Vice Versa

by wwWarden

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mystery, Science Fiction, Starswirl the Bearded
Length: 6745

What can possibly happen on a plain boring meetup of the most powerful wizards of Equestria? We'll see it - in the future.

Do you know what’s the life of retired members of the Royal Academy of Magic is?
I wouldn’t like, but the time has no mercy, and everything comes in its place.
Well, royal wizard’s life is not boring at all, I can tell. This is a secret for most of the ponies living, but what adventures we had! We fought dragons and timberwolves, the very Ursus Major was firstly defeated by us. We discovered hidden treasures - literally, rivers of gold, flickering seas of gems and jewellery, mostly everything that is now contained in the Canterlot treasury. We travelled beyond the known Equestria boundaries with a mission of retrieval the rarest plant in the world. Celestia’s personal finance assistant lost count of rooms exploded during experiments with uncalibrated spells.
No, I can’t say that we were bored, but when we were younger, we were less wise but more willing and powerful. Suddenly, we are not anymore and what we are left with is just lecturing to fillies and little meetups. It surely is more serene life than we used to have, but also less exciting, that we just didn’t manage to get used to. So we were making fun from gathering up from time to time in different places, exchanging news and discussing politics (though, you know, what politics is there in Equestria?). But even in such circumstances we were actually able to find some adventures… Probably not the funniest ones. So, now something pushes me to take my pen, spare a sheet or two of paper and lay a story down, a weird story with uncertain end. It bothered me for the whole time since it happened. Here it is...

Published 2018-07-12 16:00:10 UTC
Last updated 2018-07-12 16:00:10 UTC

How it all starts and how it all - ends?

Somewhere off to the Canterlot suburbs, where the houses lose in height and splendor, an inn rested in the maze of sidewalks and alleys. Rare could find it without knowing the exact location, though it was almost never empty. A wooden sign above the entrance stated “Pipehorn”, with letters blurred and partly erased by time and humidity. And there did I directed myself, for it was our usual place of weekly meeting, on the second floor in a medium-size room.

As most of the honorable members of the Royal Academy of Magic, I was living nearby the castle, in a mansion on the A’vournewn Street. It was a long way from here to there, but always worth it - you can’t help, but admit the Canterlot’s beauty. And it doesn’t decrease in impressiveness in a distance from the Canterlot castle - un contraire, it just changes and only takes advantage from the change, turning from massive and overwhelming marble-grandiose to more delicate joyful among the outer circle of Canterlot.

And so was I following the central avenue, which led almost right to the inn. It was broad alright; clicking of hooves against cobblestone was heard all around. It was turning twilight already, and everything had a yellow tint on it. Despite Canterlot was built on a nasty cliff, open for all winds, it didn’t even feel cold. Actually, it was caused by the line of street lights with shining embers on their top, emitting soft and warm orange glow. Those were an invention of my old colleague, Hearthoof Ether, professor of illumination, who was, most likely, going to be on today’s meeting too.

The street was getting more crowded every minute. I felt almost physical friction, making my way through hustling ponies, but I didn’t mind. Laughter and joyful talks sounded in all directions, demonstrating the health of the nation. Some ponies smiled at me, recognizing the author of “Safe Alchemy”, way one of the most popular books on the subject, I tell you without redundant modesty. I have little reasons to be modest, though, that’s due to my name - Inky Acid. Obviously, I prefer to omit the last name and sign as “mr Inky” or “professor Inky”, but such looks sort of funny or even silly - most of my friends used to mention the fact.

And while I was walking through the street, I suddenly realised that I was catching glimpses of a familiar orange-pink mane in the crowd, in a distance forth. I could bet that it was Hearthoof, and liked the plan of catching up with him, but it was practically impossible to make it through the crowd. So, I just continued my easy pace - we would meet at the inn anyway.

And I saw the turn to the sidewalk needed - it was resting to the left, a black gap between wooden houses. Even look on it could chill to bone, comparing to warmer-colors environment. A specificity of the lighting, I would say, but what an unpleasant one!

The owner of the mane I was talking about already took that turn, thirty meters before me, so I tried to accelerate and make the rest of the way sooner. The effort was in vain - the only value increased was the number of collisions with other ponies - and when I reached the sidewalk, Hearthoof was already gone. One was required to pass additional ten meters to enter the inn, and I changed the pace to more active - my hooves almost instantly froze when I got in the shadows. There was a nasty trailing wind flow, not reaching ankles just a bit, and the very air was rather cold. Unfortunately, I had to make an undesired stop nearby the door, and I’m still wondering, what actually was that eerie encounter. I found myself regarded by a figure, which I could not identify - it stood in the dark, covered in tattered cloak with its hood on, only his yellow nose was seen.

“I’m sorry? Can I help you?” - I timidly asked.

The figure did not react and I attempted to approach. My first step was left without attention, but on the second the stranger recoiled, rushed past me, shoving me against the wall - I hit my side - and fled out of the sidewalk like an arrow, leaving me in confusion. I stood for a minute, thinking about chasing, until figured that it was too late anyway. I shrugged, rubbed the bruise and entered the inn.

There was a hall inside, with the ceiling quite low. It was well-illuminated by an excessive amount of torches in holders on the stone walls. The latter were all in soot, rumoured not to be washed for like a half of a century. I actually tend to believe that, but only bartender would say for sure - and he was standing by his desk from the left, massive, like a mountain, silent, like a rock, and Rock Bell was his name. I nodded at him and his reply nearly knocked me out.

“Take the stairs, your friends are already up there,” - he growled, and I carefully thanked him, walking through the hall, examined by a few visitors. One question suddenly appeared in my head and stopped me in the middle of my way.

“Actually… Rock Bell?” - after he directed me I completely left his field of view and was replaced by a glass, which was diligently washed with a dry rag. Now he stared at me with the expression of extreme displeasure, but I couldn’t tell what exactly was the reason.

“Wasn’t your inn visited by a… mysterious pony lately? Specifically, one, all wrapped in gray tattered cloak. And she - though, I’m not quite confident about the gender - has a yellow nose.”

Rock Bell regarded the sooted ceiling for a second and shook his head.

“No way,” - he rumbled and shut. However, my little investigation wasn’t over yet.

“Alright, maybe you’ve seen some of my friends walking in, particularly, an orange pony with the mane of sunset pink?”
He commited same actions, so was the answer.

Well, either I confused Hearthoof for someone else - which, of course, could happen - or he was just so sneaky on entrance, that Rock Bell did not notice him. Or… well, I doubt something hostile could happen to such a powerful sorcerer that Hearthoof was.

“Thanks, anyway,” - I replied, partly to satisfy my inner considerations, and went to my initial target.

Those stairs were as old, as everything here. They creaked so much that they could wake up the dragon on the other side of Canterlot Valley. Personally, I was horrified to death every time I stepped on them, nearly levitating myself with magic to lighten the load.

And the picture that one got on ascendance was no better. A narrow, obscure corridor with dust floating in the air, almost physically sensible. Ancient as the world wallpapers were dirty and shabby, of that extinct aristocratic kind with an uncomplicated ornament on a beige background. Baseboards were of polished wood, but swelled in some places, immodestly showing mouse holes. The corridor was heaped with wooden boxes and sacks, and planks, of which the floor consisted, weren’t going to be defeated by staircase in the amount of generated decibelles.

I carefully horsed through the corridor, simultaneously inventing a new phrasal verb to define something between “dance” and “walk”. I never mentioned, but that’s the power of an honoured member of The Royal Academy of Magic. It was possible to notice doors in the walls, but even attempt of doing that was a challenge. However, I knew where I was going and wasn’t mistaken, approaching the door, copper sign of which barely read “41”. Besides, I heard an indistinct chatter, which became clearer, when I intended to open the door.

The chatter belonged to those, whom I knew for a long time. They were my closest friends and colleagues from The Academy, the ones, who, factually, moved the progress forward. There were the first ones to ever try multiforce levitation schemes, battle spells and complicated transformations.

When I came in, all the sights turned to me. In the furthest corner, near-by a fireplace, laid a cobalt-blue unicorn with curly silver mane and a long beard. The latter, actually, gave him his name. It was Starswirl the Bearded, one of the oldest mages in Equestria.

To the left of him, hidden in deceitful gleams and shadows of fire, rested Wave Ophane, a unicorn of pale-blue coat and ghostly-purple mane, conservatively combed and styled. The image of typical librarian, whom he was, was carefully completed with giant negative-diopter glasses.

Thoughtful Ophane was partly overlapped from my point of view by Aerial Vine, a stallion, who possessed a noble combination of palish purple coat and turquoise mane. The expression of arrogance seemingly never left him.

The fourth member of the party now was standing still with a smile on his yellow face, greeting me upon the right of the youngest. His orange mane in conjunction with the color of his coat was, actually, only the second bright spot in our caravan of bleakness after the fireplace. Actually, Sunlight Flicker was like a fireplace himself. When he first came to The Academy, he was considered just another johnny-come-lately, as there was a lot of those in The Academy since a particular moment. But Sunlight then eagerly proved that his brains are worth ours with his mad, but working ideas.

I nodded at him and then noticed, that they all were laying on some kind of pillows, there was two unoccupied.

“Come, take one for yourself. These poufs are miraculous,” - Starswirl invited me. I didn’t make them wait.

“Are we pending for someone else? I don’t see Ether, though I expected to,” - I expressed my worriness.

“I do remember him intending to attend our today meeting,” - Ophane cut my hesitations, checking with the paper which he held before himself, - “he is in the list. Well, it’s time to start already, anyway. Most likely, he suddenly faced very special circumstances or just going to be late.”

I silently agreed, so as the rest of us.

“Let’s wait no more then,” - Starswirl denied any further discussion, gathering our attention, - “and let me announce the meeting open. And the first question I would like to discuss is the reception that zebra alchemist received two days ago at Celestia’s throne room. I’m not sure, how exactly it is connected with our current relations with Jungle Villages, but, in my opinion…” - he continued on, almost putting me asleep.

***
And I actually napped. When I awakened, Ophane debated with Starswirl about introducing anti-gravity spell into fishing industry. It’s not that like it was really fascinating topic, but it was rather amusing to see Ophane arguing in his funny feeble voice. He was of that kind of ponies, who observe an action with misty eyes and indifferent expression, bursting into short-lasting activity on some random trigger, which touches personally them. Now, both Aerial and Sunlight were watching at him with barefaced interest.

But I didn’t want to sleep anymore, so I cleared my throat to get attention. The discussion died in a mild quarrel and they all stared at me.

“You may have forgotten, but Sunlight announced that he has something big to tell to us today,” - I reminded, for it was absolute truth, - “I guess, we had enough of prelude and now can move to the main subject.”

Starswirl apologetically agreed and suggested that Sunlight start. The pony thankfully nodded and stood up, slowly making his way around the room.

“Alright, shall I begin. You all know me as Sunlight Flicker, professor of illumination. Personally, I hardly remember all of the articles that I wrote together with each of you; I hardly remember all of the discoveries that we made - that is how much we know each other. But you can’t be aware of my most recent activities…” - he archly glanced at Starswirl, - “...if only the Bearded didn’t spoil me the triumph,” - tricky smile terminated his introduction and we looked at Starswirl, not quite understanding what is about to happen. Starswirl only shook his head and attention bounced back to Flicker.
“So be it known to you, that recently we’ve done an impressive research in arcane connections with our precious colleague, Hearthoof Ether, who is, unfortunately, absent today. And when I presented those researches to Starswirl, the honored headmaster of the royal Academy of Magic, he was especially kind to award me with a new title. From now on, I proudly possess a certificate of being a professor of arcane connections.”

The consequent silence was a short-lasting phenomenon and next second we burst into applauses. Starswirl was hiding a timid smile in his beard, but in vain - it was like trying to hide a treasure in a spring forest. Sunlight was standing where he were, with his head dropped down humbly, but proudly. He had all the reasons to celebrate, though - he was the youngest of us and already had two grades, a feature, which was rarely found even among the older members of the Academy. It also displayed that we were not mistaken, accepting him into our community.

When we got calmer, I paused and asked for continuation.

“And what was that you were researching and got so highly awarded? And, considering Hearthoof’s absence, wasn’t it a bit harmful?” - I chuckled, but Sunlight frowned.

“Frankly, I have no idea about Ether’s whereabouts, but our work was not dangerous. No… it was just different. But I can tell that he was scared by what was revealed to us. Celestia, he refused the honor that I couldn’t but accept! Our goodbyes weren’t very friendly ones.”

I sighed and heard astonished “Oh!” from behind.

“But… did you put up then?”

“Yes, of course. It is a nonsense that colleagues are cold to each other. But, let’s establish the order of things.”
We exchanged looks with each other.

“All right, we all ears,” - Aerial claimed.

Sunlight inhaled, gathering his thoughts together and started over.

“So, we all know that there are a plenty of methods to deliver magical energy from one point, say, a horn, to another,” - saying this, he started a spell. His horn glowed with a color of fire, so as a table clock, which stood on the oak plate behind him.

“Behold! I’m levitating the thing, assisting its lift with my own energy. This is the simplest spell…” - the clock made a few tricks and returned to its place, the glowing subsided, - “that any filly unicorn learns at the very beginning of the basic course, even without clear comprehension of how it works. But those, who casted the first spells, who stood at the origins of the whole magic science - they have passed a long and intricate path.”

I regarded Starswirl. His eyes were fixed on a point somewhere at the floor and he seemed to be wandering off mentally. But then his look shifted and he considered me with a deep and wistful expression, as if I stared into an abyss. I flinched and turned back to Sunlight.

“Any spell entails a number of issues needed to be resolved. One of them was that an effort of mind, projected through horn must be delivered and applied to desired object. And that’s how arcane connections appeared, the science about transmitting energies.”
“We all know that there are various methods of delivering magical energy from one point of the space to another. The most plain is, of course, the light. Starswirl in “The Book of Magic Basement” describes this process as so: ‘A sorcerer needs to gather stray particles of mental energy on the peak of his horn and then send it out as a single junction of shining bits. This, basically, is what we call a beam.’ With use of such a technique, one can shape a current reality for whatever skill and power he possess. It brings on certain overheads, though. For example, you always have to expect additional energetical load during the procedure, because the light tends to propagate widely, in all directions, and you can’t confine it, implying that you have to supply it with the greater amount of energy to achieve the desired effect.”
“But there is more, of course. For example, Princess Luna has an ability to distribute energies through ponies’ dreams - somehow. I am honestly not aware how she does it, and she might be the only pony existing to know how it’s done.”
“The source of dragons’ magic is operations over the temperature regime of surroundings. With their fire they can ignite an air and thus transmit it further, by means of natural oxygen combustion. And so on, and so on.”
“Factually, any other circumstance requires a certain type of arcane connection and the light is well-suitable in most cases. But when we’ve finally come to the idea of instant or almost instant travelling, that is, teleportation, old means turned to be irrelevant.”

“That was the time when our friend here, “ - he nodded at Starswirl, - “began his researches. In the end, they proved to be more successful, than anyone ever dared to expect.”

“Starswirl discovered the superlight waves, right?” - I asked, occasionally interrupting him.

“Technically, this is not the most appropriate term. They are not called ‘superlight waves’. A ‘superlight wave’ is, actually, a plain electromagnetic wave, a light beam, accelerated beyond the speed which we used to think of as the maximal speed of light. The official term right now is ‘tachyon’, which stands either for a wave and particle interpretation,” - Ophane corrected my shallow knowledge on the subject.

“Yes, that’s right,” - Sunlight rushed to regain our attention, - “By a certain time, there was a proper formula of a light-driven teleportation spell, developed by our friends from the former department of illumination. However, it was visibly ineffective - the processs of teleportation could take from a half of a second to a minute, depending on the distance, and also caused terrible overheads - a sorcerer needed to encode his body cells into light beams and overcome environmental friction, which interfered into distribution, causing malfunctions and partial cells delivery,” - Sunlight flinched, - “I still remember that poor pony, one of the first practicians in the Ether’s ‘Progressive Illumination’ team. Environmental friction completely slipped out of their calculations and he looked like a cracked stone until the end of his days.”
“But, anyway. So Starswirl was experimenting with light beams as well as the others. His experiments entailed various exercises of different energy exchange techniques upon an isolated light wave. Occasionally, one of them got accelerated beyond the known restriction of three hundred million steps per second. It was the wave, to which Starswirl applied Celestia’s high-frequency circle of energetical flow.”
“A particle, produced as a result of such acceleration, possessed amazing and wonderful properties - it moved way faster than light and, due to this, could break event order, for it might happen before any creature would ever find out that it did. It was dangerous, but unbelievable at once! It definitely needed corrections, so they were performed. Let’s consider some theory.”

His horn began to glow, and sparks, that danced around the fireplace and died in perspective like fireflies with a lifespan of a day within a second, started swarming, forming a disordered array, a twinkling cloud and then shaping into a complex structure under Sunlight’s control.

Illuminating thread stretched through the whole room, wildly fleeing among us and around Flicker. In a few seconds separated shining threads intertwined with each other and produced an integral pattern, orchestrated by him, and soon we saw a legible image of a graph, drawn with yellow lights and hanging right in the air.

“As you can see, this is a light beam in a nutshell - an electromagnetic wave, mathematically represented by a sine curve. Then…” - he moved his head, carefully pulling another sparkling string from the fireplace, - “then we try to examine a superlight.”

Flaming dots organised another sine curve, overriding the previous one.

“As we accelerate our beam, its sine also stretches horizontally,” - his words were immediately demonstrated - one of the curves extended along the horizontal axis, whilst the other stayed the same.

“Since its speed increases, the length of the wave also does - math states that the period is a length divided by speed. We have immutable period, so length turns to be directly proportional to speed. Then, let us remember the Ether’s timelight-timeline principle, which stochastically accords time-event order to the peaks of the graph. It becomes a bit broken. Of course it is just a model like probability theory, but a very precise one nevertheless. So, if I, for example, were led by this principle and corresponded some abstract event, say, an instant at which I left this room through that door, to some peak,” - he glanced at the curve and one of its dots - a glowing spark - flared and extinguished, leaving emptiness to act as a mathematical point, - “the same beam, but with a higher speed would shift this peak - and an event, attached to it, respectively, to a different place...” - as a proof, another dot left off, - “...due to stretching. Practically, the principle depends on empirical conclusions and can’t give any reasonable explanation to the inner workings of those things. But it proved to be working for yet - poor professor Luminar! - and we have to rely on it.”
“So, Starswirl made up a fixture for this…”

“Incorrect.”

Sunlight lowered his head in acceptance.
“I expected that it would be so, but you have to excuse me, because I dug through a crazy amount of books in many archives and wasn’t able to find much nonetheless.”

Starswirl began his remark in a voice squeaky and shrieking, like a millenium-aged treant.
“It was a path crooked and insidious. A lot of honorable ponies, as well as mentioned professor Luminar, disappeared in infinite planes of time before we came to the right value of shift coefficient. But Aerial can tell more.”

I looked at Aerial. In sparks and flares of Sunlight’s spell his pale-purple coat seemed strangely even paler than it really was. Through the soft mix of yellow and orange, his eyes were burning with ethereal flames.

He spoke and his usually high voice rang like a glass pole from some Chinese tale, which stands still on an unknown mountain for three thousand years and never falls.

“Luminar was my friend from the very school, we passed into the Academy together, and our first degrees we earned also together. The same way we’ve come to the idea of that damned experiment.”
“Initially, we just exercised the technique that Starswirl invented. Yes, it was definitely fascinating and funny to let off beams that flew faster than light and see how it turns out. But we could not track those beams, we couldn’t see, what’s happening in the process. That was when he became terribly determined on attempt of merging the basic teleportation spell, that of ‘Progressive Illumination’, with Celestia’s technique. I tried to dissuade him, but… You should know, that maniacs are not dealt with.”
“And so somewhat later, when he was done with calculations, we were back in the lab and he began his spell. He didn’t need my help, so I just stood and watched.”
“At first, his horn just started glowing as usual. His voice slightly trembled as he commented on his actions during the experiment. There was nothing interesting, to be honest - he just gathered energy inside himself, which was not visible for me. But then, in ten minutes or so, he eventually reached the final stage, when the energy, concentrated on the tip of the horn, is ready to be sent off.”
“All, what was left to do is just release the spell. But he waited, held the spell. Just stood and held it back, not daring to let off. When I was close to ask him what is he waiting for, Luminar very slowly, as if the air was a pitch, turned his head to look at me. His eyes were closed, and when he opened them I got… terrified. I was scared to death by his expression. He was deadly pale, but his eyes were sparkling with a thousand colors. And still, they were the eyes of a doomed.”

Aerial stopped. We kept silence, and only fireplace produced the sound of crackling. Shadows airily danced on the walls, not knowing a thing about horrors of universe and time.

“I’m not going back,” - Aerial spoke softly and quietly, - “he said back then. I didn’t understand and only whispered something uncertain. I was like brainwashed, thoughts ran away in fear. The next second it was too late to do anything at all. Luminar released the spell,” - Aerial heavily sighed, - “a kaleidoscope of unthinkable colors swallowed him, sparkling and crackling, lightnings and whirlwinds filled the room. A smell of ozone hit my nose and I almost passed out. A rift, emitting thousands rainbows, opened in the ceiling, pulled him inside and collapsed. Literally in a second everything was gone - including Luminar. The collapse knocked me out.”
“When I came back to the world, I tried to examine eerily silent room. The storm blew the candles out - in fact, it blew them away - so there was expectedly dark. Some items were gone, some fell and shattered. I reached the spot where Luminar stood and lit the horn. There, suddenly, a sensation came over me. Something was wrong with the room, but I couldn’t well understand, what. I feverly forced thoughts in my head, rummaged through them, and when I hit the needed one - the one about the spell, casted moments ago - I felt an enlightenment. I comprehended then, that the one casting the spell needs to alter an accelerated beam, shift its sine backwards to the moment, when its peaks will be even with current events.”
“Ever since, a lot of ponies became victims of wrong calculations, who tried to find the right shift value. They disappeared just like Luminar. And then, one day, Starswirl finally came up with the perfect formulae, with all previous mistakes considered.” - he finished his speech and sadly looked at us.

We respected the moment in silence. As for me, I was never actually aware of the history behind the plain teleportation spell. It was a thing simple as many other spells which a wizard uses thoughtlessly everyday, utilitarianly. But it turns out suddenly that there’s more hidden under the surface of Aerial’s arrogance.

“The story was impressive,” - Sunlight recovered the discussion carefully and thoughtfully, continuing then in more vivid pace as if shaking the numb off, - “but let’s turn back to the subject.”

Aerial shook his head; Starswirl nodded in approval; Ophane, who seemed to be in some kind of hibernate, attentively regarded Sunlight.

“So, ever since the first attempt, it was considered natural to associate advancing peaks of the superlight sine to the trailing peaks of the light sine. But lately, in some peculiar circumstances, I…” - he paused, concentrated on levitating sparks. They recomposed familiar graphs of two sine functions, one more stretched than another, - “I thought that we could try to apply a different kind of transformation. Let us imagine, that we were mistaken all along and the light is outrunning the superlight…”

“Impossible, “ - Ophane’s ghostly voice fell like an anvil upon Sunlight’s reasoning, - “when the light is being accelerated, its sine stretches approximately averagely, but the peak which indicated the current instant tends to slip in the positive direction, becoming future. So, practically, the superlight is a future.”

“That’s right, and I am not going to deny the fact. But I’m speaking about a thing more complex, more… precise. It is connected with a variety of subjects, from foreseeing to time-travelling…”

“What you’re talking about,” - Ophane stood up to fight, - “it is all theory, right? You have never attempted to do it and you don’t have any proofs.”

Subsequent Starswirl commentary, spoken in his usual heavy voice, added some authority to Sunlight.
“Actually, Flicker’s calculations were insanely accurate. They were what he was awarded for, after all,” - he sounded comically, though.

Ophane was confused for a second, I saw it. I guess, we all felt where the wind blew and what was about to happen. Now it was clear, that Sunlight initiated this conversation on purpose, and Ophane accidentally appeared to be defending a frontline. The last one, probably.

“At least, are you intending to present them to us?”

Sunlight smiled. Touché.
His grin was slightly sinister, devilish, and his face failed his name.
We were overlooking him in escalating despair. I felt my heartbeats, anticipating an unpleasant culmination. The silence arose, more intriguing than before.

Finally, he was done with the impression he made.

“There is an ending to my story. Since my last appointment with Starswirl, I was alone, working. I was gone from Canterlot, off to the countryside, where I possess a little family mansion. My saddlebags were tightly packed with paper and feathers, and the basement sure as the sun contained a hundred of wine barrels. So I spent there something about a week, nearly ran out of ink, but managed to transport all the thoughts from my head on the sheets.”

“What do you mean?” - Starswirl had a puzzled expression on his face, - “I thought, the theory that you presented to me the day that you gained your grade, was your final work.”

“I mean, I added a practical application of those calculations, which would allow to invert the phase of the superlight wave and complement its lower peak to sequent higher peak of the light, which, in turn, is…”

“Time-travel,” - Ophane was grim as a stormcloud.

“Exactly,” - fully opposite to Ophane, Sunlight shone with feverish joy.

“Stop now,” - Starswirl interrupted, realising his own partial participation in Sunlight’s crazy plan, - “haven’t those stories taught you something?” - he stood up, - “I will not let you do it.”

“Back on!” - Flicker dashed to the wall behind him, - “just think about it! This is the future, the future of magic science! We’ll shatter their imagination! Besides…” - he stressed out and frowned, - “you always can just shut it up in the secret branch of the royal library, whatever the result.”

“And you are going to attempt despite anything?” - I calmly asked, waving with my hoof at other ponies, who were suspiciously moving.

Flicker turned back and regarded the wall, lowered his head and sighed.

“I hope you don’t want to stop me.”

“I don’t, but you have to understand that I don’t support you either. I’m sorry to say that, but it seems to me that your young blood confused your mind. However, I’ve nothing to do with it; do what you desire, I have no right to hold an honored member of the Royal Academy.”

Flicker turned back to us, nodded and looked at others, questioning. Aerial, who might have seemed hesitating a minute ago, now only shrugged his shoulders in his usual indifferent manner. Ophane was nervously biting his lip - a rare behavior of him he used to display in moments of critical despair. Starswirl alone was calm and judicious like a sea cliff, challenging tidal waves.

“Go on,” - he said hoarsely, - “Inky is right, we have no right to stop you. Maybe, you are destined to make the greatest discovery of our history,” - he chuckled.

“I still have to disagree,” - Ophane was looking even comical in his unusual determination, - “it will end up bad not only for you… For the universe, too! Just… just think, what are you going to do? Invert the phase of a superlight beam? Synchronize frequencies, eh? How is it supposed to work? You what, become invisible?”

“Ophane,” - Sunlight frowned and his face regained an expression of universal sadness. He came closer to Wave and touched his hooves like a mother, seeing her son off, - “I do understand consequences. According to my calculations, my body and mind will be shifted from your world for a split second, and I will be seeing what you will be going to see in a blink of an eye. I will disappear for you, of course - but I’ll be here, in the nearest future. Chances are I’ll be able to return.”

Ophane sobbed, then blinked and nodded, approving the silent agreement.

Sunlight stepped back.

“And thus, I am going to attempt to succeed in using the spell that might change the future of magic science in presence of my four best friends and colleagues, with whom I will share its formula. In the worst case…” - his tongue slipped, - “they will be able to find it in my desk, in the second drawer, in the family mansion of Sunlights.”

He paused and inquiringly stared at us.

“I guess, it is all needed?”

“How will we find out that the experiment is successful and you are alright?”

Sunlight shrugged.

“I don’t know,’ - such sudden carelessness slightly discouraged me, - “I think I’ll find something to give you a sign.”
In an instant his horn began glowing. Deadly-pale yellow at first, the light then turned to carrot-orange and increased in brightness. As if hypnotized, we stared at him in childish wondering. His eyes were shut in concentration, and his body was scarcely seeming to tremble from tension.

Next second, and I saw him disappearing. His rear hooves were losing their shape like a sandstorm. Grain by grain, swallowed by empowering light and dissolving in the air - it was Sunlight, destructuring his body and composing spared twin-quantums, millions of them, so that they could transport him by a mean of a single stochastic stream. Flares of blue and orange were flowing into the rift, opened by a mad leap of a mind, blinded by perspective. Sunlight became a solid sandstone statue himself, entirely covered in shallow, but sharp and long cracks, like someone wanted to carve a figurine out of a desert.

Bit by bit, sandstorm reached his cutiemark, a red stellar parade, and now was advancing for the chest. He didn’t scream from pain, as I thought he would. His teeth were tightly shrinked, not a sound burst out.

The rest of the body was totally hidden by the whirling sand, savagely spinning around him, wrapped in shining blue linings. It was quickly moving towards yellow lightnings and winds of change, to the end of the spell structure. In no time the tempo of destructuring increased dramatically, all the fury of the sandstorm was pulled into rift and then the air went still. It became darker, the rift disappeared and familiar smell of ozone came.

We rested in the sudden hush for a moment, when a lightning strike bursted out of the clean air and hit the spot where Sunlight stood, blinding, deafening and immobilizing us for about a minute.

White screen temporarily shielded me from an instant shock that I expected, but was struck with nevertheless. When we regained ourselves, we discovered that Sunlight was gone, only scorched spot on the surface of the wooden floor indicated his former disposition.

Yes, it was over.

“What… what now?” - Aerial asked muffledly.

“I guess, we should wait,” - Starswirl scowlingly claimed, - “and hope for the best.”

I noted, though, that he was far from being hopeful. Frankly, we all had absolutely no delusions about the matter.

“Ten minutes, then,” - I stated, confident that nopony will contradict. None did.

“We will wait for ten minutes, accepting the experiment to be… failed, then.”

And so we waited, attentively beholding the room in feeble light of the dying fireplace. My look was gliding along the walls and oak panels, jumped from an item to another one. For myself and for convenience, I decided to scan the room from the most left corner that I could see to the most right. The clocks, the candle, the dresser, two chairs nearby the door. Rest tired eyes on the fire, and again, the clocks, the candle, the dresser…

Five minutes passed away in the grim silence and barely heard crackling of burning firewood.

I started my hundredth regarding cycle or so. But suddenly I caught myself on the fact that I exercised a different order this time. A thought came to my exhausted mind: for some reason, I was counting the candle as a second item in a row after the watches all the way, despite it was standing from the left.

“Six minutes past,” - Aerial announced, - “and I’m freezing, by the way.”

“The door is open,” - Starswirl muttered, more for himself, rather than to indicate the reason of Aerial’s discomfort.

“Inky, you were the last to come in,” - Aerial accusedly pointed his hoof at me, - “and you forgot to close the door.”

“No, I didn’t,” - I remembered the fact with impeccable accuracy.

We rested in silence.

“Ah, whatever. Time’s up anyway. I’m out. Sorry, party, I think, Sunlight’s not going back,” - I was sure that Aerial held sadness in the deepness of his soul, saying this, trying to be indifferent.

“Agreed,” - Ophane stood up, too. They walked on to the door, waved at us and disappeared in the dark corridor - too quickly to say goodbye properly. They didn’t close the door, now it was calling us to leave as soon as possible, and both of us - Starswirl and I - felt like it was a good idea. He got up on his hooves when I turned to him.

“Well, it’s over,” - he returned me my look with expression of sorrow. I moved my eyes away.

“You know, what I think, he must have just teleported away and left some kind of fireworks spell on departure, just to make fun of us, eh?”

Surprised and puzzled by such change of theme, I regarded him and saw a pale smile through his beard.

“Well, at least, I would like to hope so.”

I understood then, that he was kidding and chuckled.

“So, I will see you next week?”

“Most probably, but I don’t promise. After all, we are now in the list of Sunlight Flicker’s heirs. However, I’m saying to you a good goodbye.”

“Farewell.”

And he followed others. The handle of the door glowed blue for an instant - Starswirl opened it and froze in the aperture.
“I understand now, why Ether wasn’t eager to continue their research. And, probably, why he wasn’t here today. Maybe, he knew, that experiment would be successful. Or know.”

When I realized what he was hinting on, he was already gone, door shut behind him. I flinched and began to pack up.

I momentarily stood and calmly stepped towards the fireplace. The fire was almost gone, only embers indicated the logical end of not feeding the flame. I reached out for a poker and stirred the coals up, waited until they burnt out and illuminated my horn. In a feeble pink light I looked around the room once more - and for the last time.

Most likely, we were not going to gather here anymore - it was some kind of tradition, no resemblance to sorrowful places. But personal things still deserved to be taken.

I reached out for the dresser in the farthest corner and opened it with magic. Empty. Right.

Finally, I was finished. The room was empty, just in the same circumstances as it was when we rented it. In the obscure pink light I made my way through the open door, carefully closing it behind. I passed the dusty corridor and descended to the first floor. The hall was empty already. I nodded at the bartender and he returned the nod.

I left the inn and never heard from Sunlight again.

Author's Note

Dues to Herbert Wells