From forever, with love

“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.