The Timestone

Chapters

I. The First Visit
II. The Second Visit
IV. The Fourth Visit
V. The Last Visit
III. The Third Visit

I. The First Visit

***

Star Swirl always thought it was one of the universe’s oddest coincidences that tearing a hole into spacetime sounded exactly like a silk robe ripping along its seams. Technically speaking, there was actually no sound since no air particles actually moved. It was the spaces between them that undulated obscenely as distance itself rippled away from the silvery gash in the air next to Star Swirl.

The old wizard's lip curled downward at the sight.

“What in Father Time’s great stinking beard are you doing here already?” he asked as Celestia stepped into his plane. “It’s only been two days for me. How long has it been outside?”

Celestia took just a moment too long to reply, and her eyes were wide as she took in the sight of Star Swirl within a space identical to his laboratory in the outside world.

Star Swirl jabbed a hoof in front of Celestia’s eyes and waved it insistently. “Focus, Tia!”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, blinking. “It’s just that I haven’t seen the lab like this in a year.”

Star Swirl sputtered at her words.

“A year?” he managed, to wring the words from his disbelieving mouth. “A singular, solitary year?”

“No, no, no!” said Celestia, as she shook her head. The girl spoke with an uncharacteristically muddled voice . “It’s been two years. I simply wouldn’t let them clean the lab for the first one.”

“Two years?!” Star Swirl struggled to convey the sheer magnitude of his shock with mere words. His forehooves flew up into his now-mangled mane. “You’ve spent one of the stone’s five charges two years after I departed? Will you spend the next one and the next so flippantly? Will I be used up in ten years’ time?”

A spark of familiar fire flashed in Celestia’s eyes. “Oh, stow it, you miserable old sod!” she snapped. “I used the stone because it is important—of course I wouldn’t waste it!”

“Important you say?” He wagged his hoof in front of Celestia’s face again. “Unicornia had damned well be at war with Pegasopolis, girl!”

“It’s practically at war with us,” she retorted. The young alicorn took deep breaths to calm herself. “After you…”—she paused, ever so slightly—“left us, the nobility has only gotten worse. Princess Silversong in particular makes it a point to oppose me and Luna every time the tribal leaders convene.”

“Celestia, Celestia,” Star Swirl muttered as he firmly applied a hoof to his temple. “Did I not tell you to expect this?”

“You told me to expect her to act like her mother,” said Celestia. “Platinum was never so bullheaded.”

“She was when she was Silversong’s age, before experience humbled her.” Star Swirl groaned with frustration. “Have you not learned a thing under my tutelage?”

“I learned plenty,” Celestia growled.

“Clearly not enough if you came crying back to me so soon,” Star Swirl huffed. “My continued existence is in your hooves, and you have squandered our first visit away on a—”

Celestia interrupted him with a cry of frustration and a stomp.

“You imposible old fool,” she said, “I used the stone because I was worried sick.”

“A little political posturing upsets you?” Star Swirl asked. “If that’s the case, we can kiss away any hope of establishing a unified governing—”

“I was worried about you, you stubborn mule!”

Star Swirl blinked and then shut his still-open mouth.

It wasn’t very often that something would catch him completely off-guard. Rarer still were the moments that made him feel downright silly. But Star Swirl was nothing if not adaptable, so he attempted to take it in stride.

“Oh,” he said. He worked his mouth a couple of times, soundlessly before insightfully adding, “Oh I see, now.”

“Two years I spent, unsure if the spell had even worked,” Celestia said. “I’ve pulled out clumps of my mane wondering if I would never hear your voice again. And now, the best you can give me is an ‘Oh, I see’?”

“Well, um, I didn’t… or I couldn’t… ” Star Swirl trailed off, entirely unsure if there was a way to end that sentence without making things even worse.

He mumbled for a few seconds longer before a big, toothy smile stretched across Celestia’s face, and she laughed. It was a light and airy and beautiful sound that made somehow made Star Swirl feel even more embarrassed.

“All this time,” she said when she could speak again, “and I should not have been worried at all. It really is you, isn’t it?”

“Well, I suppose I’d have to be me,” he harrumphed. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be dealing with you so pleasantly.”

“Oh, you old grump,” said Celestia as the last of her giggles left her.

Before Star Swirl could react, the alicorn closed the distance between them with a few steps and swept up the little old wizard into a full-winged hug.

“I’ve missed you,” she said.

“You’re too sentimental for your own good, girl,” said Star Swirl. After he deemed that an appropriate amount of time had passed, he wiggled himself free. “We ought to get back to the issue at hand.”

“Yes,” said Celestia, nodding. “I’d appreciate your thoughts on handling Silversong.”

“I think it’s rather straightforward.” Star Swirl shrugged. “Truthfully, I suspect she has no idea what she’s doing; the newly crowned rarely do. For now, I think it’d be wise to avoid any sort of compromise with her. You’ll only make her think that she owns you. The same thing used to happen between Platinum and Clover.”

“If I am not to compromise, how am I supposed to have anything done?” Celestia sighed. “As the leader of a Tribe, she still holds a lot more say than I do. Luna and I may hold seats at the Council, but we do not govern nations.”

“That’s what we’re trying to change, now, aren’t we?” said Star Swirl. “But the solution is apparent. Simply let her make her mistakes.”

Celestia frowned at this advice, to which Star Swirl rolled his eyes. How in-character of her.

“So long as she doesn’t run the Equestria to famine or to war,” he said, cutting off the thought that he knew was forming in Celestia’s mind, “it will be worth it. If she is anything like her mother, being humbled will make a quick learner out of her. You’ll win her over by being right.”

It took her a few more seconds of thought, but Celestia eventually nodded and said, “I think we can do that.”

“Good,” said Star Swirl, “Because it’s about time you went back. If it’s been two years for you already, then the time dilation in this pocket is much more pronounced than we expected.”

“Okay,” said Celestia. She fidgeted with her hooves. “Do you need anything? From outside? I can bring it next time.”

“No, Tia, you need not worry about me.”

“But are you sure?” she asked.

Star Swirl rolled his eyes. Without a modicum of effort, he willed a telescope on a tripod into existence next to him. It appeared with neither the sound nor light of magic.

Celestia almost fell over in surprise.

“Celestia,” he said, “I am sitting in a pocket reality composed purely of dream aether. Every particle of this dimension begs to be given form. Anything I could possibly need, I could create in a moment.”

“But... Why a telescope?” asked Celestia as she studied the device. She reached out with a hoof and felt its solidness. “There’s nothing to look at here.”

“It’s the last thing from my lab that I hadn’t recreated yet.” He peered out the window at the formless darkness outside. “I’ll probably get rid of it to save space, soon.” He turned back to Celestia. “But you, need to stop tarrying and leave already.”

“Yes, yes I do.” Celestia walked to the breach, and its shimmering light danced across her features as she neared it. “See you soon?” she asked.

“Not too soon,” Star Swirl huffed.

With a flash of light and a great ripping sound, the alicorn and the tear both disappeared.

***

II. The Second Visit

***

“Two weeks and a half weeks this time.” Star Swirl hummed to himself in thought. “That’s a little better.”

“Hello, old friend.” Celestia smiled as she left the portal’s fluorescent wake. From behind her, she produce a paper-wrapped parcel. “I’ve spent some time thinking about it, and I finally realized that there is something that you can’t wish into existence here.”

The bundle floated to Star Swirl’s side, and he picked it up in his own magic. It was heavy for its size.

He lifted an eyebrow, but on the inside he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of excitement. “What is it?”

“If you want to know,” said Celestia as she took a seat on one of the cushions on the floor, “then you really ought to open it, don’t you think?”

Star Swirl blew a raspberry at Celestia’s mischievous grin. “The years are making you quite the jester, it seems.”

“Perhaps,” said Celestia with an chiming giggle. “Or perhaps I’ve finally learned to recognize an old joke when I see one.” She made eye contact with the old unicorn.

Star Swirl huffed and puffed, but he opened the package anyway. Underneath the crinkly brown paper were…

“Books,” he said, eyes scanning the first of the tomes. Despite himself, a barking chuckle managed to come up from his scratchy throat. “You are a clever one, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Celestia nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I do believe I am.”

Star Swirl browsed the selection, glancing at authors and titles. “Cottonmouth’s Complete Compendium of Potions and Poisons. I’m glad that boy finally managed to apply himself…”

“Mhmm. He has his own shop and everything now. His niece helps him run it,” said Celestia.

“The one who used to catch toads?”

“The very same,” she said.

The name on the next book made Star Swirl’s lips curl downwards. “Eugh,” he moaned, “You brought me one of Pearl Drop’s?”

“I thought you’d like to see how your competition was doing.”

“Competition? Hardly!” Star Swirl harrumphed disdainfully. “She is a scam of a wizard, and that’s a fact. Her theories are naught but poppycock and nonsense that only occasionally align with reality.”

“But you’re still going to read it.” Celestia smiled knowingly.

“Only to fill the margins with notes that prove how ridiculous her notions of “leylines” and “thaumic ebb” are,” said Star Swirl. “It will not be difficult.”

Without further wasted time, he flipped over to the next book.

“On the Mathematics of the Motions of the Heavenly Bodies.” he read, “written by Clover called Clever.” The wizard let out another throaty laugh. “She’s still at it, then, is she?”

“At it and kicking,” said Celestia. “Literally. No doctor can keep her in bed. Silversong has the castle’s strongest orderlies watching her night and day, and she still manages to wriggle free every now and then.”

“That’s my girl,” said Star Swirl proudly. He set Clover’s book aside and took a look at the last one. Its cover was dark and hardbound, and the only marking on it was a picture of his cutie mark. Curiosity and confusion were measured in equal portions when he opened up its pages. “This one’s blank.”

“It’s meant for you to fill,” she said. “I knew you still wanted to continue your research here, so I thought you’d like to record your work on something that won’t melt into dreamstuff if it were to leave this place.”

Thoughtfully, Star Swirl looked over the gift. “Celestia, you truly are a clever one.”

Celestia rolled her eyes. “You’re welcome, Star Swirl. And may I mention that you have a very odd way of saying ‘thank you’?”

“Psh, it’s the best you can do when you get to my age.” Star Swirl. “Especially since you didn’t think to bring ink.”

“Mark the pages with magic or heat,” said Celestia. “They were made to be sensitive to spellwork.”

Star Swirl paused for a moment. “That’s very thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

Celestia beamed. “You’re welcome!”

“Bah,” said Star Swirl, waving a hoof in the air as if to clear it of the excessively sentimental feelings that had suddenly arose. “Gifts aside, what brings you here?”

Celestia frowned playfully. “You know, after what happened last time, I deliberately scheduled enough time so this meeting wouldn’t be all business.”

“What happened last time?” Star Swirl asked cautiously.

“We might have caused just a bit of a diplomatic incident.” Celestia smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t think I’d be gone for so long, but with how quickly time flows here, I was absent for almost week in Equestria.”

Star Swirl did some quick mental calculations. “Yes, a week. Sounds consistent.”

“Consistent it may be, but Luna had trouble with the sun. She managed to lift it only twice herself during the time. The Circle of Mages had to be reassembled for the other days.”

“What of now, then?” asked Star Swirl. “Did you inform the Circle ahead of time of your absence?”

“Now?” Celestia looked confused for a moment, but then her smile returned. “Silly Star Swirl, now Luna is older than I was at our last meeting. She easily handles both sun and moon.”

“Oh,” said Star Swirl, blinking. He studied Celestia’s smiling face, which did not seem a day older. “It’s just that you…”

“Look good for my age?” she asked, giggling. “It would seem that you were right about the whole ‘agelessness’ affair.”

“Good,” said Star Swirl, nodding. “When you and Luna are at Equestria’s helm, it will greatly benefit long-term stability.”

With a moan of annoyance, Celestia said, “It’s all business with you, isn’t it?”

“If you don’t want to spend an entire month away from home, then you’d better thinking about business pretty soon, girl.” Star Swirl tsked his tongue.

“As you wish,” said Celestia. She straightened herself on the floor cushion. “We seek your advice today because things have, well, stagnated in the recent years. Our advice is heeded in the Council, but outside of the Sun and the Moon, Luna and I still command no real authority. And I believe that though they may respect our input, the nobles of the tribes are still loath to delegate us any real power. I suspect they would be willing to let this arrangement continue indefinitely.”

“Stubborn mules, the lot of them.” Star Swirl kicked at a dust mote idly.

Celestia raised an eyebrow at the action.

“There is dust here?” she asked.

“I made it,” said Star Swirl. “It feels more like home.” He left it at that and turned his attention back to Celestia’s problem. As he hummed to himself, the beginnings of an idea began to form.

“Tell me,” he said after a little while, “have you heard the phrase, et armentis?”

“Pegasopolian,” replied Celestia, nodding. “It means, ‘for the herd.’”

“Yes, yes,” said Star Swirl. “A trite saying, overused by politicians and generals alike. But like all hackneyed phrases, I think this one holds a kernel of truth. I think you will need to earn the recognition of the armentis in order to make headway.”

A drape of skepticism fell across Celestia’s face.

“How would being popular help me rule and unify three nations?” she asked slowly.

“It will go a long way, methinks,” Star Swirl said. “Nobility requires vassalage for its very existence, and I think that in their heart of hearts, every blueblood knows this.”

He cleared his throat before continuing.

“Were you to win over the hearts of the herds, it would unsettle their rulers,” he said. “They would likely become far more cooperative with you to try to keep their peoples’ opinions of them from souring. And if they don’t…” Star Swirl shrugged. “Rebellion is not pretty, but it is certainly effective.”

Celestia frowned and her brow pinched angrily. “I will not incite a revolution. That would be barbaric.”

“If your political opponents have even the slightest instinct of self-preservation, then there will be no revolution. So long as you stay ahead of any plots to remove you from the game, having the sustained support of the masses gives them only one intelligent option.”

“I see.” Celestia sat back, thinking. “Have you any suggestions for procuring this support from the masses?”

“Oh Celestia,” Star Swirl sighed. “How can somepony as smart as you be so uncreative? You are a beautiful and ageless alicorn that commands the very sun itself. If you cannot come up with a way to make yourself seem likeable, then you are truly lost.”

The white mare tapped a hoof against her chin in thought. Then she smiled and clopped her hoof on the ground.

“A holiday!” she declared. “I’ll make it a festival out of raising the sun.”

“Don’t be gaudy,” said Star Swirl, turning up his nose.

“But I’m serious,” she said. “Ponies love big, flashy events that seem important, and they love it even more when they have an excuse to eat and drink.”

Sighing, Star Swirl ran a hoof through his mane. “Well, if that’s what you want to try, I won’t stop you. I’ll only remind you that one of the obvious conveniences of being ageless is the endless ability to try again after your first attempts fail.”

“You just watch, you old sod,” she said. “I’ll bet half my future kingdom that this idea takes off.”

Star Swirl only rolled his eyes in response.

***

IV. The Fourth Visit

***

The sound of fabric rending woke Star Swirl in a moment. When he saw the shimmering gash in the air before him, he bound to his feet. A lit lamp materialized in the air beside him with a thought, and he caught it with his magic.

“Celestia?” he called out.

A moment later, a dimly lit figure stumbled out of the portal. She tried to regain her footing, but slipped on a loose ream of paper and fell headlong onto the floor. With a bleary, painted moan Celestia did not try to get back up.

“Celestia!”

His heart racing madly in his chest, Star Swirl swept his light over her form, looking for any injury. He was about to flip her over and check her other side when he finally became aware of the stench.

Alchohol. Enough to make him want to cough.

“Celestia,” he said, tapping her sweat-drenched face with his hoof. “Celestia, by the Eight Glowing Hells, sit up! What in the maker’s name is going on?”

The great white alicorn stirred, shambling like a corpse into a seated position, flat on her rump. She turned sick, tired eyes towards Star Swirl, and they strained to focus on him.

“I’ve messed up,” she said in a small voice. “I really messed up, Star Swirl.”

Star Swirl conjured an icy-cold wet rag and pressed it against Celestia’s forehead, beneath her horn. Celestia took it in a hoof and wiped away the stale perspiration that had caked into the fur of her face. It seemed to help, marginally.

“Tell me what’s wrong, girl,” said Star Swirl as he sat beside her.

After a long moment, Celestia finally opened her mouth to speak.

“Luna’s gone, Star Swirl.”

A pang of icy panic pieced Star Swirl from his throat down to his heart. He tried to ask one of the thousand questions blowing around in his head like leaves in a storm, but he couldn’t coax his clumsy lips to form words.

“I banished her,” said Celestia before Star Swirl could compose himself. “I had to. She… she wasn’t herself.”

She’s alive. A measure of relief washed over him, even as more questions burned like hot coals in his mind.

“What happened, Celestia?”

At that simple question, Celestia’s breathing hitched. She sniffed and hiccoughed and panted brokenly for air before she finally spoke.

“It was my stupid arrogance,” she said. “I didn’t see. I was so caught up in making everypony like me. I thought I was just following what you told me. I couldn’t see how much it was hurting Luna. I couldn’t see it.”

“What did she do?” asked Star Swirl, his heart plunging hopelessly down like a sinking boat already.

“She let a Nightmare become her reality,” Celestia whispered. “I could barely recognize her. She refused to lower the moon for the sun. And I… I had the use the Elements on her. On my Luna. They sent her away.”

Star Swirl’s mind raced. “The Elements never do anything irrevocable. They exist to heal and mend; they would never preserve a wrong for eternity. Her banishment will not be forever.”

“I know,” said Celestia. “They told me. All this time we’ve used them, and I didn’t realize they could speak.”

“What did they say?” asked Star Swirl, when he pulled his thoughts together.

“They said that she’ll be gone for a thousand years. Until somepony who will save her can be born.” Celestia rubbed wetness out of her eyes before it could become tears. “They have written her destiny, and it is a thousand years of exile. And even then, I will not be the one to save her.”

Star Swirl took a deep breath.

“I see”, he said. “This was most unfortunate, but it is not insurmountably so.”

A glint of steel appeared in Celestia’s eye as Star Swirl spoke.

“If the elements have already prepared a path for Luna’s return, then we needn’t worry,” said Star Swirl. “After all, ageless as you are, a mere millennium would be nothing compared—”

“Fie to that!” Celestia snarled. “Fie to that, and to you. What do you know of being ageless? What do you know of the centuries? My heart has beat in my chest for four hundred years and twenty more, and I say it is enough!

“Have you no remorse?” Celestia’s voice began to crack as she continued. “It was our plans and schemes that led to Luna’s suffering. Our misguided machinations that have sentenced her to a thousands years more than she deserved. I, for one, will not stand to wait a thousand rutting years for destiny to fix this mess!”

Celestia’s body shook and shivered uncontrollably, like an animal lost and alone in a blizzard. Her breath came through clenched teeth, and her eyes, though tearless, had pain written into them.

Star Swirl reached out with a hoof and put it around her shoulder. When she realized what he was doing, the effect was immediate. The pained tension drained out of her bones, and she slumped into his embrace like a stringless puppet.

“If you did not come for my advice,” asked Star Swirl, as he held her, “then what do you plan to do?”

“I… I’m staying here,” said Celestia. “I’m staying here for the next nine hundred and fifty-three days. By then, a thousand years will have passed, and Luna’s savior will have restored her.”

“Celestia,” said Star Swirl, shaking his head. “You know you can’t do that.”

“I want to,” she said, burying her face in her wings. “I want to, and it will not make a difference anyway. Like you said, the Elements have already made her path.”

“And what of the path of the ponies you’ve left behind?” asked Star Swirl. “Have the Elements told you that each of their futures are also preserved? Is their safety and happiness also secured into destiny?

“We have spent the last four hundred years reforming and replacing their government,” he said. “We did it in the name of Harmony, and we cannot abandon them now.”

“I don’t care,” said Celestia. “I don’t care about them one bit.”

“You’re a liar, Celestia,” Star Swirl said with no doubt in his voice. “You’re a liar, and you’ve already wasted far too much time here. Your little ponies have already gone days without guidance; with neither you nor Luna to watch over them. Will you let them stay like this for weeks more? For months and years longer?”

Celestia took the wet rag in her hoof and screamed into it. The flimsy fabric did little to muffle the sound, which made Star Swirl’s ears ring and his heart jump.

“I’m sorry,” she said, when she had cried away her defiance. “I’m sorry for coming here. I’m sorry for wasting one of the stone’s charges on this.”

“Nay,” said Star Swirl. “This is exactly why I made it.”

He stood up and offered Celestia a hoof. Celestia took it, and with great effort from them both, they managed to get her back on her feet. Though her legs shook, her face was firm and determined.

When she made her way back towards the portal, Star Swirl paused for a moment, and then grabbed something with his hornglow.

“Here, take this,” he said.

Celestia took hold of a dark-covered spellbook. The very same that she had given him more than three hundred years prior. She flipped it open and found that all of the pages, which had once been blank, were now filled to the margins with notes and incantations.

“Maybe you’ll find something in there that can help. It will do you more good out there than it will to me in here.”

Celestia idly pawed through the pages a moment longer before she took it and clutched it to her chest.

“I’ll come back when this is all over,” she promised. “I won’t forget you in these next thousand years. I’ll let you know when all is well again.”

“Aye,” said Star Swirl as Celestia stumbled into the spacetear. “I’ll be here, waiting.”

***

V. The Last Visit

***

Star Swirl didn’t bother to turn around when the sound of an opening portal filled his workspace once again. He just smiled as he inked another diagram of a spellcircle into his notes.

“Took you long enough, Celestia,” he said as he heard steps behind him.

“H-hello?” asked an unfamiliar, accented voice. “Mister Star Swirl?”

Star Swirl’s ears perked up at the intruder’s voice, and in an instant he prepared himself for the worst. He spun around, horn at the ready, only to find his jaw wide open at the sight before him.

A young lavender alicorn stood there in his study. Her eyes were wide with fascination, and her lips were slightly parted in an expression of awe.

“Who are you?” he asked as soon as the wheels in his brain were once more capable of motion. “Why are you an alicorn? Where did you find the timestone?”

“I am sorry,” said the girl, shaking her head in confusion. Her accent made her words seem chirpy and bird-like. “I am sorry; I am sorry. My High Unicornian is not very good. I only can practice it with Celestia and Luna sometimes.”

“You know Celestia?” Star Swirl’s eyes widened when another realization hit him. “You know Luna? She is well?”

The young mare beamed at his words and nodded. “Yes! Yes! They are both well, and they are happy. They told me about the timestone, and they wanted me to meet you.”

A thought seemed to cross the alicorn’s mind. She struck her face with her hoof in embarrassment, and then reached out with it.

“I’m sorry again, I forgot to introduce myself,” she said, cheerily. “I am Twilight Sparkle, and I am the Princess of Friendship of Equestria.”

“Twilight Sparkle,” said Star Swirl as he took her hoof and shook it. “May I ask how old you are?”

“Of course!” she said. “I am twenty and one, and it has been two years since I ascended.”

“You ascended,” asked Star Swirl, incredulously, “when you were nineteen? Even Celestia was almost a full decade older when she earned her wings.”

Twilight Sparkle blushed with embarrassment.

“Yes, I did. But it was with your help,” she said. “I have been a big… what is the word… admirer of your work for a long time. And two years ago, Celestia gave me your notebook. It had a big uncompleted spell in it, and when I solved it I learned enough about Magic and Harmony to become an alicorn.”

“My spellbook?” Star Swirl would not have believed what he was hearing if it were not being told in front of him at that very moment. “You ascended with one of my spells? Which one? Which one, girl?”

“The Destiny Spell,” she said. “When I realized that Friendship was an immutable part of everypony’s destiny, I solved it. And I Grew because of it.”

“Incredible,” Star Swirl breathed. “Could entertain an old stallion for one last question?”

“Of course!” Twilight smiled from ear to ear.

“How long…” said Star Swirl, “How long did it take you to figure it out.”

Twilight tilted her head in thought.

“Two days,” she said. “Oh, but it was evening. So a night and then a day, I suppose. About twenty-four hours, minus my sleep.”

“Twenty-four hours…” Star Swirl stared at the floor for a minute.

“Mister Star Swirl,” asked Twilight politely after some time had passed. “Do you mind if I ask you a question as well?”

“Of course not, child,” said Star Swirl, straightening himself and dusting off his mind. “Do fire away.”

“How did you make the timestone?” she asked a foal’s curiosity in her eyes. “And how did you make this pocket universe?”

“This pocketspace, I did not make,” he admitted. “I found it between the dream realm and our own, and it suited my needs very nicely. As for the stone, I forged it during a heavenly alignment. I set it as the anchor between our world and this place.”

“Can… Can we make another?” she asked, tentatively.

Star Swirl smiled knowingly. “It shattered when you used it, didn’t it?”

Twilight nodded, sadly. “I tried to hold it together during the spell, but it was already too weak from before.”

“Do not fret,” said Star Swirl. “It was only ever made for five. And, no, I don’t think you’ll be able to craft another. The next full alignment of the stars isn’t due for another twelve thousand years. By then, without an anchor, this pocketspace will have drifted too far from your world to be tethered again.”

“But now, you will be alone,” she said. Her hooves stomped in helpless frustration. “Can I take you home with me?”

“Little girl,” Star Swirl said chuckling, “did Celestia and Luna not tell you how this spell worked? Only my mind was sent to this place, and the first thing I did here was to craft myself a this body from the dream-aether. My heart stopped beating fourteen hundred years ago. My bones have rotted to nothing by now.”

Twilight’s brow scrunched up in thought, and she chewed her lip. Finally, she shrugged and sat down.

“Then I will stay,” she said. “And keep you company. Nopony should be alone.”

“Are… Are you serious?” asked Star Swirl. “What about your life, my Princess? What of your friends and family and nation?”

“My friends have each other,” she said, “And my family does too. You have no one. My nation has three other princesses. And as for my life, I have an endless supply of it.” Twilight nodded resolutely. “I will spend thirty days here, to keep you company as long as I can. Thirty years will go by at home, but my friends will all still be there waiting for me when I return.”

She wiggled in her seat on the floor, as a show of determination.

“No,” said Star Swirl, giving her a deadpan glare. “That is a foolish sentiment. Thirty days will mean nothing in the long run.”

“It will mean something to you, who will otherwise have nothing,” said Twilight. “And who can say? Perhaps in thirty years, Celestia and Luna will find a way to keep the door between our worlds open for longer. And I will have a great chance to practice speaking Unicornian too.”

“You are as stubborn as Celestia was when she was your age,” said Star Swirl. “I suppose I shall have to force you out, then.”

Twilight smiled smugly. “I am almost as powerful as Celestia, and I have much more magical fitness. You don’t stand a chance.”

“Not in a fair fight, I don’t,” said Star Swirl.

Before Twilight could process what he said, Star Swirl willed a heavy band of pure nullstone into existence around Twilight’s horn. There was no flash of magic and no time to react. Star Swirl saw the panic in her eyes for just a moment before picking up the alicorn, nullring and all, in a levitation cloud.

“Wait!” she yelled. Her horn gave out a muffled glow underneath the ring.

Even now, Star Swirl could see her powering through the magic eating crystal around her horn with pure force. But it would even take Celestia a few seconds to overload this much nullstone, and Twilight had said that she was only almost as strong as Celestia.

“Goodbye, Twilight Sparkle. It was a pleasure to meet you,” he said.

Without waiting for a reply, he tossed her through the space-time chasm, and it closed behind her for the final time.

When she was gone, Star Swirl looked around his empty, quiet laboratory. He walked to his desk and flipped through the loose leaves of paper idly until he came to the one he was looking for.

On a stack of papers as thick as his hoof was round, there was a mangled mess of crossed-out equations and re-written incantations. A copy of his incomplete Destiny Spell. He gazed at it fondly.

“A girl,” he said “figured this out. A nineteen year old girl figured this out in a day.”

Smiling, he shook his head and magically raised the temperature of the wad of paper to the burning point. The fire quickly caught and engulfed the pages, leaving acrid smoke and dusty ash.

“Isn’t that just the damndest thing?”

***

III. The Third Visit

***

Immediately after the tear formed, Celestia’s voice rang out through the small room.

“Star Swirl!” she said as she stepped past the blinding light. “We have no time to waste.”

“What is it?” he said, preparing himself for the worst.

“Sombra has returned,” she said, “and he commands dark magics. He has taken the Crystal City and enslaved its occupants.”

“Sombra? How could he—” Star Swirl shook his head quickly to clear it. “Does he prepare to invade? Has he made any demands?”

“Not yet,” Celestia said. “He has taken a defensive hold of the City and has not yet made his goals known.”

Star Swirl poundered this information for a moment.

“How goes your campaign to win over the public?” he finally asked.

Celestia’s brow scrunched.

“Is that really important right now?” she said, with a hint of an edge.

“Yes,” said Star Swirl, firmly. “It is.”

“Then, it goes well,” said Celestia. A hurriedness crept into her voice. “There is a yearly celebration in my honor, and I am likely the realm’s most well-known figure. The three nations are separate only in name. Luna and I are applying our influence to complete the unification.”

Star Swirl sat for a minute, thinking, while Celestia waited. She seemed to count each second that went by on restless hooves.

“Strike him now. Swiftly,” said Star Swirl. “You cannot afford to lose the public’s confidence with a long war in a faraway land. Sombra is likely still gathering strength from escaping Tartarus, and you and Luna have only grown in strength since your last encounter. I am confident that you can best him, even without me this time.”

“Luna has suggested the same thing,” said Celestia. “She will be pleased to hear that you agree with her.”

Celestia wrapped a wing around Star Swirl’s back as she turned back towards the portal.

“Thank you for your advice, old friend,” she said, “I’m sorry that I could not stay for long, but minutes here are days lost out there.”

“Go,” said Star Swirl. “Don’t waste time on my account.”

Celestia paused for a moment, and then said, “I’ll let you know how this turns out when it’s over.”

“Don’t bother,” said Star Swirl. “I know you’ll be fine.”

The alicorn smiled. “Thank you,” she said before she stepped out of his pocket world.

Star Swirl waited one hour, and then another, staring at the place where the tear had been. But as the minutes ticked by without incident, he straightened and huffed to himself.

“They’ll be fine,” he declared to an empty room. Turning back to his desk, he opened the book Celestia gave him and half-heartedly continued to mark down notes and equations.

***