Off on a Tangent

Most people who know me know that I’m not really an especially magical pony. Sure, I use magic to play the lyre, or to summon music without a lyre, or to carry groceries or to mute the stupid roosters and blot out the light of the sun when I want to sleep in, but Bon Bon is the magical crazy pony of the household. She’s a really gifted alchemist – if ponies knew half the things she experimented with, they probably wouldn’t be so quick to buy her candy!

So ask yourself, what kind of crazy pony would live with a pony like that?

Well, yes. I said ‘a crazy pony’. I was asking you to be more specific.

Hmm, I suppose ‘a masochist’ fits. But no! I mean, sure, yes, but no that’s not the important quality that I’m talking about here. If I wasn’t fascinated by the study of magic, there’s no way I’d live with Bonsy.

Now, I didn’t go to the School for Gifted Unicorns or anything – there’s a pretty nasty entrance exam that takes a ridiculous amount of studying to expect from a five year old. And if you pass that, the practical exam is a bitch. Well, that’s for the scholarship – you can also get in if your parents have oodles of money and (this is the important part) are willing to spend it on you.

No, I went to the Canterlot Academy, which is sort of a bargain basement copycat school for unicorn fillies whose parents are too cheap or not noble enough to get them into Celestia’s school. I learned a lot there! But every so often all my friends would be busy, or grounded, and I’d actually go to class, so I picked up a bit of the boring magic theory too.

Can you imagine what it’s like for Twilight Sparkle, to live in a town where I’m the second most magical unicorn?

No, Rarity’s fourth, after Minuette. And both of them are more ‘cast by the fluff of your flank’ types anyway. Neither of them was going to be able to cast a spell off an ancient scroll smuggled out of the restricted section of the Canterlot Library.

I wasn’t sure that I really wanted to be the one to do it either. “Isn’t time magic forbidden? I thought it degraded the fabric of the fate web or something like that.”

“It’s not forbidden,” Twilight said a little too loudly. “It’s restricted. And since I’m a princess, I’m able to grant permission to use the restricted spells. See?” She held up an official looking scroll that did, indeed, grant me permission to cast the spell.

“No, no, I’m not trying to imply that you’re going to get me tossed into the dungeon, I’m just wondering if this is really a good idea. You’re trying to change the past.”

“Look, Lyra, I don’t have a choice,” Twilight said. She pointed at her chalkboard, which was covered in incomprehensible mathematics. I was pretty sure they were differential equations. “Look at this mess! I’m never going to get it done in time for the Equinox. The only solution is time travel.”

“This scroll says right at the top that the spell can’t be used to change the past,” I pointed out.

“It creates stable time loops,” Twilight explained. “That makes it difficult to change the past, but not impossible. I’ll send you back with a memory orb containing the work I’ve done so far, and you use it on my past self so that she can continue from there. When that me gets to the present, I do the same thing, except that I’m farther along in the calculations. When I finally finish, I send you back anyway with a memory crystal that gives the same starting point as I received, and the loop becomes stable. QED.”

“It’s not QED until you actually give me the proof that it works,” I pointed out.

“And when you get back to the new present where I’ve finished the proof, you’ll have it.” Twilight said. “But first, you need to go back in time and use this memory crystal on my past self.” She tossed a little glass sphere to me, which I almost caught in my magic before remembering that that would activate it. I snatched it out of the air with my teeth instead, with a nasty ‘clack’ that left my gums aching.

“And use it right away! Don’t let me sidetrack you. Don’t let anything sidetrack you! Coincidence is going to try to force a simpler stable loop.”

I sighed, stashed the orb in my saddlebag, and focused on the magical spell outlined on Twilight’s restricted spell scroll. There was a flash, a crackle, a roar, a prickly numbness covering my entire body, and then – I was back in the library, next to Twilight, except that her blackboard was blank.

She grinned widely as she saw me appear. “Oh my gosh, Lyra? I didn’t know you could cast time spells! Are you from next Twosday?”

“Yep,” I said, and reached into my saddlebags to pick up the memory crystal. With my teeth. “’Ere, catch,” I said, tossing it to her.

She caught it in her teeth.

“You’re supposed to use your magic,” I said.

She dropped it carefully onto a table. “I didn’t want to activate it by mistake.”

“Well, activate it by not-mistake, then. You need to activate it.”

“How do I know you’re not a changeling?” she asked. “Or a spy? Tricking someone into activating a memory orb is a classic move.”

“Just do it,” I said.

“I’m not –“

“Do it,” I repeated, leaping towards her and poking her with a hoof. “Do it do it do it do it!”

“That’s not a logical argument!”

“Doooo eeeet!” I said, grimacing. “If you don’t do it, then future Twilight is going to be really disappointed that she didn’t get her presentation ready in time for the Equinox.”

Twilight glanced at the blackboard. “I have a whole week…”

“Next Twosday, you’re out of time, and not finished yet. Use the orb.”

“Twilight?” came Spike’s voice from upstairs. “Where do –“ I deadened the sound in the room. Twilight’s mouth moved as her eyes narrowed. I pointed a hoof at the orb, and she stomped her feet in that cute little way she does when she’s frustrated, and touched her horn to the memory orb – and then collapsed.

I let the sound spell lapse, and went over to check her eyes, using my hooves so as not to disturb the memories as they magically played out inside her head. No, she wasn’t faking. I could see the images rapidly spinning by inside her pupils.

“Twilight? Are you okay?” Spike asked, looking down at me in my black spandex time-travelling outfit, standing over an unconscious Twilight with my hoof poised over her head. “Hey! What do you think you’re –“

I jumped back, and felt my skin start to prickle as the duration on the time spell wore out. “It’s okay, Spike! I’ll see you next Twosday!”

And then, with a flash, I was back.

Twilight sighed, disappointed. “What went wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said. “I gave you the orb.”

“If you gave me the orb, then explain that!” she snapped, pointing at the chalkboard, which had the same messy differential equations as it had had before I left. “Do you see a QED there?”

I squinted a bit. “I really can’t tell. Your hornwriting is terrible, Twilight.”

“There is no QED. I haven’t made any progress!”

“Well, I was pulled back just after I gave you the orb,” I said. “What do you remember about my visit? What made you not use it as a starting point?”

Twilight froze.

“Please tell me you remember my visit,” I said, getting a little nervous.