike did before he trudged up the stairs to bed.