“Are you sure about this?”
Twilight looked up from her control console, giving Pinkie a confident look. “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. So far time travel hasn’t ended very well for you,” Pinkie said, gazing over the intricate wiring and electrics that surrounded Twilight. “I mean the first time involved a fun spy mission, but you were stressed out the whole time.”
“Well, this time will be different,” she stated confidently. “I’m not dealing with an apocalyptic prophecy, and there's no villain to defeat. It’s just a simple trip. No high stakes whatsoever.”
Pinkie moved her hoof to stroke what seemed like an imaginary beard. “I guess, but this is still dangerous, isn’t it? Going so far back, what if you get stuck or change something that has a huge knock-on effect here?”
“Pinkie, relax. If I wasn’t sure this would work, I wouldn’t do it. I’ve already tested this many times on shorter time frames. Not only have they all been a success—evident by the fact I’m still here—but they don’t even affect our timeline. They all start a parallel timeline that I leave upon returning.”
Pinkie nodded her head slowly. “Okie... dokie... lokie…”
Twilight plugged the final few wires in and began making her final safety checks. “And, characteristically, I triple secured my trip home. A remote, the back-up remote, and a timer that brings me back automatically. So there's no need to panic.”
Pinkie’s look remained concerned, but regretfully sighed. “Fine. I just don’t get why you’re so obsessed with doing things that make me worry.”
“I swear that’s only an unfortunate byproduct.” Twilight said with a smile.
She finished of her final safety checks, made sure the cables were all in properly, and double checked the time and location on the control panel. All the while Pinkie was making her own safety checks, probably trying to find a reason to postpone the expedition.
But, much to her own excitement, Twilight announced gleefully that everything was correct and she was ready to go. She was finally going to meet her hero, Star Swirl the Bearded.
“Wait!” Pinkie yelled. “Are you sure you’re surely sure about this? Isn’t there a saying about meeting your heroes?”
Twilight gave her a patient smile. “Yes, I know, I know. I’ve met enough of my heroes that I’m perfectly aware they hardly ever match all my expectations.
“But, and it’s a big but, I still think meeting the pony who is arguably the greatest wizard of all time is a worthwhile trip, regardless of his inevitable shortcomings.”
“Fine,” Pinkie conceded, “but only if you’re sure you’re sure.”
“I am surely sure, Pinkie.”
Twilight moved to the middle of all her wires and contraptions, gave Pinkie a wave goodbye, who returned a sorrowful one, and took out her remote. Taking a long breath, she raised her hoof over the button and pushed down.
She would like to have said how time travel was this immense weightless feeling— she would have even been happy with the weird falling sensation caused by the portal to CHS—but instead, using her machine felt like being hit in the head by a sack of bricks, and then waking up where you set course for.
This was the experience that then caused her to be knocked to the ground in an unfamiliar room. Shaking her head, she managed to regain her bearings enough to pull herself up from, what she realised was, a carpeted floor.
Looking around, she was greeted by a badly lit and very messy study room. Study room being the conclusion gained from the large amount of books and paperwork scattered about it.
But, in the corner, facing away from her, sat ‘him’. The blue cloak, large hat, both littered with pointed yellow stars and white moons. The pale white hoofs she could just see scribbling down letters on a piece of paper. It was actually him!
Twilight readied herself, putting on the most composed manner she could muster. She coughed. “Excuse me, Star Swirl, I am—”
“Fack off.”
She froze. “Excuse me?”
“Fack off.” He scoffed. “Do ya’ need me to point out the door for ya’?”
Star Swirl’s horn glowed and the door suddenly swung open, causing Twilight to jump.
“Look, I even opened it for ya’, that’s more than most get. I’d count ya stars and, well, fack off.”
Twilight just stared at him, tilting her head slightly as her brain desperately tried to make sense of the situation.
“Please tell me ya’ can at least trot,” he said with an impatient huff. “I don’t wanna waste energy moving ya myself.”
“Star Swirl, please. My name is Twilight and I’m—”
“Another desperate mother with a child sick from the plague. I’ve had to deal with far too many of ya’ recently. I’ll tell ya’ what I told ‘em: If I had a cure for the plague, I woulda’ sent someone to the town with it, and not just hand ‘em out one by one to desperate mothers.”
Twilight’s mouth hung open, all efforts to move her thoughts to a concise sentence failing her.
“I know that’s difficult to hear,” he continued. “but you better get over it. Such short life expectancies mean you don’t have much time for moping around.”
Twilight’s expression hadn’t changed, but she pulled together her thoughts for a second swing. “Star Swirl, you don’t understand. I’m not just a normal towns pony, I’m—”
He groaned, stopping his writing just to put his head in his hooves. “Please, not another sob story. ‘Oh Swirl, you don’t understand, our child is special because of generic reason X and we need your personal help because of generic reason Y.
“Ya do realise I’ve heard that story millions of times, and it’s insanely boring. What do think is it exactly that makes ya’ life so different from everybody else? I could walk to the nearest rat infested shit-hole ya’ lot call a village and listen to their stories, because they’re most likely the same.”
“Shut up!” Twilight shouted before immediately covering her hoof, realising she had just told her lifelong hero to ‘shut up’.
“What I mean is,” she desperately tried to continue, “if you’d just look at me, you’ll realise I am indeed different.”
He gave another little groan and glanced behind him. For a split second he went back to work, but then he suddenly flipped around completely. “You’re an alicorn!”
“You haven’t got a beard!” Twilight yelled out of shock.
Yes, under the unicorn’s recognisable pale face, there was no grand display of a long bushy beard, just a lot of scruffy hairs you’d expect to see on a badly shaved stallion.
Star Swirl’s expression immediately turned from shock to anger. “Oh fack off,” he said, returning to his work. “What, first day being an alicorn and ya decided to tick of ‘make fun of Star Swirl’ early. Piece of facking shite alicorns.”
“B-but you're called Star Swirl the bearded,” Twilight persisted. “How do you not have a beard?”
“Oh ha ha, you think you lot are so funny, don’t ya,” he spat. “‘Look, Star Swirl is the only wizard who can’t grow a beard, let's all call him ‘Star Swirl the Bearded’ and make artists draw beards on his pictures. That will show him’.”
Twilight's face was distraught, it was all getting too much for her. “Wait, but that’s, you can’t even grow a beard?”
“Alright, no need to rub it in.” He huffed. “Ya’ are almost as bad as Celestia.”
Twilight stepped back. “‘Almost as bad’? I thought you two were best friends.”
“Ha! What kind of potions are ya on?” He turned to face her again. “Tell me, I want some.”
“But… but…” Twilight sighed, unable to muster speech.
Star Swirl frowned at her. “Ya are a weird kid.”
“...why,” she finally managed to push out.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Comin’ here, asking strange questions, this flustered state you’re in. It’s all probably because of some mental condition.”
“No, not that. Why aren’t you two friends?”
“Oh, that. Being smarter than her has somethin’ to do with it. Got some serious self confidence issues, that lady. Constantly needs to feel better and bigger than everypony else. Every facking day she’s like ‘look at me, I raise the sun with my magic, surely that means I should be universally loved and be the unquestioned ruler’. What a bitch.”
“But she always talks so fondly of you,” Twilight persisted, doing her best to suppress her royalist urge to snap at him for insulting the Princess.
Star Swirl scoffed. “Talk ‘fondly’ of me? I think ya’ got me confused for someone else. I recall the last thing she said to me was ‘Star Swirl, still not dead I see’. To which I replied ‘at least one day I will be rid of ya’, the whole of Equestria’s stuck with ya forever’.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well, ya see, because she’s immortal, I’m saying it would be better to die than to be stuck with—”
“Not the joke, I get that. What I don’t get is why she always said such nice things about you to me.”
“I think she was just pulling ya leg, kid.”
Twilight couldn’t help but look visibly confused. “But that doesn’t make sense either.”
Star Swirl stopped to think for a second. “Yea, that doesn’t make much sense, does it. Why would she lie to a pony she was gonna make an alicorn, and about somethin’ so pointless as well.” He looked back to Twilight. “Speaking of which, why are ya an alicorn. I thought Celestia was still moping over her sister.”
There was a second when Twilight frowned at Star Swirl, but she quickly remembered that the time she was in was only a few years after Luna’s banishment.
“Poor gal, that one,” Star Swirl continued, “not much to do on the moon, ya’d get bored of it quickly. Not to mention it’s basically a thousand years of solitary confinement, and it only takes a couple of years of that for someone to snap completely. When she gets back she’s gonna be pissed; if she still remembers how to talk, that is.”
Star Swirl sat back on his chair, looking more like he was contemplating by himself than talking to Twilight. “Why is it always a thousand years? It sounds more like she just chooses epic sounding numbers more than having any kind of thought out punishment system. Yeah, keeping Discord as a stone statue in the royal gardens makes for a great story, but can’t you think of a single facking way that could go wrong?
“And of course they’re angry when they get out, you’ve kept this facking sentient being in a small cage in tartarus for a thousand years, I’d try to kill ya if you did that to me.”
Star Swirl scrunched up his face and started waving his hooves theatrically. ”Oh, it seems after all this time of solitude has made evil villian number eighteen even worse; not magically reformed him. Let’s throw him back in for another thousand years and see if it works this time. Third time’s the charm!”
Twilight stared blankly at him. “Was that a Princess Celestia impression?”
“Yeah, it’s a work in progress but I think it’s alright.”
“It was terrible.”
“Eh, everyone’s a critic.” Star Swirl turned back round and carried on writing in his book. “All I’m saying is that in a thousand years time there’s gonna be a few unlucky sods who has to go round sorting out all these ticking time bombs.”
Twilight went to argue, but unfortunately realised that ‘well, he’s not wrong,’ and stopped herself.
“Maybe one day she’ll start listening to me on that. Not that ya’d understand why it’s important.”
“No, I agree with you,” Twilight said, thinking over all the newly reformed villains she now considered friends.
Star Swirl turned to give Twilight the most inquisitive look so far. “Really?”
Twilight was a bit taken aback by the response. “Yes, if there’s one thing I’ve learnt is that there’s good in everyone, albeit sometimes misguided.”
Star Swirl scratched the side of his facial scruff. “And where in equestria did you learn that? It took me years of studying the social sciences to figure that out. As far as I know most ponies round her believe evil to come from devils that have seduced ponies.”
“Really?” Twilight asked, a bit surprised by the statement.
“Yeah, it’s faking insane.” He leant forward to Twilight. “You ask these nobles why crime rates are so high in the villages, they say ‘it’s because peasants are more susceptible to the devil.’ Yeah mate, nothin’ to do with starving ponies needing more food than they have.”
“That’s idiotic.” Twilight stated. “How can they be so blissfully unaware?”
“I know. Do you see what I have to put up with, it’s the reason I’m so angry all the time.” Star Swirl had a look of passion in his eyes, but it suddenly turned to intrigue. “Ya are not from here, are ya.”
Twilight let out a little shy chuckle. “Not exactly. I’m Twilight Sparkle and while I was born quite close to here, it was in about a thousand years.”
Instead of confusion or disbelief, Star Swirl replied with an understanding nod. “Ah, time travel, that explains it. Nice to know ponies started using their heads eventually. Even if it took a tad long.”
Twilight tilted her head at the indifference toward her time traveling, but decided not to mention it.
“But why me?” he asked. “Isn’t there anyone you’d rather go back in time to see?”
Twilight gave him a confused look. “Not really. I’ve always wanted to meet equestria's greatest wizard ever born.”
Star Swirl let out a loud groan. “Seriously, now that’s depressing.” He motioned to his left wall, which was covered in pinned up pieces of paper with ruth scribbling over them, something Twilight hadn’t noticed till now. “Ya seriously telling me no one’s been able to outdo the bollocks I wrote.”
Twilight, now that she’d seen the notes, could not resist rushing over to get a closer look. “These are amazing,” she said giddily looking over each note. “This one’s your theory on elemental magic. That’s your model for a flying contraption using helium. This is the equation that led to our modern understanding of chemistry!”
Starswirl skeptically looked at Twilight as she darted from one note to the next, getting more and more excited as she did. “Ponies don’t normally give my work that much attention.”
Twilight turned back to him. “What? But this is the work that took Equestria out of the dark ages!”
He shook his head. “It would take a lot more than me to drag this backwards looking and xenophobic empire out the gutter. We need structural reform and a bit of openness.”
He motioned over to the pile of books to his right. “Most of what ya think is so great was just me expanding on these books I’ve read. If we’re going to sort ourselves out we need to start reading these again.”
Twilight curiously made her way over to the books and opened one. “I don’t know the language.”
“It’s in Griffish. As much as the nobles here want ponies to think the Great Griffin Empire to our south is full of savages, they’re in the middle of a Golden age of science and learning.” He shrugged. “I’m merely the last pony in Equestria that still remembers how to learn.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “‘Still remembers’?”
He tapped a brown book that was next to him. “Some of them have been translated from Ancient Equestrian. These books were written in these lands under the banner of the First Equestrian Empire. We of course lost them during our decline, but the Griffins, who lived under us, kept them safe. I hope one day we find a need for them again.”
Twilight glanced back over to the notes on his wall. “But the work you did was revolutionary.”
He shrugged. “Maybe, but I can think of ten griffins who’ve done a better job than me. It sounds to me like this obsession ya have with me comes from the fact the nobility would never admit the important discoveries came from abroad.
“Though that does explain why ya time’s Celestia speaks fondly of me. She’s just playing along with the narrative. I’m a creative telling of history, nothing more kid.”
Twilight placed the book she was holding back down. She was beginning to feel very deflated. She almost wanted to cross what he was saying off as just modesty.
“That said, I am the smartest living creature for miles. Despite my failed efforts to convince the nobility for the need to change, many of the peasants see me as the only one who can get things done.” He grinned. “Somethin’ that annoys them beyond belief.”
‘Okay, he’s definitely not a modest pony’ she thought.
“So anyway, how did I go?” Star Swirl asked. “Did old Celestia finally have enough and decide to blast me into space? I’ve always wanted to go out with a bang.”
Twilight gave him an unimpressed frown. “I can’t tell you that.”
“What, why not?” he moaned. “How am I meant to stop my demise if I don’t know how it comes.”
“Sorry, no.” She shook her head. “Pretty sure that breaks all the rules.”
“Ya no fun.” He grunted. “Can you at least tell me how you figured out the whole time travel thing.”
Twilight itched the back of her head. “I didn’t really figure it out. I just kind of expanded on the work you did.”
“What? All that theorising actually led to time travel?” He thought for a second. “But if I had the base for it, why didn’t I figure it out?”
“Actually, you never finished it.”
“But I was so close, and I never leave something unfinished.”
“Sorry, but you disappeared before you finished it.”
“Disappeared?”
“Um.”
“Ha! Ya slipped.” he happily pointed at her with his victory but promptly grunted. “Actually, disappearing doesn’t help me. How am I meant to stop whatever happens to me if no one actually knows.”
“It could have easily been old age,” Twilight countered. “You wouldn’t have been able to stop that.”
“Maybe it’s not somethin’ ya could do, but unlocking immortally is something that’s also on my to do list. I mean if someone like Sunbutt could do it, then it can’t be that hard to figure out.”
“Will you stop insulting the princess.”
“Ya sound just like the nobles, and they’re all assholes.”
“Is there anyone in equestria that you do like?”
Star Swirl stopped for a moment, before turning to face Twilight. “I like ya. Ya actually pretty good. Most ponies normally make fun of me or just walk away much earlier, but ya at least seem somewhat interested in what I have to say.”
Twilight stopped in bewilderment. Even though her opinions of Star Swirl had plummeted downwards before hitting the hard ground, the feeling of getting a compliment from her life long hero still managed to overwhelm her.
“But seeing how I like ya, I think it only fair that I tell you the big problem with this whole time traveling business ya got yourself into.”
Twilight raised her eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I’m assuming the reason ya weren’t worried about coming this far back was because ya figured out it would create a parallel universe instead of changing the original.”
Twilight nodded. “I tested it by putting a cup in my room and when I went back it wasn’t there. No one had moved it back, it simply wasn’t ever there.”
“Well here’s the problem with that. This universe ya created would have that ‘verses’ Twilight repeat your experiment, creating another universe, only for her to come back and find the mug ya placed there. And as ya probably figured out each of these Twilights would continue to create universes with more Twilights creating more universes endlessly.”
“...Oh.” Twilight stared blankly at him. This thought had never crossed her mind. “But does that change anything?”
He shrugged. “Probably not. If the sudden creation of infinite universes caused some kinda disaster, you wouldn’t be here, so it probably won’t do that. What is does mean is that the chances of you being the original Twilight are insanely slim.”
Twilight’s head was going into overdrive trying to keep up with his implications. “So what does that mean?”
“Again, probs nothing important. It only means that chances are your universe had some other Twilight come visit me back in your past. They probably had the same conversation we had.”
“But surely because I never found the mug in my room I’m the original Twilight?” She half asked, half thought aloud?
“Maybe, but the chances of that are immensely slim. What’s more likely is that you’re one of the infinite Twilights created when one Twilight decided to remove the mug beforehand.”
“But that…” Twilight groaned. “Time travel is far too complicated.”
“Tell me about it,” Star Swirl said with a grin. “Why do you think I keep it on my list of things to do.”
Twilight went to question him once more but was interrupted by the beep from her mechanical watch.
“That sound mean you’ll be leaving now?” Star Swirl asked.
She nodded.
“Probably for the best. As fun as this was, I need to get back to work,” he said turning back to his desk.
“May I ask what you’re working on?”
“A cure for the plague,” he said nonchalantly. “None of the alchemists have any idea what’s going on so it’s up to me, again.”
Twilight let a little smile appear on her face. “Good luck Star Swirl.”
“You too kid.”
That’s when Twilight felt the hard thump that knocked her to her castle floor.
The only consolation was that the return wasn’t as bad as the arrival, and despite her now spinning head, she was able to lift herself up quickly.
This was until a sudden pink flash knocked her back to the floor.
“I missed you so much,” Pinkie cried. “I’ve never been more worried.”
Twilight tried to wiggle free from the tight grasp she now found herself in. “Yes, I’m fine, Pinkie. How long was I gone?”
“The longest fifteen minutes of my life,” Pinkie huffed as she gave Twilight enough room to breathe. “You have to promise never to do that again!”
Twilight rubbed her head. “I think I might have to agree to that.”
“Why?” Pinkie asked, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t your visit go well?”
“Kind of, I guess. I need some time to think it over. It was a lot to take in.”
“Really? What was he like?”
Twilight thought for a second. “Hard to explain. I guess I should start with the fact he doesn’t have a—”
Twilight was interrupted by a sudden flash of bright light in the middle of the room that made both her and Pinkie jump back. From the light stood the shot and familiar, albeit much older, pale face and blue cape of her hero.
Star Swirl shot her a grin. “Told ya I’d get round to figuring out the whole time travel thing.”
