From forever, with love

Chapters

Retrochronia
Isochronia
Prochronia
Epichronia

Retrochronia

“I am supposed to do what?” exclaimed Twilight Sparkle loudly, as her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Just spy on him,” answered Princess Celestia. “I know it’s a grim task, but you’ll be under the protection of the gaseous form spell I will cast on you before you leave. Nobody will be aware you’re present. Not even him. You’ll be able to follow him everywhere, sneaking under doors and windows; just beware of strong winds that could blow you away. Neither will you be subject to harm, tiredness, thirst or hunger. Perfect elusiveness. No risks. Honest.”

“But why do you want me to do that?” wondered Twilight, still halfway between surprise and incredulity.

“You know his death has always been obscure,” explained Celestia. “Rumor has it that he committed suicide. But why would such a talented unicorn commit such a ludicrous act? He had no reason to. He was not depressed, nor was he feeling despondent. In fact, he was at the peak of his life. So why would he suddenly decide to end it? That has always been a mystery to me. I know it is not an easy thing I ask, but I wouldn’t pose it if I didn’t believe in you, my dearest student. Besides, it’s a unique opportunity to encounter the one you consider as a hero.”

“I did not know Starswirl committed suicide,” Twilight grumbled. “Why couldn’t you find out right away?”

“Alas,” sighed Celestia. “I was away on a crucial diplomatic mission when it happened, and he was living alone in a remote and isolated mansion, so that nopony used to visit him on a daily basis; his corpse was discovered only two days after the tragedy, and, of course, there were no witnesses. I even barely managed to come back for the funeral. This was one of the darkest moments of my life…”

Twilight shook her head: “You could have gone back in time immediately after, rather than waiting almost eleven hundred centuries?” she retorted.

Celestia raised herself from the throne and began pacing to and fro, thoughtfully, as Twilight’s eyes were locked on her. “You know”, she said after a short while, “a time travel spell isn’t just a cracker for any callow unicorn to play with. Matter of fact, it is so perilous that its use is restricted to alicorns, both as casters and recipients; and one cannot cast it on oneself at that. But Luna and Cadence have always refused to give it a try: unconscionable, they object – and, in a way, they’re very right. A lot of things can go wrong, and the slightest alteration made to the eld can have enormous consequences here in the present. Trample inadvertently on the wrong bug a million years ago, and half of today’s forms of life disappear in the wink of an eye, and maybe you, too. That’s why the gaseous form spell is so important: not only you can observe everything unnoticed, but under that disguise you can’t touch or move or interfere with any material object, so the past is safe from any blunder you could make. As for voyaging into the future, well…” Her voice trailed away and she rose her head as if looking through the roof at some unknown place far above. “Not even he,” she whispered so softly that Twilight barely heard the words.

“Who’s he?” wondered, in a hushed voice, a Twilight suddenly intrigued.

Celestia came back to her senses, emerging from a brief, but deep reverie. “What? Oh…” She hesitated slightly. “Well, Starswirl, who’s else? But it’s just not possible. At least, the right spell has not been discovered. And maybe it’s better this way.” She smiled faintly. “So,” she continued, “neither Luna nor Cadence would have accepted. And I was beginning to be seriously concerned with my sister’s temperamental outbursts, so I just gave up and hoped new elements would surface later. But they did not.”

“I still don’t understand,” Twilight protested. “I know this spell: I’ve used it once. You can’t go back in time beyond a single week and you can’t stay in the past more than a few seconds. Besides—”

“Twilight!” Celestia cut in. “The spell you mention is just a toy. And even though, it is an eldritch toy. I should have removed the parchment from the archive, but I forgot; I’ll do it right away, after we end this conversation. The real enchantment, called Retrochronia, is much, much more potent. It lets you pick up any time frame, and you can remain there for up to a month. It was once written, but I rote memorized the formula and burnt the scroll. That’s why you’ve never heard about it.”

“So now…” Twilight hesitated.

“Yes,” confirmed Celestia, nodding. “You’ve perfectly understood. You’re my only hope. I cannot cast the spell on myself, and, admitting I had time to teach you the formula, I couldn’t absent myself for a whole month—”

“A whole month!?” squealed Twilight. “You intend to send me back in time for a whole month?”

“My dearest pupil, I need to know what happened,” insisted Celestia. “When I last saw Starswirl, before leaving for this mission, he was just fine. Busy as always with arcane matters, but fine. Then I went away, and the inexplicable happened. What I intend to do is send you back exactly the day after I left. As far as I remember, that is precisely four weeks, or twenty-eight days, before Starswirl took his own life.”

“Yes, of course,” responded Twilight, “but I never imagined I could meet him in the flesh. Meet… so to speak. And then watching him during the last days of his existence… This whole thing makes me queasy. Prying on another’s life… and even death, that’s a blatant breach of privacy, no? Even if he’s been dead for such a long time.” She squirmed, ever-so-slightly.

Celestia smiled. “Twilight! You’re such an adorable filly. Don’t worry, Starswirl never indulged himself into anything near what we call a ‘private life’. Except for a few lunch breaks, his morning toilette and other trivialities, the entirety of his days were devoted to magical research exclusively; nothing else had any importance to his eyes. Especially not fillies or fellow colts. He was living alone, I recall you. In fact, the only other ponies with whom he had a regular contact were Luna and myself. As long as you won’t follow him into his bathroom, you won’t breach on anything.”

“Why do you speak of him so callously? He was one of your closest friends and pupil, also, no?” asked Twilight, somewhat shocked.

The smile on Celestia’s face faded, and she replied in a harsher tone. “My dear student, as you noted, he’s been dead for more than a millenium. I know it can sound revolting. Since you’re so young – matter of fact you’re not even halfway of your normal lifespan – you have not realized yet, but, faced with the burden of immortality, this is the only way to go. If I had to grieve for eternity all the ponies I knew and cared for, my life would be dreary and sullen. When you’re eternal, your thoughts have to be focussed forward on the future, not backward on the past. You must enjoy the company of the ponies you love while they live, then, when they leave this world, grieve for a time, but then carry on, because other ponies, very alive, need you. No place for the doldrums. There is no escape to it, no sane choice but going ahead.” She stared at her student with blazing eyes.

Twilight blushed and lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t know. I understand.”

“Oh no!” replied Celestia, gritting her teeth. “You don’t understand. You only think you do. But you will, eventually. You will feel it deep in your very flesh, like an open gash that never heals. And maybe sooner than you expect. This is the curse we alicorns all share.”

There was a hush, and in the now undisturbed room nothing resounded anymore but the dampened and distant hum of the busy city down below the castle. Winter sunrays were flashing through the various stained glasses, producing bright shafts of colored light that cast variegated and shifting patches on the glossy floor, crisscrossing each other in ever-changing patterns as the clouds scurried in the sky, pushed by the wind. It was a mesmerizing spectacle, a slow dance of flat, ephemeral but effulgent blotches, unfolding in an unreal silence. Twilight found herself fascinated.

At last, Celestia broke the tenseness in a voice that had reassumed its characteristic mellow tone. “Let’s speak no further of it. Will you do that for me?” she asked softly.

At great cost, Twilight turned her attention away from the glistening spots at her feet and rose her head to look straight in her mentor’s eyes. “Yes,” she answered, “I will. And I beg forgiveness for being sanctimonious to you.”

“Thank you so much!” said Celestia soberly. “Be ready by the day after tomorrow. We will wait for dusk and then travel together to the edge of the Everfree forest, where the former house of Starswirl was built. The spell acts in time, not in space, and I want you to arrive directly into his premises.”

“Very well,” Twilight acknowledged. “I will be there.”

Celestia walked to her pupil and hugged her, nuzzling at her tenderly. “Thank you again,” she whispered. “You don’t know how precious you are to me. I, too, apologize for being so rude to you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” murmured Twilight. She was perceiving the warmth of the princess’ breath in her neck. It was pleasant. She relaxed, let the feeling seep deep into her, as when, back into the years when she was just a small foal, her mother took her in her hooves and crooned a soft lullaby; she would then close her eyes and abandon herself to a fearless slumber. She had always been longing for such cuddles since.

They reluctantly broke their embrace.

“Good bye!” said Twilight, preparing herself to leave.

“Take care!” responded Celestia. “See you in two days.”

⁂

It was about midnight, the sky was very clear and riddled with stars. Under the empyrean, the glen was gloomy and narrow, almost a chasm in the mountain ridge nearby. The Moon, whose pale glow could be glimpsed over the high crest towering high above the place, had not risen enough to illuminate the scenery. In fact, it was so dark that the two alicorns had to cast a light enchantment to dispel the surrounding shadows.

Had Twilight hoped to find the standing remains of a high and mysterious mansion, she would have been quite disappointed. Of Starswirl the Bearded’s former den, no more than a few sparse stones, irregularly shaped and sometimes strangely riven, were to be found. Rampant and thorny weeds had almost invaded the whole area, letting but a single, rather skimpy grassy patch where both alicorns had alighted. Not far away, but hidden by the dense scrub, a small brook could be heard babbling, flowing peacefully over mossy cobbles.

“Where are the remains of the building?” asked Twilight, glancing around in search of a high standing structure. “Why is there nothing left?”

“Firstly, his house was not in good shape when he died,” explained Celestia. “But it certainly could have been renovated. Unfortunately, a few years later, there was a short period of sustained rain, and the rill you hear nearby overflew and became a furious torrent. The spate was so mighty that it broke the building asunder, and about every stone, furniture and other contraptions were smashed and swept away in the fury. All that remained was the scant rubble you can now hardly make out.”

“But what happened to the books and the scrolls he wrote?!” exclaimed Twilight.

“Oh, I had them all transferred to a safer place in the old castle of mine before that,” replied Celestia. “Do you think I was foolish enough to let such precious knowledge within crumbling walls?”

“No, of course!” admitted Twilight. “And yet… how to know if there weren’t secret rooms or secluded shelves…”

“That’s a possibility, but rather unlikely. Starswirl was not especially secretive on his researches. He considered his discoveries as public domain, even though he resented any intrusion into his life as a quasi personal attack – that’s why he elected to live in such a barren part of the kingdom. But he had no need to protect his possessions: most of his works were too obscure, and most of his apparatuses too complex for anypony but the most expert to figure out.”

By the time Celestia finished speaking, the wan face of the Moon hauled itself above the ominous shapes of the mountains, bathing the landscape in a ghostly glimmer. “Good!” said Celestia, and her horn ceased shining. “I have to rely on moonlight, because I can’t cast the Retrochronia spell while simultaneously having another one active.” She turned slightly to face her student. “Ready for the big leap, Twilight?”

Twilight, head lowered, was scuffing the turf with her right foreleg; she obviously felt uncomfortable. “I suppose yes,” she muttered. “But–”

“Yes, yes,” interrupted Celestia. “I know I must first transform you into gaseous form. Let’s get this over with.”

She lowered her head, and her horn began to glow anew, but this time a shaft a orange light suddenly sprang forth and stroke directly at Twilight’s body, whose shape began to waver and lose opaqueness, as if it was gradually thinning out, until all that remained was but a ghastly outline that, in turn, faded away into the surrounding darkness. Nothing was left of the alicorn, at least nothing to be seen. The magical ray vanished, and Celestia rose his head.

“Very good!” She nodded. “I can still see you as a tenuous tendril of thin vapor, but I am the only one, as the caster, that is able to do so. To everypony else, even my sister, it is now as if you do not exist anymore.

“Now harken to me attentively. Under this form, as I said to you, you’ll be completely undetectable. Nothing can harm you, but you can act on nothing, nor can you cast any spell, since you won’t be able to speak. You’ll be able to move at a limited speed – sufficient to keep abreast with somepony trotting or to oppose a mild air motion, but not much quicker. So, I beg you again, shun the strong wings or drafts. While you don’t risk being harmed, they would blow you away to such distance that you would not be able to come back easily. If you do abide by this only rule, you will be safe and able to slink into the most minute interstices, and almost no room should be proof from you.

“Now to the time spell. As I said to you the day before yesterday, I will tweak the formula so that you arrive the day after I left for my diplomatic mission in Hippothalassia. You’ll stay in the past for exactly twenty-nine days and twelve hours, that is two days after Starswirl’s purported date of death, exactly when the body was discovered. I cannot take any chance: he might have committed suicide later than reported. Your return will be automatic: at the precise end of this period, not one second later, the spell will spontaneously work backward – so to speak – and carry you back in our present. You must be around here by that time, because, I recall you, the spell does not change your location, so you would reappear at the selfsame spot you were on the other time frame, and under the gaseous form, you would have to glide to Canterlot and find me to reform your normal body, and that could take a lot of time. I don’t want you forever lost in Equestria’s atmosphere, desperately trying to get back to me while winds endeavor to shove you away. So be wary and don’t wander off. That’s all. Good luck my dearest pupil.”

Twilight had been feeling strange. This spell was really astonishing. While evaporating into thin air, she had become somehow numb: the deep cold she was experiencing under the freezing winter’s night had suddenly disappeared; yet somehow she was still able to feel her absent body, to see, hear and smell, as if she was totally discarnate. So she listened cautiously to the instructions, while exploring the possibilities of her new disguise.

She saw Celestia bow her head once more, and mutter some strange words. Flashing and flurrying lights gathered around her horn, twirled for a while in a rainbow whorl, then faded away. Nothing seemed to happen. The Princess took a normal posture again and scrutinized what was now Twilight with a strange expression in her eyes, almost of… sadness? Twilight reflexively squinted to look better, but the image of Celestia was inexplicably getting smeared, as if seen through a frosty glass. The fuzziness increased, and Twilight found difficult to fix her gaze on the now shimmering shape of the Princess. She glanced around in the darkness, but nothing definite could be seen neither; her eyes were drawn above, and encountered the bright lunar disc. It proved to be too much a strain for her sight. Exactly at the moment it dawned on her that this was the effect of the time spell, a strong headache seized her. She heard the princess utter some words that she could not fully catch – light… ry… oyce ? – just before a black veil suddenly obscured what vision she had left and she swooned.

⁂

She was lost amidst the void, surrounded by a boundless and tenebrous infinity. How long had she been there, she did not know. Nothing existed, but a pervasive and almost solid silence that seemed to sink into her innermost entrails. No, not complete silence, she suddenly realized: she was hearing a remote, very faint rumble, as of thunder, but continuous. As it was the only thing she could perceive, she concentrated on that noise, and soon she reckoned that it was growing louder, as if approaching. Not thunder… rather… rather what? What else did she know? Her mind was floundering… rather… yes, liquid, water, tempest, sea… Waves. Definitely, that was it. She had pinpointed it. Billows. Crashing on… crashing on what? Closing in fast now. Now there was no doubt. The monstrous tide of an unknown ocean was coming, coming right at her… The noise had become a bellow, a loud and continuous din that echoed in all directions. Flee! Flee you fool! You will be destroyed! she abruptly thought. Must flee! But she couldn’t move, transfixed. Death! Flee! Can’t… Flee! RUN AWAY! CANNOT… *CANNOT*…

⁂

Panting, her body drenched in her own sweat, she opened her eyes to a pitch blackness. Still terrorized by her vision, she durst not move. On the contrary, she instinctively hunkered down, as her mind prepared for the wave to sweep her away. But seconds elapsed, and nothing happened. Wherever she was, there was no light, but no ominous uproar anymore. Just a peaceful stillness. She relaxed somewhat and became conscious of a small draft around her; it was fresh, but not cold. Draft… she thought. There was something she should know about drafts. But what is it? What is it? She tried to focus, but it was fuzzy, remote. She could not recall precisely.

Eventually she began to recover: she breathed deeply as her body unwound. She felt, under her belly, the solid and familiar presence of stones, of a floor. I must be in a room, she reckoned. With that deduction, more confidence returned, and she cautiously and silently raised herself on all fours. She was still slightly quivering with what fear what left, but it was manageable. I cannot stay here. I must find an exit. There has to be a wall, and a door, and a passage. I will walk forward till I find them.

She mustered her courage and tiptoed forward. One step. Two steps. Three steps. She was midway into the fourth one when her foreleg unexpectedly hit an unseen object. There was a thud, then something cracked, as if giving way. She hold her breath. A loud clatter, a blaring clang, as of many metallic items falling down, mingled with the crystalline note of glass smashing on the floor, pealed all around the room…

⁂

Starswirl the Bearded had been working late on his new, powerful incantation, the one that was going to be the cusp of his researches. He had spent a lot of time slogging on it during the last weeks, but still could not get it right. The wording seemed to be fine, though: “A mark of one’s destiny, singled out, fulfilled.” That should have worked, he thought for the thousandth time. In fact, I can’t see a reason why…

But his musing was suddenly interrupted by a dampened noise, as of crashing and breaking, coming from the basement of his house. Darn it! he cursed, yet another blunder of this stupid cat I had the weakness to keep around. It’s high time he gets his comeuppance. He precipitately left his desk, egressed from his study and hurtled down the stairs. Infuriated, he flung the door of the laboratory open, and cast a light spell to illuminate the room. It was in shambles; the table on which he had delicately placed his sundry instruments had been toppled, everything was now lying on the floor as a clutter of disjointed metallic pieces and broken shards of glass. What a disaster! Three days of hard work lost because of that stupid felid. “REMDEL!” he cried. “Get out of your shelter and show yourself! This time you won’t escape your–” But he stopped short, because his ears had suddenly registered a faint whine, as of muffled sobs.

“Who’s here?” he brayed. No response. “Whoever you are, step into the light or I promise you will regret it!” But there was still no answer, except those feeble, but now unmistakable sobs, that seemed to origin from behind the knocked over table. Starswirl walked forward, rounded it and…

Crouching low on the floor lay a young, purple-coated unicorn filly; her head was hidden into her forelegs, and her body was shaking with uncontrollable spasms. She was looking weak, weak and miserable. “Who are you?” asked Starswirl harshly. “What are you doing in my lab–” Once again he interrupted himself, as he noticed the folded wings on the side of the filly. “But you are…” He inadvertently stammered. “You’re an alicorn? I’ve never seen you. Where are you from? Sweet Celestia, what does an alicorn at three am in my laboratory?”

The purple filly did not rise her head, neither did she answer. She simply blubbered on. “Come on,” said Starswirl in a now softer tone, seating himself next to the alicorn. “I’m sorry. I was angry, but I’m no more. I mean you no harm. None of this mess is important. Please stop crying. I’m just curious why you’re here. This can’t be a coincidence, there must be a reason. Won’t you tell me your name?”

Slowly, as if reluctantly, the young alicorn turned her gaze up and looked at him. She had big, expressive eyes with large violet irises, out of which tears were streaming freely. Starswirl saw she was desperately fighting to recover enough control over her body to answer him. “I… I am… so… sorry,” she eventually managed to utter after a while, between two hiccups. “I… I just… I don’t know anymore… I can’t remember!” she squealed, before relapsing into a loud sobbing fit.

Isochronia

The next morning, Starswirl woke up slightly earlier than usual. He made his way down to the kitchen, where he hastily picked up two apples and a prepared a thick oat porridge that he put on a tray, then climbed the stairs back up and stopped in front of the door of the library’s annex. Yesterday night, he had hastily teleported a makeshift cot in the small room with the necessary sheets and pillows, and had carefully tucked the young alicorn in; when her howling had finally subsided, she had abruptly fallen asleep, as if the emotional strain had snuffed their consciousness out.

He knocked at the door. “Come in!” responded a cheerful voice inside. Starswirl opened the door and froze.

Comfortably nestled in her bed, her invitée impromptue was reading a book, that she had probably borrowed from one of the nearby shelves; five or six big books had been hastily heaped by the bed side. She rolled slightly on her side in order to see the door frame. “Hi!” she said with the same merry voice and a large smile. Then she became aware of the strange expression on Starswirl’s face and slightly blushed. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I woke up with dawn, and since I didn’t want to disturb you, I decided to read a bit while waiting for your visit. I hope you won’t hold a grudge against me.” She grinned, and winked two or three times.

“Hmmpppfff!” grunted Starswirl, somewhat fazed by the alicorn total change of mood. “Of course not. Those books are here to be read, not to be reverently admired. Go ahead. I have prepared a tiny breakfast for you. I’m glad you feel better, but you obviously need some rest, so please take your time. If you’re still hungry, you can grab more food in the kitchen, down at the basement level, where I found you yesternight. If you’re looking for me, I’ll be in my study on the third floor. We shall lunch together if you want.”

“Fine!” answered the alicorn. “Thank you so much for caring for me. I think I’ll stay in bed a while longer, just reading. Have a great morning!”

“Hmmmpf!” groaned Starswirl again. “By the way, you still remember nothing?”

The smile on the alicorn’s face dissolved as she tried hard to dig into her brain. But she eventually shook her head: “No,” she replied in a sorry tone. “Still nothing. A big void, that’s what my mind is. Not even my name…”

“It doesn’t matter,” shrugged Starswirl. “That’ll come back in due time, I’m not afraid. See you at noon. Good reading!”

“Thanks!” chirped the alicorn. ”Oh, by the way,” she added, while Starswirl was walking through the threshold, ”what's your name?”

“Oops! Sorry!” apologized Starswirl, whirling to face her guest. “I’m Starswirl – ‘the bearded’ as they call me. But Starswirl is just fine.”

“Great name! I like it. See you!”

He shut the door behind him. Strange, he thought as he slowly walked away. With dawn, she said. That’s only two hours. Six books, amongst the most abstruse, in two hours? She must have skimmed through them or otherwise she’s gulling me. He sniggered, wiped these thoughts out of his mind, and focussed on his ongoing research.

⁂

He had been slogging for two more hours when a sudden loud musical note made him start. It was followed by more low pitched, almost throbbing sounds, echoing in a seemingly random way, that were shaking all his apparatus. Sweet Celestia, he sighed, that little brat has discovered the old organ. Did I ever permit her to go into that room? He left once more his study and bustled down the stairs, as the ongoing discordant melody threatened to whack his eardrums. He found the door of the chamber opened and stormed inside. “HEY!” he yelled as loud as he could. “How could you be so brazen as to–”

Immediately the booming blare died away, and the alicorn – it was indeed her at the keyboard – put one of her forehoof on her mouth. “Ooops!” she said, slightly embarrassed. “I caught a glimpse of that strange contraption when I was passing by from the kitchen, and thought I might give a try at it.” She grinned once again, as to apologize. “Errr… That wasn’t much of a success, was it? I still have some progress to make.”

“Definitely,” Starswirl mumbled. “Please would you refrain from using this… contraption, as you call it, until at least the morning is over? I would be very grateful!” he asked in a clearer, but harsh voice.

“Oh!” exclaimed the alicorn, still smiling broadly, “No problem. If you wish, I shall go back into my room and carry on reading. I’m so sorry to have caused you trouble. By the way–” She paused, and a small piece of cloth materialized above the keyboard. Magically, she rubbed the various keys with it. “Here!” she said, satisfied. “Now it’s as clean as I found it!” She giggled. “Or maybe even cleaner!”

Starswirl didn’t noticed she was poking fun at him. His eyes widened. “How did you do that?” he asked, unsettled. “I thought you had lost all memories of—”

“Oh! I do!” interrupted the alicorn. “But this is one of the spells I learnt from your own book ‘730 Handy Incantations for witty unicorns’ I read this morning in bed. At page 215. A cleaning hanky. That’s all! No mystery!”

“What?” croaked Starswirl, taken aback. “You mean you actually did peruse the whole book?”

“Of course!” protested the alicorn. “What did you expect? That I was just leafing through it?”

“Well…” admitted Starswirl, feeling, now in his turn, abashed.

“Pffff…” shrugged the alicorn. “I can tell you, that, for example, at page 23, there is a spell called ‘A vase full of imperishable flowers’. At page 457, ‘How to mute a rooster’. Or at page 198 ‘How to gild a lily (at least for a while)’. You see?”

Starswirl was now totally blown away. “You memorized… you memorized all… the spells?” he sputtered incredulously.

“You’re taunting me, aren’t you? That’s no fun. Why do you seem so gobsmacked?” Her horn glowed, and, in row, there appeared on the organ console a vase full of paper daffodils, a mat decorated with rhombic patterns, and a dozen red tapers, which she kindled one by one. “See?” said the alicorn, opening her bright eyes, with her large, now characteristic, grin.

I can’t believe it, Starswirl thought. It’s not possible. I must be dreaming… I will awaken… He tottered.

“Are you alright?” asked the alicorn, suddenly concerned. “You’re turning pale.”

“Nothing,” replied Starswirl shaking his head. “A sudden fit of fatigue. I haven’t slept much last night, you know…”

“Ooops. Of course you must be tuckered, and I’m here, holding you away from your bed and showing you tricks that you yourself wrote. I am just a feather-brain. Have some rest. We can lunch together when you feel better. Okay?”

“Very well,” acknowledged Starswirl. “You can go back in your room and read as many books as you like while I try to recover.”

“Perfect!” approved the alicorn, and Starswirl left the room.

Sweet Celestia! Sweet Celestia! Sweet Celestia! She’s amnesic… but exceptionally gifted. No, not exceptionally gifted. That’s an understatement. She’s… but WHO IS SHE?, he wondered, as he trundled along the way to his bedroom.

⁂

They had lunch together in the kitchen, but ate without uttering any word. Starswirl was almost dreamy and absent; he barely took any food, satisfying himself with a light nibbling. In front of him, the alicorn pigged on the apple pies and knocked down a couple of cider bottles. When both were slacked, and the lunch was over, Starswirl cast a spell and made all the leftovers and the earthenware disappear.

“No need to wash the dishes that way,” he said to the alicorn.

“Rather a handy way to deal with that chore!” she japed.

Starswirl smiled, and looked at the alicorn straight in the eyes. “Still no memories?” he asked.

The alicorn shook her head. “Nope,” she confirmed. “My past has been devoured by the flames of oblivion.”

“Elegantly put,” remarked Starswirl. “To speak candidly, if your past is a mystery to you, you are a mystery to me… You should come with me to visit Princess Celestia in her Canterlot’s summer castle. Maybe she could somehow revive that forgotten past using some enchantment unknown to me…”

“Princess Celestia?!” exclaimed the alicorn.

“Yes,” answered Starswirl surprised by his guest’s reaction. “Does that name evoke something to you?”

“No,” sighed the alicorn. “But a princess! You’re the friend of a princess?! You must be a noble yourself?” She gazed at him with eyes full of wonder and admiration.

Starswirl giggled. “Oh no, I am afraid not…” And frankly, that’s the last thing I would like to be. Every single day with those moronic, fawning hoity-toity snots. The fluff, the spangles, the ceremonials… Yuck! Yuck! Yuck! But you, my little freak out of nowhere, technically, the noble, it’s YOU. I’m sure Celestia could find a path out of this quagmire. If only she had not gone away on that mission for a month with strict orders of not disturbing her for whatever motive, leaving her sister in charge… Luna. Luna… I don’t trust her anymore. There’s something creepy about her these days… Like ominous clouds slowly gathering just beyond the horizon, waiting to muster and unleash a pandemoniac armageddon. No, definitely no, I won’t introduce you to Luna. Better keep you safely hidden until Celestia returns.

“What are you thinking of?” asked the alicorn.

“Nothing important,” answered Starswirl. “I was just realizing that Princess Celestia is currently away for a while. An important errand abroad. You’ll have to wait a smidgen to meet her. I’m sorry…”

“Oooh…” said the alicorn sadly. She seemed to mope slightly but finally rallied herself. “It doesn’t matter. I am not in a hurry; I suppose I can wait,” she finally declared, her grin returned. Then, after a slight pause: “Do every stallion have a beard?” she ventured shyly.

This time Starswirl guffawed. “I… I don’t think so,” he managed say after having recovered. “It’s a special trait of my family. As such, we are very proud of it.”

“Finally, you’re not such a curmudgeon!” the alicorn joked.

“Me? A curmudgeon?” Starswirl almost choked laughing once again. “Not at all. That’s the beard. Makes me look older and stern, I suppose…”

“But it suits you well. All well considered, I like it!” she stated, this time positively.

“Thanks!” thundered Starswirl with a smile. He rose. “Let's stop gabbing. Time to move on. I still have work to do, but you can enjoy the perfect weather in the garden, if you want. You will find there all sorts of flowers, plants and birds, and please use any of the deckchairs if you want to sunbath. Yet, if you get bored, let me show you something. Come with me!”

They egressed from the kitchen, climbed to the second floor, and Starswirl guided his visitor to an impressive iron door. He unlocked it, pushed it – the hinges grated somewhat – and when it was fully opened, he invited the alicorn to step inside.

“Oh my gosh!” she blurted, totally carried away. The door was leading to a large room, whose ceiling was towering so high above that the alicorn felt dizzy just looking at it; it was painted in cerulean, with regular pictures of the Sun and the Moon. The room was illuminated through large arched stained-glassed windows, shaped into various uncanny, but elegant, geometrical figures of unknown signification. Barring these wells of brightness, the rest of the walls was hidden behind what looked like a single library, made up of dozens of stacked shelves carved out of some reddish precious wood, most likely mahogany. Books were everywhere, umpteen of them, carefully stowed from the floor up to the lofty ceiling. It was like a tapestry, but a tapestry woven out of intertwined paper and leather.

“I can’t believe it…” her voice trailed off over her emotion.

“Welcome to my library,” said Starswirl proudly. “I think you’ll enjoy this place, and will find many things to keep you busy. There are sections on about every possible subject: history, geography, various sciences, magic, mythology, philosophy, literature… It almost rivals with the royal library of the two sister’s castle. Here,” he pointed at a small carrel, “you can read at ease. I’ll let the door unlocked so you can access anytime, even without asking me. I gather you know enough magic now to master the telekinesis of small objects, so you can pick up even the remotest books. Just handle them carefully, and put them back where you found them. I would hate to have to reshuffle the whole collection.”

“Of course I will…” answered the alicorn, still fascinated: she couldn’t turn her gaze away from these uncountable volumes. “How can you own so many books?” she asked. “That’s amazing…”

“Many of them I inherited from my ancestors,” explained Starswirl. “Each and every one in my family has always collected books… and some were writers, too.”

“Oh thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” squealed the alicorn. Unexpectedly she hopped and hug him. It was so abrupt and spontaneous that the unicorn couldn’t dodge it. “It’s nothing,” he said after a few seconds, slightly uneasy. “If it pleases you, then I’m glad too. I have to go and resume my work. Have a great afternoon! But do enjoy the Sun, don’t remain locked inside!” He broke free, smiled at the alicorn who requited his glee, waved with his foreleg and left.

⁂

He had worked three hours in a row, without even rising his head, when he became aware of a soft song reaching his ears. He dragged himself out of his cushion and shuffled to the window. Hunching over the sill, he caught a glimpse of the purple alicorn exploring the various flower beds, humming gaily. Usually, he would simply have dismissed the spectacle as inconsequential, closed the window and got back to his bench, but inexplicably this time he was charmed by the graceful postures of his guest, and his eyes tracked her eagerly as she traipsed around aimlessly. He lost focus for a moment. Suddenly, he surprised himself crooning in unison with the song. He stopped short, and at the same instant the alicorn looked up at him. Her large and cheerful eyes pierced through him and he felt like a foal caught red-handed reading a forbidden book. Somehow, his face must have been betraying his feelings, because the young alicorn cracked up, a rich and warm laughter that unsettled Starswirl even more.

“Sorry,” he finally shouted, “I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Please continue! I like your song.”

“Thanks!” said the alicorn with another bright smile. And she carried on her humming.

Starswirl remained at the window for a few seconds, then walked back to his chair. What a big oaf I am, he chided himself. Just plain stupid. Why did I feel so ashamed in front of this… filly I don’t even know. Admittedly, she’s pretty and cute, but… Oh, the heck with that. Back to work.

He plopped himself down on his hassocks, and tried to concentrate on the magic formula he was trying to get right, but which was resisting any of his attempt. The clear voice of the alicorn was still floating around, muffled, but audible nevertheless; it brought with it the keen memories of her grin, of her warm hug, of her sleek body slinking between the various patches of flowers. He tried to get rid of these troubling images, but found out he could not. Desperate, he growled some unknown curse, got up on all fours and left the room.

⁂

The dinner was dull. The alicorn had almost finished eating when Starswirl made an appearance; he hurriedly and silently munched a couple of apples and then went out right away. He was about to round the frame of the door when he turned back and grumbled: “Don’t look for me tomorrow. I will be off for a couple of days. I must complete a belated chore that can’t wait any longer. You have plenty of food here in the kitchen, and the library is yours, as well as the garden. I entrust my manor to you. Keep it in good shape till I return! Nobody will disturb you as I will create a impervious force field all around. Good night and good bye!”

“O… Okay!” responded the alicorn, baffled by this sudden declaration. “I’ll do my best! Have a safe journey!”

“Thanks, see you at my return!” echoed the voice of Starswirl who had not awaited to begin climbing the stairs up.

⁂

The next day was bleak and rainy. The alicorn got up early, but Starswirl was obviously already gone. She morosely breakfasted alone, then spent most of the morning in the library, reading encyclopædia on Equestria’s history. The ambiant light was so dim she had to recourse to several candles she conjured up in order to help her reading comfortably. At noon, slightly bored, she decided to shift gears and play once more the organ, but found it was no fun without Starswirl listening to and complaining about her musical experiments. She barely nibbled something for lunch, and stayed almost all the afternoon at the window watching the dark clouds scud by, hoping for a patch of blue sky to reappear. But there was no respite from the rain, on the contrary, it seemed to her at some point that what was up to now just a mizzle had turned into a deluge: the drops of water lashing down from above were so serried that it was simply impossible to make out anything beyond a few feet. The world outside had become murky and gray. Disheartened, she returned to the library and resumed somewhat reluctantly her reading, until a strange tiredness washed over her. She went to bed without eating, and wriggled for a long time in her sheets before sleep at last abducted her away into an agitated but dreamless slumber.

A shaft of bright light leaking through the unfastened shutters fell plumb on the face of the young alicorn and woke her up. She stirred and opened an eye. Through the chink, she beheld a corner of blue heaven and deduced immediately that a fair weather had come back. Prodded by this good piece of news, she stood up energetically and hurried up to the kitchen.

After a roborant breakfast, she cleaned up her face and rushed outside. The flowerbeds had been badly squashed by the torrential rain and the alicorn endeavored to restore their lost beauty. She devoted the next hours to patiently digging and draining the ground with various tools, transplanting bulbs and casting miscellaneous spells to give back some semblance of decency to the devastated garden. At noon, satisfied, she picked up some of the most beautiful flowers, gathered some fronds and assembled them into a large bouquet. As she clearly remembered having spotted a large empty vase in her ‘bedroom’, she stepped inside the house levitating the bouquet behind her, trotted gaily to her quarters and slipped the whole bunch of flowers into it. She poured some water out of a nearby jug and proudly installed the composition over a squat library. Walking backwards, she appraised her work and found it really neat.

At this point, her belly remembered her she was getting hungry.

On the way back from lunch, she selected some books in the main library, carried them outside and wallowed in the sunlight, indulging in the warmth of this radiant Summer’s afternoon.

⁂

It was about six o’clock when Starswirl showed up. Upon seeing him, the young alicorn chucked her book, jumped on her feet and rushed to him. “Starswirl! I am so glad you’re back. I missed you so much!” she said, dunking her nose into his mane and nuzzling him. The unicorn didn’t try to escape her cuddle, this time. When it was over, she retreated a few steps.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

In lieu of an answer, Starswirl levitated his pannier, opened the lids and drew out a small box that he delicately placed on the ground. Kneeling, he removed its top.

“Look,” he said, inviting the alicorn to take a gander.

Inside the box, three small white flowers were lying on a bed of a thin foamy substance, almost alike to woven gossamer. “Oooh!” exclaimed the alicorn, “Edelweisses!”

“Exactly!” answered Starswirl. “These are the very last ones that could be found. They usually bloom much sooner in the year, and I had to wander well over the timberline to find them. Had I not set out yesterday, these three ones would probably have wilted by now.”

“What do you intend to do with them?” asked the alicorn with a hint of a smile.

“That’s my secret!” responded Starswirl.

“Are you by chance trying to find the truth about your innermost feelings?” put the alicorn forward.

Starswirl made a step backwards and looked at her guest with wide incredulous eyes. “What… what makes you think that?” he half-sputtered in surprise.

“Look, Starswirl. Edelweisses are not a useful ingredient in magic, expect for one single potion, and that potion gives you insight into the hidden dens of your heart… That was an easy riddle!” She grinned anew, and winked impishly.

Oh gosh no, she must have read some book about potions while I was away… “No, no, you’re wrong!” Starswirl denied, blushing. “It only has to do with my current research.”

“If I have some progress to make in order to be a passable organist, you should learn how to lie correctly!” giggled the alicorn. “Whom are you hiding from? Are you sure you need this potion?”

“Now stop that gushy bosh!” growled Starswirl suddenly huffy. He closed the box, plonked it in his pannier and disappeared inside the entrance of the house.

Deadpan, the alicorn watch him go, returned where she was lying before his arrival, and resumed her reading, whistling softly.

⁂

The dinner was icy. Starswirl almost ignored his guest completely. He broke into the kitchen without a word, rummaged in the sideboard for earthenware, collected some food that he wolfed down noisily and uncouthly; when his plate was emptied, he chucked it carelessly into the sink, before snatching a bottle of cider that he belted down. Only then he seemed to realize that the alicorn was staring at him strangely.

“What’s the matter with you now?” he croaked aggressively. “Why do you look at me with such stupid eyes?”

“Oh! nothing…” answered the alicorn, “I was just wondering what you were trying to achieve. Disgust me? At times, you’re so stiff and ludicrous –––”

“I don’t give a hoot about what you think of me!” he cut in angrily. “You were right the other day: I am a grumpy, asocial and bland curmudgeon. Are you happy now? And stuff into your head that I don’t intend to change. Like it, or lump it.”

“And what do you think of me, by the way?” asked the alicorn thoughtfully.

“You want to know what I think of you?” he brayed. “I think you’re an obstreperous, boisterous flighty brat with astounding mental capacities! Period. And now, I am tuckered, so good evening and good night!” he concluded, stomping out of the kitchen and slamming the door shut.

The alicorn whistled in wonder, then burst into a fit of laughter.

⁂

The next morning, after breakfasting once again alone, the alicorn crept up to the third floor. The door of Starswirl’s bedroom was ajar; she peeked inside, but found it empty. Disappointed, she was about to regain her own bedroom when she heard muffled curses coming from the study. She walked to the door and knocked. “Come in!” groaned Starswirl from inside. She trod in and barely stifled another fit of laughter. Half-torn, half-crumpled sheets of paper were strewn all over the floor. Amidst this shambles, the unicorn was lying on a cushion, laboriously scrawling mathematical signs on a fresh sheet.

“Rats!” he exclaimed. He crossed all the writing out and threw his pencil away in exasperation.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” she said, “I had come to apologize for yesternight. I didn’t mean–––”

“Forget it!” interrupted Starswirl without looking at her. “It’s okay. If someone should apologize, it is I. I’ve behaved like a pig. I’m sorry too, and really I mean it. I hope you won’t hold me a grudge. I was just a silly idiot. But this… this… darn computation gets on my nerves.”

“What is it?” inquired the alicorn.

“Determination of the trajectory of the Glaney comet,” explained Starswirl. “Can’t get it right. The position I calculated is wrong: when I point the telescope using my purported coordinates, there’s just nothing but blackness. Yet, I can’t find out where I made a mistake. It just… drives me nuts.”

“Can I have a look?” proposed the alicorn.

Starswirl lurched and stared almost absentmindedly at her. “What do you know about celestial mechanics?” he asked.

“I’ve read the book you wrote about it yesterday,” she answered candidly.

Starswirl shrugged. “Go ahead,” he said. “If you can decipher my handwriting…” He handed a dozen carelessly creased sheets to the alicorn who unfolded them. She lay down, and began scrutinizing the formulae, while Starswirl was magically collecting all the straggled paper balls and throwing them into a wastebasket. She had been perusing Starswirl’s equations for three or four minutes when she tittered. “Come here!” she said.

“What is it?” asked Starswirl approaching.

“Look here. You’ve inadvertently dropped the minus sign here before your energy term. Therefore, your subsequent differential equation is wrong. The solution is not a parabola, that you get for a positive energy, but an ellipse, albeit with a very large major axis. No wonder you can’t find your comet, you’re missing it by several tens of thousands kilometers!” she joked.

Starswirl grasped the folio and examined it closely. He facehoofed. “What a clumsy nitwit I am!” he grumbled, shaking his head. “Thanks so much. Without your keen examination, I think I would have squandered away many more hours chasing a stupid mistake.”

“My pleasure, master!” she replied, bobbing a curtsy.

“Pff… Make fun of me…” He seemed to muse a few seconds, then resumed: “Now come. I have a serious offer for you. Would you like to work with me? I am sure as a tandem we could achieve some major breakthroughs.”

The eyes of the alicorn widened. “Really? Are you serious? Or just kidding me?”

“No, no!” protested Starswirl. “I am very serious. Your mental capacities and your thirst for knowledge are stupendous. I am positive that in a few months we could even work as peers.”

“Oh thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!…” squealed the alicorn, hopping all around Starswirl. When she stopped, she once more dipped her nose in his mane and nuzzled him tenderly.

⁂

Darkness had fallen, and the clammy, smothering heat of the day had finally subsided, giving way to a much welcomed coolness. Crickets and cicadas were gaily thrumming their minute fiddles, filling the Summer’s night with their unceasing stridulations. Atop the house, Starswirl had opened the roof of the observatory, and was adjusting the telescope when her now official apprentice joined him. The observatory was no large room. Round-shaped, its center was occupied by the bulky instrument, while a small pedestal table could be easily moved around to take notes or draw pictures from any position. On the walls, a few sconces were dispensing a meager light, that flickered and threatened to die with each draft.

“Did you find it?” asked the alicorn.

“Well, judge by yourself!” answered Starswirl with a grin.

The alicorn put her eye on the lens. “Ooooh!” she marveled. “Beautiful!”

“Isn’t that a wonderful spectacle?” commented Starswirl.

“Let me show you an even more wonderful spectacle,” proposed the alicorn, and she gently pushed Starswirl outside the room. They descended the stairs, and, once arrived at the threshold of the main entrance, the alicorn pointed at the sky and made a gesture that took in all the heavens. “Aren’t they just breathtaking when you look at them with your naked eye rather than through the lens of a clunky instrument?” she asked.

Starswirl gazed aloft, smiled, and finally: “You’re right,” he answered, ”but there is still a more marvelous spectacle I know of…”

“What is it?” inquired the alicorn suddenly curious.

Starswirl turned to face her. “Their shining and sparkling reflections in the gorgeous eyes of a young and foxy alicorn close to me.”

She did not reply, but took a step forward and bent her head to kiss him.

Prochronia

The following days were like paradise on Earth to Starswirl. The warm and tender love her young guest had swaddled around him, now that he had accepted it, was blossoming and filling up all his soul with elation. It was as if he had been given a shot of pure happiness, or had drunk a julep of exaltation. He could not believe how his former existence, in hindsight, looked vain and void, now that she, with her genius and her moony cheerfulness, had shaken up his life. He realized that he had – unconsciously – been deprived of something all these years, been deprived of her. With her at his side, he felt complete, unfettered.

She had changed his life, not suddenly, but piecemeal. They – for they now shared the same room and bed – would wake up early in the morning. After their breakfast, they would work until noon, while the Sun would still be gentle and the air of the study breathable. Sometimes they would just have lunch in the kitchen, but most of the time she would quickly pack up some food in a wicker hamper, and they would picnic somewhere in the surrounding wood, comfortably tucked under the cover of one of the many stately trees. Then they would banter for a while, and she would eagerly listen to the stories Starswirl would tell her, tales of a remote past, valiant deeds of unknown heroes, legends of foreign and strange countries. Then they would sometimes cuddle but always nap for a while, frittering away the hottest hours in the relative coolness of the shadowy forest.

By the end of afternoon they would resume their work until dinner – unless she would prefer to care for the garden, and return in the house with colorful bouquets but grubby hooves that would leave mud tracks on the floor and make Starswirl grouch. After dinner, they would usually lie in the garden to enjoy the scarlet hues of the sunset and the coming out of the first stars. Then they would either discuss the results of the day or, most frequently, go to bed and canoodle way into the night.

⁂

The Summer was slowly passing away. Days were getting shorter, and the heat wave had been routed by a violent sally of thunderstorms. One evening, Starswirl lingered in the garden, despite the alicorn’s coaxing to go to bed.

“You don’t want to remain here for a while longer, sweetie?” he asked her, surprised.

“Why?” asked the alicorn. “I’m so tired tonight. If you want your evening cuddles, it’s now or never.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember tonight is the night of the tears of Centaurus, one of the biggest shooting star swarm of the year. If you watch the sky with me and espy one, you might make a wish!” explained Starswirl.

“Why did you not warn me about that before, you silly featherbrain?” the alicorn teased, as she lay close to him.

“I thought you would know,” joked Starswirl. “You’re so brainy usually…”

She did not respond, and both began to scrutinize the night in search of these tiny and flittering streaks. “I’ve seen one!” squealed suddenly the alicorn.

“Have you made a wish?” asked Starswirl.

“Hmmm… Let me think. Yep! Done!” the alicorn replied.

“Another here!” shouted Starswirl.

“Your turn to wish something!” chirped the alicorn.

“Already done!” declared Starswirl.

“Huh? So quickly? What was it?”

“I can’t tell you, darling, or it would break the magic!”

“Oh please! Oh please! Oh please!” pled the alicorn.

“Okay, okay! I give up. But didn’t you guess? I wished… you stay with me for the rest of my life, honey.” And he smiled to her.

“Why do you wish for something so obvious?” replied the alicorn.

They nuzzled tenderly. Tiredness found them warmly snuggled and, this night, they slept under the stars.

⁂

She was roused from her sleep by light shakes. She opened an eye, and saw that the Sun was already high in the sky. “Come on!” trumpeted the voice of Starswirl behind her. “Time to wake up! I’ve just received word that Princess Celestia is back and expecting us at three o’clock this afternoon!” He seemed very excited.

“Princess Celestia herself?” asked the alicorn in bewilderment. “Squee! But… But I don’t have any cloth appropriate to meet a princess! And how will we journey to her castle?”

“Don’t talk nonsense!” replied Starswirl. “I’ll conjure up some nice finery for you, and we will teleport in Canterlot, so the journey will be instantaneous. Come, quick! We just have two hours to find you a suitable dress, lunch and get ourselves ready.”

But ‘finding a suitable dress’ proved to be a somewhat touchier task than Starswirl had imagined, as her significant other turned out to be picky. At first the color was wrong; then she didn’t like the cut: she found the dress looked like an apron; next, the motif he had imagined was tasteless. After almost an hour of unsuccessful trying on, Starswirl resigned. He scribbled the formula of the spell he had been using on a sheet and left the bedroom in a huff. Ten minutes later, the alicorn was triumphantly showing up in the kitchen clad in an ultramarine pleated dress studded with tiny star-shaped golden sequins, bordered with a vermilion lining, as a foil.

“How do you find me?” asked the alicorn, whirling to show herself under every possible view. “This dress reminds me of the sunsets we love so much.”

“Coruscant!” confirmed Starswirl. “I’m sure the princess will love this couture.”

They lunched in a hurry, after what the alicorn spent a full hour grooming her coat, her mane, dabbing some make up and applying some mascara until she was fully satisfied. “Twenty to three,” announced Starswirl. “Time to go!”

“I’m ready!” nodded the alicorn.

“Then let’s go!” proposed Starswirl. He murmured some words; his horn briefly lit up, and both vanished in a flash of white light.

⁂

They materialized on a great square in front of the castle entrance. The alicorn glanced around: the center of the square was occupied by what appeared to be an ancient obelisk with strange characters engraved in. All around, and along the various streets, large villas were loosely sprinkled over a grassy turf, nestled behind ornamental fences. The overall impression was one of a luxurious and posh quarter. On the other side of the place, hidden behind high stone walls, stood a magnificent castle whose mighty white walls were spattered with large leaf-shaped windows; out of this sumptuous building, like branches from a bole, rose several slender, elegant crenelated turrets surmounted by tapered, dark slate-tiled spires, atop which short masts bore bright colorful pennants that waved freely in the wind. It was nothing short of a jewel of architecture, ablaze under the sunlight of that afternoon. The alicorn looked at it jaw-droppingly.

“Come on!” said Starswirl. “We don’t have time to loiter here! We’re expected.” He cocked his head towards the entrance and both set out. As they arrived at the wrought iron portal, the two burly guards stepped aside and bobbed before them. They proceeded along a large paved driveway meandering amidst a lush and verdant sward, and soon found themselves at the foot of the monumental stairs leading to the main gate. Standing above them, a lonely figure, clad in a glossy white uniform bearing a large symbolized golden sun, watched them intensely as they climbed the flight. When they reached the last steps, the handsome earth pony retreated somewhat, his blue eyes tracking the alicorn in a hardly concealed wonder. After a few seconds, he slowly turned his gaze to Starswirl.

“Starswirl the bearded, of course. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. My name is Sunflame, I am her majesty’s usher in charge this afternoon. She will receive you in the throne room, where she invites you to wait patiently until she concludes her current meeting with the minister of foreign affairs. But I wasn’t notified you would be accompanied.” His eyes returned to the alicorn. He hesitated. “Although I gather than given the status of your… err… fiancée –––” He bowed low, then resumed: “I suppose that it would be disgraceful to debar her admittance.” He coughed. “Whom must I announce to her majesty?” he asked respectfully.

“It’s a surprise,” interjected Starswirl before the alicorn could answer. “Please refrain from informing the princess.”

“I understand and will comply to your command, Sir,” acknowledged Sunflame. “I was ordered to let you proceed unattended to the throne room. I gather you’re a personal friend of her royal highness. You may hereby go, Sir. Princess.” And he once again bowed, as Starswirl and the alicorn entered the reception hall.

“Why did he look at me in such awe?” whispered the alicorn as they walked along a large corridor. “And why did he call me princess?”

“No doubt he was overwhelmed by your beauty,” replied Starswirl. “And you do look like a princess. In fact, you’re my personal princess, darling!”

She pecked him, and both continued toward the throne room.

⁂

The two guards bobbed as they opened the lofty wooden double door, in which interwoven lunar and solar emblems were engraved, that led to the throne hall. The alicorn stepped in and gazed around in wonder. Wide stained-glass windows, depicting various high feats from Equestria’s myths and lore, were brightly sparkling in the afternoon light and illuminated the room in unreal hues; they were interspersed with large marmoreal plinths upon which stood monumental chryselephantine statues representing heroes of the three races. The alicorn recognized some legendary figures from the stories Starswirl had narrated her. At the far end, deposited on a round dais, a double high-seat, whose left was chiseled in white wood, while the right was made up of dark wood, was partially concealing a large flag unfurled over the back wall, flag on which two sketchy alicorns (Why do they look like me?), one white, bearing a solar cutie mark, and one ultramarine, bearing a crescent moon cutie mark, where chasing each other in an abstract ronde.

“This hall is breathtakingly awesome!” exclaimed the alicorn. “Plainly regal.”

“Indeed,” confirmed Starswirl. “And it’s also an architectural tour-de-force, as only the first quarter of the room, where we stand now, is built over firm ground. The rest is hovering over an enormous precipice, more than four hundred meters high. The throne is literally floating in the air. Protheus, the architect that designed the castle, said that –––”

He was interrupted by a loud blast of bugle, that resounded at length in the vastness of the hall, and was followed by what seemed a military salute and the crystalline laughter of a mare's voice.

“Here she comes!” whispered Starswirl. “Let’s make her a prank. Hide behind this statue, hurry!”

The alicorn rushed to the nearest plinth, rounded it and crouched behind. “Perfect!” said Starswirl. And he turned to face the doors, that swung fully open, revealing the familiar shape of Princess Celestia.

“Starswirl!” she exclaimed joyfully. “My dearest and most gifted magician.” She hugged him, then stepped backward a little. “Oh my!” she carried on, “But you look radiant! What did happen to you?”

“She happened to me, Princess,” answered Starswirl with a beam. “Darling?!”

Celestia turned her head away from him as the alicorn emerged from her hiding place. Her eyes widened in surprise, and the alicorn suddenly froze, transfixed, her gaze locked on the Princess.

⁂

As soon as she had caught a glimpse of Celestia, something had snapped in the alicorn’s mind, as if a lock long closed had suddenly broken under pressure, freeing a tidal wave of memories that sluiced into her (my name… is Twilight Sparkle!) consciousness. My parents… My brother… the exam at the school… the Princess… my cutie mark… Spike… Nightmare moon… Princess Luna… my friends… Ponyville… Starswirl’s last spell?… Alicorn… the Princess… the mission… go back in time for… oh no! Twenty-nine days and twelve hours. TWENTY-NINE DAYS AND TWELVE HOURS…

Starswirl’s smile had faded as he was looking alternately at the Princess and the alicorn, both petrified. Suddenly, the face of his partner revived. “For how long have I been here, Starswirl?!” she asked. Starswirl peered at her in incomprehension. “FOR HOW LONG!?” she screamed, panicked.

“What?” he answered, taken aback. “What’s the matter with you? Why do you–––”

“FOR HOW LONG, FOR EQUESTRIA’S SAKE!” she repeated, cutting him.

Completely fazed, Starswirl tried to remember. He hummed for a few seconds, then finally answered: “I think twenty-nine days. But why is it so important? Why do you yell at me so?”

Oh no! Oh no! OH NO! ‘Sweet Celestia, what does an alicorn at three am in my laboratory?’ Three am. Three o’clock this afternoon. Twenty-nine days… ‘Your return will be automatic: at the precise end of this period, not one second later, the spell will spontaneously work backward and carry you back in our present.’ No… NOOOOO!

“What time is it? PLEASE, O PLEASE, WHAT TIME IS IT?” she screamed again.

Starswirl’s miserably turned his eyes toward the Princess. “Two… Two to three,” stuttered Celestia.

“NOOOOOO!” wailed the alicorn. She crumpled to the floor and started sobbing. Starswirl rushed to her, and twined one foreleg around his mane. “What is it darling? I don’t understand. Why all these questions? Why do you cry?”

Twilight Sparkle opened her watery eyes, gazed desperately at Starswirl, pushed his foreleg aside and rose painfully on all fours. She pointed one hoof at the Princess. “You lied to me,” she blubbered. “YOU LIED TO ME! From the start, it was just a pretense. The gaseous form, the diplomatic mission, the absence of witnesses, everything. You knew it, you knew everything. This was just a devious ploy to lure me here. But why? WHY? AND WHY ME?” She paused, sniffled, then: “I hate you!” she declared in a now icy tone, full of hatred. “I hate you! And may you be cursed forever for what you’ve done to me.” Her voice broke.

Starswirl’s face was haggard. “Princess, I’m totally lost. Do you know each other?” he begged.

Celestia also looked dumbfounded. She shook her head in denial. “Starswirl, I swear by Equestria I never met this alicorn, nor do I know why she has it in for me,” she answered.

“She is right,” sighed Twilight. “She has never met me. Not yet.” She swallowed and whirled to face Starswirl. “Starswirl,” she said, “my name is Twilight Sparkle. I was sent from the future by this…” – she showed Celestia – “this wicked creature to inquire on… on… never mind. Now the spell is over and in a few seconds I’ll be carried back through time to my own epoch. And there’s nothing anypony can do to prevent it… But I love you, Starswirl… I do not want to part from you…” She started sobbing again.

“Retrochonia…” whispered Celestia as in a dream.

Starswirl’s eyes went from one alicorn to the other. “What? You’re not parting from me,” he finally said to Twilight. “I won’t permit it. No magic, however potent, will ever snatch you away from me. We are one, forever…” He came close to hold her, but exclaimed a “Oh?!” of dismay and retreated. His forelegs had passed through the body of Twilight as if she was just a ghostly image.

Twilight’s sight was becoming blurry. Oh no, the spell… it is already dragging me away. With difficulty, she squinted and saw that Starswirl was watching her, aghast. He briefly glanced at Celestia, speechless, as if hesitating for an instant, then unexpectedly bolted towards the far end of the room. The Princess yelled something she could not distinctly hear. Starswirl’s former words came back to her mind: Only the first quarter of the room, where we stand now, is built over firm ground. The rest is hovering over an enormous precipice, more than four hundred meters high. Sudden realization dawned on her. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” she desperately squawked, as the fuzzy shape of Starswirl jumped through the last window of the hall, that broke asunder with a loud tinkle.

Then the darkness fell.

Epichronia

Winter’s night was cold and starless. The wind had become a gale, and in the sky dark and ominous clouds were scudding by, shrouding the light of the full moon and casting on the ground grotesque and hurried shadows that added to the knobbly shapes of the barren trees. From time to time, showers of icy sleet pelted down, making the ground wet and slippery.

Two cowled alicorns alighted silently in front of the graveyard entrance. They looked at each other, nodded, and each one threw her hood back, disclosing the heads of Celestia and Luna. Then Celestia gently pulled the iron gate, that slightly grated, and both trod in. They walked slowly along a large alley, the soaked earth squishing under their hooves, then turned right into a smaller path. They had progressed about fifty meters when they stopped. A few yards ahead, in the middle of the path, a dark and indistinct shape was squatting in front of a massive marble tomb. Celestia made some further steps forward. “Twilight?” she called mellowly.

“Shove off!” bleated the voice of Twilight. “I don’t want to speak with anypony, especially not with you.”

“Twilight,” pleaded Celestia. “Listen to me. I have come to beg forgiveness. Will you ever pardon me?”

There was a hush. “Why?” asked Twilight feebly. “Why did you this to me? I need to know. I loved him with all my heart, and now what’s left from him? A cenotaph. Void. Pain. Sorrow. An unbearable sorrow…”

“Twilight,” sighed Celestia, “I’m afraid there is no satisfactory answer to your question. The best I can say is that I sent you back in time because I had to. Because it had already happened, Twilight, more than a millennium ago. Unwillingly, you’re already part of Equestria’s history, and history cannot be changed.” She took a deep breath. “We alicorns like to think of ourselves as the most powerful beings in Equestria, and in a sense, that’s true. But there are things that transcend even our immortal lives, such as fate and time.” Even he above, in his cozy lair on the rim of the world cannot change that, she thought privately. “Time is a river that flows unceasingly from past to future, carrying all things away in its waters, and there is no stopping or reversing it. The best we can do, as alicorns, is to swim to keep us afloat, and behold new beings appear upstream, briefly stay abreast with us, and then disappear forever downstream. Even we, with all our might and magic, have to abide by time‘s rule, and it is a cruel and ruthless tyrant. However gruesome and heartbreaking for me, I had no choice but to do it and face the fallout. It was not the cause, Twilight. It was the consequence. The logical consequence of this fateful day so long ago.”

“It is no solace,” replied Twilight. “You speak of it so rationally. You never loved anypony as I loved him. You cannot understand what I feel…”

“It’s not true,” protested Celestia, “I swear it is not true. What do you know of my life? I admit I resolved well before you were born to stop getting involved in pointless relationships that were sources of brief happiness and everlasting mourning. But centuries ago I did love some ponies as much as you loved Starswirl. My heart is not made of stone, Twilight, I’ve been through the same ordeal, again and again, until one day I was left so downbeat I decided it would be the last time. And now you know, too, what I meant when I said, before you departed, that our eternal life was blessed and cursed at the same time…”

“Had you warned me it was so excruciating, I would not have accepted it,” Twilight said.

“But you did and there is no reneging.” She paused for a short while, then resumed: “You know Twilight, things weren’t easy for me, neither. I lost a dear friend, and every hour since that awful day I have been feeling the weight of your curse. I had to live with the horrible idea that I somehow caused his death, even though I had done nothing. I had to abandon the Canterlot castle because I could not stand the sight of the window through which he jumped anymore. Luna accused me of ruining the life of those I cared for, and when she finally transformed into Nightmare Moon and I had to banish her, I couldn’t help but thinking it was partly for this. In our epic battle, the castle of the two sisters was destroyed, so I had to move back to Canterlot and make it my everyday residence, and that was a double whammy. Then there was you, Twilight. I knew you would be born and you would accomplish great deeds – how could you have been an alicorn otherwise? – but when exactly, I had no clue, since you hadn't specify it. So I decided to create the Royal school for gifted unicorns, guessing that you would surely apply. Every time I visited it, I patiently scrutinized the applications forms, looking for a Twilight Sparkle, until the day I found the letter your parents sent. The rest you know as best as I do…”

There was another hush. Gushes of wind were blustering against the bare branches of the trees, which were keening sinisterly amidst the desert graves. “I am fatigued, and don’t want to speak about it anymore tonight,” declared Twilight at last. “Good night!” She stood up, and disappeared in a dazzling flash.

Celestia turned around, joined with Luna and both made their way back towards the main alley. “It will take time,” said Celestia, “but eventually I’m positive she will overcome her grief. There is too much joy and optimism in her.”

Luna nodded. “She will have to, any maybe sooner that even you expect it.”

“Why do you say that?” replied Celestia suddenly intrigued.

“You didn’t notice?” asked Luna to her sister.

“Notice what?”

“Well… I don’t know… Maybe it’s the millenium I spent on the Moon that has rendered me more sensitive than anypony else, including you, my sister. Now, when I am sufficiently close to somepony, I can somehow perceive their physiologic state. It’s not a spell, it’s automatic, like an additional empathic sense. I can easily tell ponies in good health from sick ones, and even guess the seriousness of their illness…”

Celestia halted and looked worriedly at her sister. “What do you mean? Twilight is sick?”

“No, no. At least, not in a conventional sense,” answered Luna.

“Then what is it?” asked Celestia impatiently.

Luna didn’t answer; instead, she resumed walking. After four steps ahead, she stopped, turned to face her sister that had not moved and was watching her go. “She is… pregnant,” she confessed, as she unfolded her wings and got ready to fly off.