Twilight grit her teeth and growled in frustration. She had her wings stuck together by a huge wad of chewing gum, and she struggled helplessly as Starlight Glimmer cast another spell. Off in the distance, she could see the spell strike home, veering the young Rainbow Dash off the racetrack and into a cloud. Twilight’s growl turned into a shout.
“Aw, too bad, Princess Twilight,” Starlight teased. “Better luck next time!” She smirked and waved goodbye.
“You have to stop doing this, Starlight, it’s—” The goop dissolved from her wings, and she felt herself pulled upwards, back through the swirling vortex of time. Space distorted around her, crossing and re-crossing her vision. She squeezed her eyes shut and held onto Spike as she was flung forward, back through time, off toward an uncertain present.
The pressure in her ears popped, and she flopped down on the cutie map, feeling the air rush out of her lungs. She rolled over onto her back and groaned.
“Ugh,” Spike grunted, climbing out from under Twilight. “This is getting really old. What do you think’s different now?”
Twilight huffed and waved her hooves in the air. “Does it even matter anymore? Each new version is worse than the one before! Maybe this time everypony’s on fire, or all the birds have been replaced by snakes, or, or…or Equestria is one, giant quesadilla!”
“Well, it can’t be that bad, becau—quesadilla?”
Twilight sat up and rubbed her face. “It could happen,” she muttered. She stared off into the empty field in front of her. Birds flitted through the air and nothing was on fire at least, and the ground looked rather grassy to be made of cheese. She sighed and shook her head. “Whatever there is, it’s probably awful.” A wave of dread hit her as she said it. She’d lost count of how many times they’d tried to stop Starlight, how much more broken and fractured the world became with each attempt. She didn’t know how many more tries she had left while still having anything at all to come back to. She took a deep breath and looked over at Spike.
Spike stood next to her on the table, frowning off in the distance directly behind her. “Can’t be that bad,” he said. “We’re still in Ponyville.”
Twilight turned around and looked. The outskirts of Ponyville stood in front of her, the exact same view she had from the front door of her castle. She raised her eyebrows and looked around for something wrong, but no smoke poured from wartime factories, no sounds of machinery filled the air, no screams or cries of suffering. Twilight stood up and hopped down into the grass, then turned and looked at the map.
“The Crystal Empire’s still here!” Spike said, raising his foot off the magical illusion of the crystal castle. “And so is Canterlot!”
Twilight nodded, her eyes running over the familiar landmarks. Manehattan, Fillydelphia, and Las Pegasus glittered right where they were supposed to be, connected by railroads through the expansive, serene countryside. Ghastly Gorge, Appleloosa, Cloudsdale, Neighagra Falls, even Our Town, Starlight’s tiny village, remained in place. The only difference she could find was in Ponyville, as she stood on the spot where her castle was supposed to be.
She pressed her lips together and leaned in close over Ponyville. “Do you see anything different, Spike?”
Spike leaned over and bumped heads with her. “Oops. No, no, everything looks the same here. There’s Carousel Boutique.”
“And there’s Sweet Apple Acres.”
“And Fluttershy’s cottage, and it even has Rainbow Dash’s cloud house!” Spike poked at Rainbow’s roof, his claw passing through the illusion.
“And there’s Town Hall, still in need of repairs, the marketplace and Sugarcube Corner, and …” Twilight’s eyes widened. “And the library!” she said, bouncing up. “It’s still there!” A wave of warm nostalgia wrapped around Twilight like a blanket as she looked down at the little image of the tree. When she squinted, she could see her telescope sitting out on the balcony. “Let’s go, Spike, we’ll be able to find out what’s going on there.” She straightened from the table and set off toward the town.
“Wait,” Spike called, hopping down and hurrying to follow. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Of course it is! Libraries are the best places to look when you want to find something out, we’ll figure out what’s changed in no time there. And plus, you know …”
He sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I miss it, too. But are you sure it’s a good idea? We might run into you there.”
Twilight stopped and raised her eyebrows. Spike stuttered to a halt, then turned to face her, frowning in concern. Twilight knit her brow and rubbed her chin. “That’s a good point, it is the most likely place I would be if I were here. And we haven’t run into me in any of these alternate realities yet, so we don’t know what would happen …”
Spike crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes in distrust. “It’s pretty weird, isn’t it? We’ve seen everypony else, but not you, and not me.”
“It isn’t that unusual,” Twilight mused, tapping her chin. “It just means I never came to Ponyville, and you never came with me. And if I didn’t get my cutie mark when I did, I’m not sure I would have a reason to come here. There probably was a Twilight in each of those other realities, but she was still living in Canterlot.” Twilight bit her tongue, opting not to say that if she didn’t get her cutie mark when she did, Spike might not have ever been born.
“I guess, but we know Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash didn’t grow up here, either!”
With a nod, Twilight said, “Right, and they haven’t always been around in these realities.”
“But they haven’t always not been around, either. It’s just weird, right?” Spike shrugged and gestured at the air.
Twilight pressed her lips together and looked around them. A scattering of shops and homes just at the edge of Ponyville stood quiet, but not empty, and she could see ponies a couple streets down milling about their day. “I suppose it is strange,” she mused. “There’s the possibility that two Twilights—or two Spikes—can’t exist at the same time. Then again, I did try to go back in time and warn myself not to waste my time trying to figure out what I was warning myself about.” Her frown deepened. “But while that time-travel spell was the same base spell as this one, this one clearly works a lot differently. The rules might have changed …”
“And plus, maybe if you did meet yourself, something really bad would happen! Like, you explode, or the other Twilight who isn’t expecting it might freak out!”
She gave Spike a level look. “I am the same pony who talked over my future self trying to warn me about something because I was curious, Spike.”
“Okay, bad example.”
She rubbed her chin and narrowed her eyes, staring off in front of them. “… When Rainbow Dash got her cutie mark—when she was supposed to get it, I mean—I, and more importantly Starlight, were both definitely alive and in other places. If the spell doesn’t allow for two versions of the same pony to exist at the same time, Starlight wouldn’t have risked going back to a time when she was already alive, she would have tried to influence things earlier.”
Spike frowned and scratched his head. “Okay.”
“Which means that the spell must be safe. It makes sense. The underlying spell was only supposed to travel back a week into the past, so it had to be safe. But then again, it was safe because you couldn’t actually change anything, your journey back is already written into the tapestry of time before you take it. Starlight is changing things. Maybe she was willing to take the risk of erasing herself because she hadn’t considered it as a possibility.”
His eyes widened, and Spike grabbed Twilight’s shoulder. “Twilight, we haven’t been in a different version of now where Starlight won! Maybe that can’t happen because when she went back to stop Rainbow Dash from Sonic Rainbooming, the younger version of herself disappeared, never grew up, and never decided to try and steal all the cutie marks in Equestria! Maybe you both did erase yourselves!” His eyes widened more, and he stepped back, stricken. “Maybe I erased myself, too!”
A shiver of panic wormed up Twilight’s spine, then she frowned, breathed out a sigh of relief, and set her hoof on Spike’s shoulder. “That can’t be it, Spike, we both saw the cutie map. This version of reality has Our Town. If she never grew up …”
Realization hit Spike and he relaxed, sagging his shoulders. “She never would have founded Our Town. Whew!” He gave Twilight a guilty smile and fiddled his claws together. “Sorry, Twilight, guess I was getting carried away.”
She smiled, patted his shoulder, then turned back towards town. “It’s fine, Spike, I’m glad you did. If you hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have thought about Our Town being here, and the implications of that. With this spell, two versions of a pony must be able to exist at once. Come on, let’s go to the library.” She stepped forward and fell into a brisk pace.
Spike hurried to keep up. “But what if you’re already there, and being close makes you blow up or something?”
Twilight giggled and shook her head. “Why the heck do you even think there’s a chance of that happening?”
“Well, uh … there’s … this … comic …”
She sighed and shook her head. “We’re not made of anti-matter compared to this reality, Spike. If we were, we would have already exploded.” She frowned in thought as they crossed into the marketplace, earning a few odd looks and whispers from the ponies on the street. Her frown turned into one of confusion, then she pushed them out of mind and regained her train of thought. “I think whatever that glowing effect that that one version of Zecora discovered about us in the Changeling World must be protecting us from paradoxes and other inconsistencies of time. Honestly, this spell is fascinating, and under better circumstances, I’d want to study it in depth.”
“Uh huh,” Spike said, his tone flat and bored. “Hey, look, there it is!”
Twilight’s mind came back from up in the clouds as Golden Oaks Library came into view. She smiled helplessly, feeling her eyes warm up. Everything looked exactly like she remembered. From the beehive, to her telescope, to the lit candle carved into the door, there wasn’t a leaf out of place. “We’re home,” she murmured to herself, then raced up to the door.
She pulled up short with her hoof on the handle and wavered in place with indecision. After a moment, she knocked. The red door felt warm to the touch, and it gave a little in its frame, rattling back and forth a bare few millimeters exactly as it always did. Twilight didn’t know the logistics of hugging a door, but she really wanted to find out.
Spike sidled up beside her, waited a moment, then rapped his fist on the wood. “That’s weird.” He raised his voice. “Anypony home?”
Twilight frowned, then stepped off the welcome mat and over to the bushes in front of a window. She squinted against the glare off the glass and craned over to get a good look inside.
The door popped open, and Twilight heard a very familiar, very distracted voice. “Sorry! Sorry, I was running an experiment down in the basement and … Spike? What are you doing up here? Weren’t you just …”
Twilight stepped back to the front door and gave herself a guilty smile.
The Twilight in the door opened her eyes wide and her jaw fell slack. “Down … stairs …” she trailed off weakly.
“Um. Hi,” Twilight said. She gave the other Twilight a look over. She would have thought of the other version of herself as her doppelganger, but she knew immediately that they weren’t close enough for that to be accurate. Her not-doppelganger stood a few inches shorter than her, both at the top of the head and the shoulder, and the sides of her body were flat and smooth. The other Twilight was still a unicorn. “We’re, uh, not changelings, if you were worried about that,” Twilight said.
The unicorn Twilight’s brow drew together the barest amount. She asked, “What’s a changeling?”
Twilight pressed her lips together and shuffled her hooves back and forth. “I think we need to talk.”
Unicorn Twilight shook her head to clear it, and a rush of manic energy leapt into her expression. “You’re telling me!” She bounced outside and circled Twilight. “You look just like me! But you’re an alicorn. Why are you an alicorn? How are you an alicorn? Are you me from the future? Why is your cutie mark different?”
Twilight’s vague amusement at herself evaporated, and her eyes jumped down to unicorn Twilight’s flank.
“It has the same six-pointed pink star, but yours has these extra white stars. Is that something that happens when you become an alicorn? Did it hurt to become an alicorn? You weren’t born an alicorn and we happen to look exactly alike, right? You’re not me from an alternate reality, are you?”
“Yes,” she said sharply, cutting through the stream of questions. “We’re from an alternate reality.”
“That is fascinating,” the unicorn Twilight said. “I can run so many tests! We can run so many tests!” She clapped her hooves together and grinned. “We can definitively prove or disprove multiverse theory! I’ve always thought it couldn’t work, based on how Starswirl the Bearded’s time travel magic appears to function, but this throws all that out the window, and—”
“Twilight,” Spike cut in.
“Yes, Spike?” said both Twilights at once, then looked at each other and gave the same nervous chuckle.
“My Twilight,” Spike clarified. “The one with the wings and…you know, this is gonna get really confusing, so I’m gonna call you Twilight A,” he said, pointing at the unicorn Twilight, “and you Twilight B.”
Twilight B frowned. “But we’re from the same reality, Spike, why is she Twilight A?”
He shrugged. “It’s her universe, I figured she gets dibs.”
Twilight B opened her mouth to object, then frowned again and looked at Twilight A.
Twilight A gave a weak chuckle again. “I don’t mind being Twilight B if it’s important.”
Twilight B sighed and rubbed her forehead. “It isn’t, and I’m very annoyed at how easy it was for me to start thinking of you as Twilight ‘A’ and myself as Twilight ‘B.’”
“You, too?” Twilight A rubbed her chin and narrowed her eyes for a moment. “Hey, if you’re an alicorn, does that make you a princess in your reality?” Twilight B nodded. “Then how about you be Princess Twilight and I’ll be Librarian Twilight. Does that work?” Her eyes widened in realization. “Wait, I’m a princess in another reality!?”
Princess Twilight raised her hoof to and opened her mouth to cut off the incoming flurry of questions, when Spike shouted, “Twilight! Who’s at the door!? Applejack wants to know if we should come up!” The voice came muffled and from far away. Princess Twilight started and glanced at her version of Spike standing next to her on the welcome mat, then inside the library.
Librarian Twilight drooped her ears, looking at Spike and Princess Twilight with a guilty grin. “Maybe we should go inside.” She slipped past them and pushed open the front door the rest of the way. “And maybe I should go and warn them first, I don’t know how they’d—”
Over Librarian Twilight’s shoulder, the door down to the basement swung open and Spike stepped into the main room of the library, holding a piece of parchment and taking notes, barely watching where he was going. “Do we need to stop for the day? You told me to warn you when it’s been five minutes. Should I stir it or …” He glanced up from the parchment and locked eyes with the Spike next to Twilight.
“Whoa,” they both said at the same time. The Spike inside dropped the parchment and stepped on it as he rushed to the door, stopping just in front of his actual perfect doppelganger. They stared for a few moments, then both reached out and poked the other in the eye, crying out, “Hey!” in unison.
“Spike!” both Twilights admonished.
“What?” they said, turning and shrugging at the same time. “I didn’t think he’d do it too!”
“I think I have a headache,” muttered Librarian Twilight.
Princess Twilight sighed. Both Spikes had gone back to making faces and waving at each other. It looked like they were standing in front of a mirror. “I know I have one.”
Applejack’s voice carried from inside the library. “I really need to be gettin’ back to the farm, Twi. Is there somethin’ goin’ on, or should I …” She rounded the staircase and her voice died in her throat. She walked silently to the gathered group, her eyes darting from the Spikes, to Librarian Twilight, to Princess Twilight, and back. She stopped and directed her attention to Librarian Twilight. “Clones, monsters, or magic?”
“Magic, I think,” she answered. “The accidental kind, not the dark. I don’t believe they’re dangerous.”
“They could be dangerous?” asked the Spike still inside the door—Librarian Spike, Princess Twilight decided to herself. “They seem fine.” He turned back around, pulled down one eyelid, and stuck out his tongue, perfectly in sync with the other Spike.
Princess Twilight hoped silently that she wouldn’t have to tell her Spike that he was Princess Spike.
Librarian Twilight huffed. “That’s what I just said, Spike.”
“What’s that about me?” asked Princess Spike.
Applejack rubbed her forehead with a hoof. “All right, enough’a that. Spike. Not you, my Spike, but be payin’ attention, other Spike. Weren’t you busy sayin’ you need an extra hoof with that soapbox racer, but not help, ‘cause ya wanna do it yourself? This is your chance!”
Librarian Spike’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, you’re right! Come on!” He grabbed Princess Spike’s shoulder and started pushing him around the side of the library.
“Soapbox racer?” Princess Spike mumbled.
“It’s really cool! You’ll love it! Trust me.”
As the two disappeared to the backyard of the library, Applejack dusted her hooves off against each other. “There, now the adults can talk. I’mma go put a kettle on, okay, sugar?”
“Thank you,” Librarian Twilight said gratefully, then turned back to Princess Twilight once they were alone. She flinched and shook her head. “Sorry, sorry! Where are my manners? You should come in!” She crossed back inside the library and headed towards the kitchen. She slowed and raised an eyebrow as she watched Princess Twilight step inside.
Princess Twilight felt the smooth, warm, creaky floorboards underhoof. A lot of traffic came across the entryway, and the wood felt softer there than anywhere else in the tree. The large bust in the reading area stared back at her as her eyes swept around the room, over shelf after shelf of books. The smell of dusty paper and sap was overwhelming, sending a shiver of nostalgia up her spine, flooding her head with years and years of memories at once, almost staggering her. She felt her eyes water.
“Is … something wrong?” asked Librarian Twilight.
“No.” She frowned to herself. “Yes. It’s a complex situation. I’m just … it’s been a long time since I’ve been here.” She felt her hooves shake, and she bit back the desire to cry, or laugh, or laugh until she cried. Maybe even cry until she laughed. She took a deep breath. It smelled like books. “I miss this place.”
“What happened …” Librarian Twilight snapped her mouth shut and shook her head. “That is not the most pressing question at the moment.”
The kettle’s whistle wound through the air, and Princess Twilight steeled herself to follow Librarian Twilight into the kitchen. She stood awkwardly as Librarian Twilight took the seat that she always took at the table, and watched Applejack pour out three cups of tea. She took her seat across from Librarian Twilight in the open chair facing the cupboards, the one usually reserved for guests. She supposed it was appropriate.
“So—” Librarian Twilight started, but Princess Twilight held up a hoof.
“I know you have a lot of questions for me, and I’ll do my best to answer them, but let me ask you something first. The answer might be able to explain more to me about the difference between your reality and mine than trying to answer your questions first would.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow at Librarian Twilight. “Your reality?”
“She means our reality, AJ. The one we’re in right now. She’s from a different one.” Her eyes lit up. “Different, as you can tell by her being an alicorn princess, possibly due to the smallest of changes. One slightly different decision made could have had a knock-on effect that cascaded across all of Equestria, like somepony in Baltimare stepping on a butterfly and causing a storm in Las Pegasus that stopped a race from happening which somepony bet on and—”
Princess Twilight tried not to smile at the growing look of confusion on Applejack’s face. She cleared her throat, and Librarian Twilight snapped her mouth shut and chuckled nervously. “Sorry, multiverse theory is a pet project of mine.”
Princess Twilight shifted in her seat as her thoughts wandered back over her life. She remembered taking a real shine to multiverse theory as a student, and being disappointed when she’d read through Starswirl’s research, which shattered the whole concept. Whatever path Starlight’s changes had set in motion in Librarian Twilight’s version of reality, one of the results was this Twilight not reading through that research, or not investigating it rigorously enough to come to the same conclusions. That meant she certainly hadn’t gone back a week in the past to warn herself not to bother going back a week in the past, which was probably a positive for Librarian Twilight’s self-image if nothing else. It did make Princess Twilight wonder why she hadn’t gone through Starswirl’s notes thoroughly if it was a pet project.
She pushed away her musing and refocused. “I know what key event is different between our realities, but I don’t know how it’s different, and how its difference changed things, which leads me to the question of … how did you get your cutie mark?”
Librarian Twilight raised her eyebrows and exchanged a look with Applejack. “Are you saying you became an alicorn from when you got your cutie mark?”
“No. Well … it … sort of set things in motion, in a way.” She gave a strained smile. “It’s complicated. What happened for you?”
“Well, um …” Librarian Twilight shifted back and forth in her seat, then drew up her mug of tea and took a long sip. “Does … Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns exist in your reality?”
Princess Twilight sighed inwardly. “Yes. Believe me, I very much understand that you don’t want to make any base assumptions about my prior knowledge, but I promise, if something isn’t familiar, I’ll ask about it.”
Librarian Twilight visibly relaxed, sinking into her chair. “Okay. So I went into my audition test for school, and I was really nervous.” Princess Twilight gave a knowing smile and nodded. “I’d spent weeks and weeks practicing, but it was always in my room by myself, I’d never tried to do anything with a crowd of severe, judgmental adults watching me do it. I had to hatch an egg—Spike’s egg, in fact—and I tried multiple times, getting more and more nervous, watching those adults write down notes until I gave up. I told them I was sorry for wasting their time.” Librarian Twilight sunk in on herself a little, drooping her ears and staring at her tea.
Princess Twilight nodded again with understanding, her smile gone. “So far it’s identical to my experience.” Librarian Twilight gave her a soft smile and straightened up. Princess Twilight’s mind played back through the distant sonic rainboom, something that she knew for a fact hadn’t happened in that reality. “What happened next?”
“Well … I started to leave when one of the judges cleared his throat. He told me that it was okay to be nervous and that lots of fillies get frightened trying to do magic in a classroom away from home. He asked me my name, and about my family, and got me talking about my brother. It made me realize they weren’t a bunch of scary adults, but just teachers who wanted to help foals grow and learn.”
“… Huh,” Princess Twilight said.
“So … after I’d calmed down, I tried again, and Spike hatched out of the egg right away. I was so excited that the teachers told me I’d gotten in, that I didn’t even notice that I’d gotten my cutie mark until mom pointed it out to me.”
Twilight rubbed her face with a hoof, leaning back in the chair. She took a long sip from her tea. “Interesting …”
Librarian Twilight cocked her head to the side and studied Princess Twilight’s expression. “Did it happen differently for you?”
“Yes.” She took a longer sip of tea. “Have you … ever met Princess Celestia?”
“Oh, of course. She was on campus at least once a week. She gave speeches of encouragement and met with everypony at least once to talk about their future and offer career advice. It was really exciting.” Librarian Twilight’s grin of nostalgia faded, and she gave Princess Twilight a measured expression again. “That … wasn’t actually what you were asking me, though, was it?”
“I’ll explain in a moment.” She shifted her attention to Applejack and dropped her gaze to Applejack’s cutie mark. Three apples clustered on Applejack’s flank right where they were supposed to be, but each apple had a slice missing. “How about you, AJ? How did you get your cutie mark?”
Applejack faltered with her cup of tea and set it down on the table. “Me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Thought this was about y’alls cutie marks, what’s mine gotta do with it?”
“I’ll also explain that in a moment.”
She knit her brow for a second, then shrugged. “Well, uh … I was livin’ with my aunt and uncle, but I’m guessin’ you already know all’a that part.” Princess Twilight nodded, and Applejack sat up straighter. “I was havin’ an okay go of it, tryin’ to fit in with them big city types, but it was wearin’ me down some. I remember lookin’ out the window one day, feelin’ pretty down, tryin’ to figure out where Ponyville was in the distance.”
Princess Twilight nodded, frowning to herself, knowing that the rainbow that was supposed to light Applejack’s way home never came.
“And somethin’ about sittin’ there, hopin’ I could see Ponyvile made me realize I was feelin’ down ‘cause I was tryin’ to be somepony I wasn’t. Lot of it was fun there, and Aunt n’ Uncle Orange were awful nice to me, but who I was was a farm pony. I told ‘em both thanks, and then I went home. When I got back to the farm, hugged Mac and Granny, and really felt like I was where I was supposed to be, I got my cutie mark.”
“Very interesting …” Princess Twilight muttered. “It’s all so similar, but still so different.” She leaned forward, frowning down at her tea, letting her mind work through her own life, trying to fit Librarian Twilight’s oddly shaped puzzle piece into the familiar gaps in hers. “… What brought you to Ponyville? I’m guessing we both had the same life before school, and our family’s back in Canterlot.”
“Well,” Librarian Twilight said, flashing a smile at Applejack for a moment, “I’d just graduated and—”
Princess Twilight blurted out, “Wait, you graduated?” making Librarian Twilight falter.
“Did … didn’t you?”
She rubbed her forehead and sighed. “That is also complicated. Sorry, go on.”
An awkward pause full of Applejack and Librarian Twilight exchanging looks of confusion passed, and Librarian Twilight kept going like there wasn’t an interruption. “I’d just graduated and wasn’t sure what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go. I’d gotten good grades, but I never did very well on practical tests, I always had trouble controlling my magic. I’m sure you remember that too, where sometimes a spell worked fine, and other times it went haywire and something blew up or caught on fire. That kind of limited me to research and academic jobs.”
Princess Twilight nodded, keeping her expression neutral.
“Anyway, I talked it over with mom, dad, and Shining, and decided to take a trip around Equestria before making any career decisions. And it just so happened to be a few days before the Summer Sun Celebration, and it was happening in Ponyville of all places, so I decided to start my trip there. And, well …” She smiled at Applejack, who smiled back.
Princess Twilight smiled herself. “And that’s when Nightmare Moon came back?”
The two of them faltered and looked at her. “Who’s Nightmare Moon?” they both asked.
Princess Twilight’s jaw fell open.
“Hey, wait a minute,” Applejack said, jabbing Librarian Twilight in the shoulder. “Ain’t that the name’a Princess Luna from when she was on the moon?”
“Oh, that’s right!” She chuckled. “I’d forgotten it.” She raised an eyebrow and looked at Princess Twilight. “What does Princess Luna have to do with anything?”
“That’s when …” She frowned and fell back in her chair. “When did Princess Luna return for you?”
Librarian Twilight and Applejack exchanged looks again, both of them frowning in thought. “Uh,” Applejack mumbled, “I don’t really remember. Happened when we were still fillies sometime.”
Librarian Twilight nodded. “I was in school. A lot of my classmates were excited to have classes canceled when the sun didn’t rise, but I didn’t get to give my report on transfiguration potions.”
Leaning back in her seat and shaking her head slowly, Twilight downed the rest of her tea. “Wow. What happened?”
Librarian Twilight cocked her head to the side. “Princess Celestia won, of course. If I remember right, the official story she gave the newspapers was that she used the same weapon that had banished Princess Luna to the moon in the first place, but that this time around she was prepared for it and used the weapon with more hope in her heart. Instead of banishing Princess Luna again, it destroyed the evil that had cursed her into becoming Nightmare Moon.” She took a sip of her tea. “That’s the official story, anyway, I’m sure it was more complicated than that.”
It felt like Princess Twilight’s head might split open just from all the different questions she had over the logistics of Princess Luna coming back early and being saved by Celestia on her own, but she shoved them back and tried to focus. Those idiosyncrasies were important for understanding the true differences between her reality and the one she was in, but she couldn’t let herself get sidetracked going through the minor details. “Okay, so if it wasn’t Nightmare Moon interrupting the Summer Sun Celebration, what did happen that convinced you to stay here?”
Librarian Twilight smiled and put her hoof over Applejack’s. “Well, I met my wife, of course.”
“You what!?” Both of them flinched at Princess Twilight’s outburst, then Applejack started snickering at her expression. Princess Twilight looked between one, then the other, feeling heat rise to her face, and forced herself to sit back and breathe. “… You … two … are …?”
“Are you …?” Librarian Twilight frowned at Applejack’s snickers and jostled her shoulder. “I suppose being a princess would make it more difficult to plan a wedding. Don’t worry, we haven’t been married for that long, I’m sure you and your Applejack aren’t that far behind.”
“I …” Princess Twilight rubbed her face, hoping to dispel some of the heat from her cheeks. She tried to find the thread of conversation and figure out how to move on to the next part, but she couldn’t. All of her other thoughts had been pushed out of her head. “You’re married?”
“Applejack, honestly, you don’t need to laugh at her,” Librarian Twilight admonished. “It’s a big step! We dated for years before you proposed.”
“Twi, sugar, look at her face, she ain’t even datin’ her Applejack,” she said between swallowed laughs. “You done just walloped her upside the head with us bein’ a thing, like you were beatin’ her with a two by four.”
Librarian Twilight’s eyes widened and she looked at Princess Twilight, then sucked in air through her teeth. “Oh, dear.”
“I’m okay,” Princess Twilight struggled out, forcing a smile. “It just took me by surprise.”
“You’re really not together with Applejack in your reality? Because it only took one night getting to know her and eating her cooking for me to decide I was moving to Ponyville.”
“My first night getting to know Applejack was rather distracting,” Princess Twilight said, still looking back and forth between the two. She took a steadying breath, and forced her brain to start thinking again. “Okay, so … you came for the Summer Sun Celebration, and you met Applejack.”
Applejack smiled. “That she did. ‘Course, might be more that I spotted her, n’ then kept givin’ her as much’a my cookin’ as I could. Way to a mare’s heart’s through her stomach.”
Princess Twilight stared ahead and tried not to think about how her Applejack had done the same thing with her when they met.
“I ate way too much,” Librarian Twilight said with a giggle. “We then started talking. There were a lot of all-night parties going on in town, but that sort of thing wasn’t really appealing to either of us. We went up into the orchard with my telescope and spent all night looking at the stars.”
Applejack’s amusement slowly changed to warm wistfulness at Librarian Twilight spoke. She put her hoof over Twilight’s and squeezed. “That night I found out that not only were you the cutest mare I’d ever met, you were the smartest.”
Librarian Twilight rolled her eyes and smiled.
“Plus that you were sweet, and learnin’ new things got you excited, and that you weren’t somepony who’d ever had a lot of friends or knew how to make ‘em well, but that deep down you were starvin’ for ‘em, and that if I put in the extra effort to help ya with that, that I’d be gainin’ the best friend anypony in the world could ever ask for.”
Librarian Twilight’s smile turned more genuine, and she nuzzled Applejack’s cheek. “Meanwhile, I found out that I always had butterflies in my stomach when I was around you, that when we talked you didn’t make me feel nervous and awkward like I did with almost everypony else, and that if I didn’t stick around to try and understand what was going on between me and you that I’d regret it for the rest of my life, but your version’s more poetic.” She turned her attention back to Princess Twilight, who stared at them in silence. “After the celebration itself, I found out that this library had been closed for a few months without a librarian on staff, so I applied for the job and got accepted immediately. I’ve never looked back.”
Princess Twilight tried to pull her thoughts together, only managing to sit up straighter. “That is … an extremely different series of events from why I moved to Ponyville, but … in a certain way, it was for similar reasons …” She rubbed her mouth and stared at the mug of tea. “Who in town would you consider friends?” They both frowned, and she went on. “And I don’t mean that you’re just friendly with them, I’m aware that would be everypony in town, I mean the ponies you would consider your closest friends.”
They exchanged a look, and Librarian Twilight smiled. “Well, Rainbow Dash, obviously. You two have been friends since longer than I’ve known either of you.”
Applejack chuckled and nodded, then turned to Princess Twilight. “She’s a weather pony from Cloudsdale who … you … you already know who she is, I’m guessin’.”
Princess Twilight grinned and nodded. “I know who she is in my reality, though there are probably some differences, the same as me and your Twilight.” Her smile faded and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Though you don’t seem to be that different from my Applejack.”
With a shrug and a smile, Applejack said. “I’m real stubborn. Anyway, me and Rainbow go way back since she moved here. We got this competition thing goin’ on, ‘specially these last couple years. I’m up four to three on runnin’ of the leaves.”
Librarian Twilight rolled her eyes. “You mean you’re tied three to three, and I won one.”
“That one don’t count like that, Twi.”
Princess Twilight covered her mouth to try and hold in her giggles and failed miserably. The two gave her confused looks and she waved them off. “Nothing, nothing. Are you friends with Rainbow Dash, too, Twilight, or is she more Applejack’s friend?”
Librarian Twilight rubbed her chin. “It was probably like that at the start. Rainbow and I don’t have that much in common. When I found out she likes Daring Do as much as I do, it was a lot easier to spend time with her, though. I’d say we’re all good friends now.”
Princess Twilight nodded. “Anypony else?”
With a grin, Applejack prodded Librarian Twilight. “Rarity, obviously.” She got an eyeroll and a smile from Librarian Twilight and she chuckled. “Rarity’s, uh … still a fashion designer?” She searched Princess Twilight’s face for confirmation, then relaxed when Twilight nodded. “Me and her go way back, too, further’n me and Rainbow since we went to school together, but we ain’t been so good’a friends. We ain’t been enemies or nothin’, we’re just real different.”
“Hm.” Princess Twilight poked at her mug, looking down at the table.
“Oh, stop,” Librarian Twilight said, “you’re friends now.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Applejack said, chuckling, “it’s just funny’s all. Me n’ her’ve lived in Ponyville our whole lives and never said two words to each other, and then you go into her shop wantin’ to buy a dress for a date with me, ‘n suddenly she’s draggin’ me to the spa every couple’a weeks. This is all your fault, Twi.”
Princess Twilight stared at them in confusion. Librarian Twilight laughed and shook her head, then caught sight of Princess Twilight. “Sorry, this is a fake fight we have whenever Rarity annoys AJ, she blames me for them knowing each other.” She rolled her eyes again and squeezed Applejack’s hoof. “I met Rarity while buying a dress. She’s a very warm and giving pony, and Spike is very fond of her, so we became friends pretty quickly.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Applejack said in an exaggerated tone of defeat. “And once I got to know her some, I saw how dang nice she is, too. We don’t see everythin’ eye to eye, but she’s got a real good heart. I don’t blame ya for makin’ me friends with her.” She winked at Librarian Twilight. “Much.”
Tapping her chin, Librarian Twilight returned her attention to Princess Twilight. “There’s also Fluttershy. She’s—”
“Quiet, lives near the forest, and takes care of animals?” Princess Twilight interjected.
“That’s the one. I met her because she took an interest in Spike, because she’d never met a baby dragon. Took a little while to get her out of her shell, but she’s been a good friend to both of us.”
“Always lendin’ a hoof with the critters on the farm, too.” Applejack turned and smiled at Librarian Twilight. “We got a pretty dang good group of friends.”
Librarian Twilight smiled and nodded. “It’s so funny to think back to what I was like when I was in school. I was always wrapped up in studying, I never seemed to find time for friends. I wasn’t even really sure what they were for, I guess. All it took was moving here and meeting you to figure that out.”
Princess Twilight’s stomach twisted with discomfort and she braced her hooves on the table. The portrait had been painted so neatly, reflecting her own reality back at her, save for one, giant, glaring hole. She didn’t quite understand why it bothered her so much, but she decided to lean into the unease rather than trying to examine it. “Is that all of them?”
Librarian Twilight frowned. “Well … there’s Pinkie Pie.” She looked at Applejack. “Does Pinkie Pie count?”
“I … ain’t so sure. She’s friends with the whole dang town.”
“Yeah, but,” Librarian Twilight huffed through her snout, frowning in thought. “She’s still always planning all of our birthday parties, and she’s always there when we’re going out somewhere as a group.”
“She plans birthday parties for everypony, n’ hangs out with everypony all the time, too.” Applejack shrugged. “I ain’t sayin’ she ain’t great and all, ‘cause she is, I just ain’t sure she’s a close friend.”
Librarian Twilight rubbed her chin. “Think of it this way, AJ. When we were sending out wedding invitations, did we invite her specifically?”
“Well, I’d hope so, she was the one in charge of sendin’ ‘em all—okay, yeah, you’re right, she counts.” Applejack chuckled at herself then looked at Princess Twilight. “So that’s Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie. Does that give ya the answer to what you’re diggin’ at?”
She let out a long breath and shook her head in disbelief. She leaned back in her chair. “Despite everything, despite all the changes … it still happened,” she muttered to herself.
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Whazzat?”
Princess Twilight knit her brow and looked at Librarian Twilight. She set her hoof down flat on the table. “You said earlier that you’ve never heard of changelings.”
The two exchanged a look, then frowned at her. Librarian Twilight cleared her throat. “Should we have?”
“What was Shining’s wedding like?”
Librarian Twilight’s confusion deepened, and she rubbed her cheek. “Well, um … I was pretty surprised when I got my invitation, because I didn’t know he was even in a serious relationship, and it kind of hurt my feelings at first.” Her frown turned to a smile. “Then when I got to Canterlot, I discovered it was Cadence. I ran up and sang Sunshine Sunshine with her, and she sang and danced with me, and it was like I was back to being a filly again. I forgave him for losing touch with me, because it was kind of my fault, too, and I helped them put the wedding all the way together. It was a beautiful ceremony, and I think it brought me and Shining close again.”
Princess Twilight sunk in on herself, feeling like she was grasping at straws. “You’ve never heard of changelings, and Nightmare Moon came back when you were both fillies. Have you heard of Tirek?”
Applejack stared blankly, while Librarian Twilight frowned and rubbed her temple. “Tirek, Tirek …” she muttered. “That sounds familiar … I think I remember that name from pre-Equestrian history …”
“Starlight Glimmer?”
Applejack crinkled her snout and looked at Librarian Twilight. “That that filly you went to school with?”
“No, you’re thinking of Moonlight Twinkle. It’s a common naming convention for unicorns, stop looking at me like that.”
Princess Twilight sighed. “Discord?”
They both stared forward in confusion, and Applejack jabbed Librarian Twilight’s shoulder. “Ain’t that the word you called Apple Bloom’s band at the talent show?”
Librarian Twilight raised her eyebrows. “How did you remember that?”
“It sounded like too nice a word for decribin’ three fillies killin’ a dozen cats.”
Princess Twilight flopped back in her chair, still shaking her head. “Sombra!?”
Their expressions lit up and Librarian Twilight said, “Oh, I know that one! He was the tyrannical ruler of the Crystal Empire!”
Princess Twilight straightened. “And? What happened to him?”
“Cadence and Shining Armor were there when the empire returned, and they found the crystal heart at the last minute and saved the city from his return. Nopony’s sure what happened to him after that, he might be gone for good.”
Applejack crossed her hooves across her chest. “What’s all this about? We been sittin’ here answerin’ all these crazy questions ‘til the tea’s gone cold and none of ‘em make any sense!” Librarian Twilight put a hoof on her shoulder, and she let out a long breath, losing some of the edge from her voice. “Sorry, I don’t mean nothin’ bad, you seem normal enough n’ all. I’m just thinkin’ we earned an explanation from you.”
Princess Twilight frowned, piecing together everything she could from the Library World she found herself in. She nodded slowly and sat forward. “You’re right, you do deserve an explanation, and I’m not sure how much more information I could get right now without getting into the really fine details.” She took a deep breath and rubbed her shoulder. “The only problem is, there’s a lot to go through. I’m not even sure how to start, or how long it would take to tell, and I don’t know how long I even have to try and explain all of this. I wish I could just show it to you …”
Librarian Twilight bolted up in her chair. “That’s it! Why didn’t I think of it before?” She rounded the table and hurried out into the main room of the library. Her voice drifted back into the kitchen. “Where is it? Where is it?”
Applejack leaned back, chuckled, and shook her head. “Now ya done it.”
“Me? If I knew what she was thinking of, I’d be out there looking for whatever she’s looking for, too.”
Librarian Twilight let out a loud, “Ah-ha!” and rushed back into the kitchen, floating a large book next to her. She sat back down and dropped the book, rustling through the pages. “It’s definitely in here somewhere. Why didn’t I think of it when you were asking questions? I suppose it’s because I’ve never gotten it to work, it’s much too complicated, but you’re an alicorn, it shouldn’t be too difficult for—yes! This is it!” She slapped the page flat, then spun the book around for Princess Twilight to see. “It’s Aurora Symphony’s memory sharing spell! You should be able to let us see your whole life at once! And if there’s a trick to making it work that I don’t know, you could show me how to cast it and I can share my life with you!”
Princess Twilight raised her eyebrows and pulled the book closer, reading over the spell. Every unicorn filly had heard of Aurora Symphony, her feats of magic had only been dwarfed by Starswirl the Bearded and Clover the Clever, but she’d never come across a memory-sharing spell. She supposed there were benefits to your study time when you were just a librarian that didn’t have to run around fighting giant monsters.
“Hmm,” she said, frowning at the spell. “I’m … no, I don’t think this will work.” She sighed. “It’s designed to only share short memories, maybe an hour or two at the most. If I tried to share any more than that, there would be a strong chance of causing psychic damage to you, me, or both of us. And if I tried to share with both of you, the chances would be even greater of that happening.”
“Oh.” Librarian Twilight frowned and sunk into her chair. “It didn’t say anything about that in the description. Maybe that’s why I could never cast it properly? How do you know it works like that?”
“It’s based on the wording of the spell itself, and how much energy it takes to cast. It’s … difficult to explain.” Her face reddened. “It took a long time in school for me to learn how to do that.” She rubbed her chin, then broke out in a smile. “But I suppose I could cast the spell more than once! Share the important memories, and then just fill in the parts between. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be a lot faster.” She looked up at them, then back over the spell, going over the structure and flow of magic, converting it to memory. “Okay! Yeah, this will work. And … I guess the place to start … is what happened when I got my cutie mark …” Twilight breathed in deep, pulled the memory to the front of her mind, and cast the spell. As their eyes widened and they looked at each other, Twilight explained her life.
They both listened with rapt attention as she spoke. She skipped over large swaths of time that didn’t matter and filled in the parts that did, pulling memories to mind and casting the spell again and again. Part of the way through, Applejack got up and made them all new cups of tea, her head always over her shoulder, still paying attention to Princess Twilight, ready to pause and let a new memory wash over her. The fresh tea was ready by the time she finished, leading all the way up to her protracted battle with Starlight Glimmer.
“… And each new version of Equestria was worse than the next, full of wars, and pain, and fear, and … and then I landed here.” She looked from one, to the other, then down at her tea. She took a sip. “Here, in a world that’s happy and … and normal, it’s just that the heroes were somepony else.”
Librarian Twilight and Applejack both sat back in their seats, looking dazed. Applejack rubbed her forehead and grimaced. “So … we were all … destined to be friends?”
“For me, yes. But that isn’t why we were friends. We were friends for the same reason you’re friends here in this reality, the reason I’ve been fighting to get them back.” Princess Twilight’s heart felt heavy and she drooped her ears. “Because they were good ponies.”
“… I was supposed to be Princess Celestia’s student,” Librarian Twilight murmured. “I struggled with practical exams because I couldn’t control my magic, I needed Princess Celestia’s help to learn …”
Applejack pressed her lips together as she looked at her Twilight, then turned to Princess Twilight. “What happens now, princess? You goin’ back to fight that Starlight Glimmer again?”
“… I don’t know,” she said, sinking into her chair. “I don’t know that I can beat her.”
“But you’re an alicorn.”
“And I still don’t know. She’s so powerful. I’ve never met anypony like her before, she has so much magical talent. The only creature I’ve ever met who’s more powerful is a living embodiment of chaos.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I think the problem is that I can’t face her head on. I need to do something else than to try and beat her. If I try again, I have to reach her some other way.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “And why ain’t ya sure you’re gonna try again? I know my Twi, and she wouldn’t give up for nothin’, if it meant helpin’ others, and she ain’t even one of Equestria’s great heroes.” She smiled fondly at Librarian Twilight, then faltered.
Librarian Twilight looked at Applejack with sad resignation. She ran her hoof over a knot in the tabletop, then looked at Princess Twilight. “There’s no such thing as a multiverse, is there?”
Princess Twilight fidgeted, returning her attention to the mug of tea. She’d tried to lighten the blow, leaving out what details she could, but her fight with Starlight was too complicated to leave everything completely out. “… No. I once was visited by myself from the future, but was too excited to listen and didn’t find out why she’d come back. After a week of driving myself and everypony around me crazy, I went back in time to tell myself not to bother … and was talked over by the younger version of me.” She gave a sad smile and pressed her hooves together. “It’s a closed loop. There’s only one reality.”
Grimacing in confusion, Applejack tapped on the table. “But you just been sayin’ you’ve been to worse and worse Equestrias, princess, if there’s only one reality, how’s that make sense?”
“The magic that Starlight used is one of the most powerful spells to ever exist.” Princess Twilight bowed her head. “So powerful it can reshape reality. My failures haven’t been sending me into different universes …”
“… They’ve been destroying and recreating this one over and over again,” Librarian Twilight finished.
Applejack grew quiet. She cupped her mug in her hooves and stared down into the tea, then looked at Librarian Twilight. “Are … is this … our lives ain’t real? We’re just some sorta weird magic time trick that put all’a these memories in my head of you and me and …” She closed her eyes and looked back at her tea.
Librarian Twilight grimaced and shuffled her hooves together. “I don’t know.”
“Your lives are real,” Princess Twilight said. She took a steadying sip. “This isn’t a trick universe. Time is immutable, you can’t create fake memories or trick ponies by moving through it, your movements through time would already be there. Starlight’s magic reshaped reality and changed it into this. Your lives are real.” She shifted in her seat and tried to not look at them. “You’re more real than I am. I’m … just an echo of something that doesn’t exist anymore, caused by me following Starlight back through time and trying to stop her. My world doesn’t exist anymore, and I’ve been trying to reshape reality back to what it was before. But if I go back …”
Applejack caught her gaze and held it. “If you go back … this world’ll be destroyed, too.”
Princess Twilight closed her eyes and let out a long breath, then nodded. “Before, when ponies were enslaved, or dying … it felt like the only option I could take. Equestria had been one way, Starlight had broken it, and I was trying to fix it. But …” She looked around the kitchen. She knew by heart where every single dish she owned was put away, knew what part of the kitchen got hottest while the stove was on, where the dust-bunnies tended to gather under the cupboards. The tree was there, the tree was alive, and the tree was filled with her and her friends, still together, still happy, in a world that had been untouched by half the pain and trauma of her own, where the heroes were somepony else. “How can I go back again to fight a battle I don’t know that I can win? Go back and knowingly, willingly destroy your world, your marriage, your lives, and ever look at myself in the mirror again?”
They both looked down at their mugs and a silence fell over the kitchen. Through the window, they heard the distant crunch of something slamming into the shed, followed by Spike’s doubled up laughter.
Applejack lifted her head, looked from one Twilight to the other, and asked, “What happens if you don’t go back?”
“… I don’t know.” She closed her eyes. “I’m … protected from the changes to reality because I went through the portal right after Starlight, but … reality isn’t supposed to have two Twilight Sparkles in it. Once Starlight finishes the spell and comes back through … either she’ll take the place of the version of herself that’s already here, or she’ll become this reality’s version of her and forget she ever even went back in time. And … there will only be one Twilight Sparkle here.” She opened her eyes again. “I’m not sure which, but … I’m the echo, not you. You’re the Twilight that belongs in this universe. The … cleaner way for the spell to work would be to let the echo fade away.”
Librarian Twilight frowned. “But … that would mean it’s more likely that the Starlight Glimmer of this world will be the one who stays, not the one who went back in time. Would she be willing to change herself that much?”
A thoughtful pause hung over them while Princess Twilight ran her hoof along the lip of her mug. “Starlight Glimmer went back in time to destroy the root of our friendship, so that we’d never have gone to her town. Us going there caused her to lose the power and influence she had, and her plan wasn’t to start all over again somewhere else, or change her approach, or reflect on why she wanted that power and influence in the first place, she just wanted to erase that event from ever happening. And if the version of her that went back in time disappears, the version that’s here would have still been in her town, gathering more strength, unaware that she’d ever been exposed or that she went back in time to change it. She would have just lived her life and followed her plans like we’d never met her.” Twilight looked back at the other two. “Which is exactly what Starlight wants.”
Applejack let out a huff through her snout. “She sounds like a real piece’a work.”
Princess Twilight gave her a small shrug. “And the thing is, I’m not sure that she is.” She shook her head. “She’s not particularly friendly and doesn’t like us, obviously, but from her perspective, I don’t know that I can blame her. She was doing something that she felt strongly was right, the only way she could think to do it, and we took it all away from her for reasons she doesn’t fully understand. I don’t hate her for this. I can’t.”
Sighing, Applejack nodded. “I reckon I understand. It’s an awful lot of understandin’ you’re givin’ somepony who don’t want or need your understandin’, though. More’n most ponies could give.”
Princess Twilight smiled sadly. “I am the princess of friendship.”
After a scant few moments, the silence turned thick and suffocating. The three fiddled with their mugs and pawed at the table, not looking at each other. Finally, Librarian Twilight cleared her throat. “So … what happens now?”
Princess Twilight closed her eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s right. I don’t know that I have the legal, magical, spiritual, or moral authority to erase your world just to try and restore mine, especially when I’m not sure I can even do it. At the same time … if I don’t go back through the portal and try again, and Starlight finishes her work and the spell closes all the way, the universe will make sure there’s only one Twilight Sparkle here. And you’re the one who belongs, my body and my memories are just a reflection from a world that doesn’t exist anymore. If I don’t go back through, I’ll disappear.” She felt her heart hammering in her chest, and heat rise in her eyes. “… I don’t want to die,” she forced out.
The other Twilight and Applejack looked at each other, but Princess Twilight raised a hoof and took in a long breath of air, centering herself again. “I’m not the right pony to make this decision. It isn’t fair to you, and it isn’t fair of me. I can’t view this objectively.” She shrugged. “Though … I don’t suppose anypony can view this objectively. But …” She closed her eyes and sat up straight. “This is your world, not mine, I’m just a … a guest here. The decision should be yours. So … I’ll … do what you choose for me to do. Even if that means letting myself fade away.” She opened her eyes and looked around the kitchen. The cupboard just above the stove still had a scorch mark on it, the same one Pinkie caused when she accidentally let a stove-pop popcorn tray explode. Princess Twilight smiled. “So long as Equestria is still safe and whole, that’s all that matters to me.”
Librarian Twilight and Applejack exchanged a look again as silence settled back down, just as thick and suffocating as before, but carrying a heavy weight that threatened to crush them both. Their expressions changed rapidly through different variations of concern and worry, and Princess Twilight got the sense that they were conducting an entire conversation in silence, one that she couldn’t hope to understand. She felt a twinge of jealousy for the version of herself that could. At last, they both looked at her. Librarian Twilight cleared her throat. “I … don’t know that it’s fair for us to decide, either. We’re nopony important, why would it be us who get to decide what happens to a princess? To a hero of Equestria?”
Princess Twilight gave her a half smile. “You’re me, though, and I’m a princess, so you have honorary authority here.”
“Do I, though?” she asked. “I’m not the princess of friendship, nor Celestia’s student. I’ve never saved the world, I’ve barely stepped hoof outside of Ponyville or Canterlot. I’m a librarian who is married to a farmer.” She shook her head. “If you sent me back in time, I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to stop Starlight Glimmer, I’d just be frightened and lost.”
Princess Twilight breathed in deep or nodded. “I understand. Every single time I’ve been put in situations like this, I have never known how I’m going to do anything, either. It seems to work out okay, most of the time.”
Librarian Twilight opened her mouth, but Applejack interrupted, speaking over them. “We at least oughtta be askin’ Princess Celestia and Princess Luna about all’a this, we can’t be makin’ no big decisions for the whole dang world, whether we got authority or not. This ain’t somethin’ a pair’a ponies oughtta be decidin’ on their lonesome, not for somethin’ this big.” Realization flashed across her face and she grimaced. “If … we even have time to ask ‘em.”
Pressing her lips together and knitting her brow, Librarian Twilight asked, “How long do we have?”
Princess Twilight smiled sadly. “I don’t know. I’ve taken some time to explore a few of the other versions of Equestria, but not very long. This is the longest I’ve stayed in a single reality before trying again.” She rubbed her shoulder and looked away. “We’re dealing with time here. Theoretically, Starlight’s spell happened instantaneously in the present and there shouldn’t be any time at all before it’s finished. Since I went through after her, the spell is affording me some protection from that. Maybe it will last forever, or at least until I dismiss it. Maybe it will run out at any moment. I have no way of knowing.”
As she spoke, Applejack and Librarian Twilight grew more and more grim. They exchanged a wavering look and sunk further into their chairs. “Why us?” Applejack asked. “Why give this to us to decide? We ain’t the same ponies as you and your version of everythin’. We’re just a couple’a ponies.”
Her sad smile widened. “The friends I knew and I were all just ponies, too. We always just tried to do what we thought was right. That’s all I could ask of you.” She closed her eyes. “And I know I don’t have to ask that.”
Applejack let out a long breath. Eventually she nodded. “I, uh … think Twi n’ me gotta talk this over. And, uh … I ain’t sure we can do that in front of you.”
“Of course.” Princess Twilight stood up from her chair. Librarian Twilight started to protest, but she waved it off. “I’ll be in the main room.” She left the kitchen and shut the door behind her, then stood in place and took in a deep breath. The smell of old paper was stronger there, and her eyes ran across the bookshelves. She couldn’t recognize the collection of books on sight, but that was hardly unusual, they got moved around so often she never knew where any given book would be. She did know that the kitchen door never latched properly, and every time she closed it, it would spring back open a bare crack. She turned around and pressed her eye to the jamb.
Applejack and Librarian Twilight looked at each other with the same grim expressions on their faces. Twilight rubbed her eye and leaned against the table. “Are … are we really supposed to condemn a princess to her own death?” she asked.
“I don’t know what we’re supposed to do, sugar.” Applejack took off her hat and set it on the table, running a hoof through her mane. “I ain’t cut out for this sorta thing.”
“… I’m not so sure.” Librarian Twilight straightened, leaving most of Princess Twilight’s range of vision. “The Applejack in her reality is just a farmer, too. She lived and worked for Ponyville, and followed that Twilight out into danger because it was asked of her. If I’d asked that of you on the day we met, would you have followed me into the forest?”
“… Yes. ‘Course I would’a.” Applejack sighed again. “But I ain’t done it, even if I would’a. I ain’t got the foggiest idea what bein’ in real danger is like. Maybe I’d make good decisions right away, or maybe I’d need to learn how to make ‘em over time. I don’t know.”
“Well … I guess this is when we find out.”
Applejack’s brow creased and she frowned at Librarian Twilight. “What?”
“We’re in mortal danger right now, AJ. The whole world is.” Princess Twilight heard her take a deep breath. “And not just because we’ll get erased if she goes back. Even if we tell her it isn’t worth the risk, and she agrees and lets herself … disappear, Starlight Glimmer is still out there. And even if she wins this and Princess Twilight never went to her village, she’s still a danger to all of Equestria.”
Applejack’s confusion deepened. “How do ya figure?”
“You mean aside from her being apparently powerful enough to modify a spell by Starswirl the Bearded, one of the greatest unicorns to ever live, and use it to reshape reality? Somepony with that much power who’s willing to use it that way is a danger to everypony. And believe me, there’s no doubt that she will use it again.”
“You’re uh … I ain’t followin’ you, hun. I get that what she’s doin’ to them ponies in her town is wrong, but she ain’t been hurtin’ nopony else so far.” Applejack shifted in her seat. “Ugh, I feel like I’m passin’ the buck here sayin’ that. We can tell Princess Celestia and Princess Luna about her, I’m sure they’ll know how to get all’a that sorted out without nopony gettin’ hurt somehow.”
“Will they know? They both seemed awfully willing to let Princess Twilight and her friends take care of things in her reality, and that reality seems ten times as dangerous as this one. Our princesses haven’t done half as much. And don’t forget that Princess Twilight went there to solve a friendship problem, are you sure our princesses are equipped to solve a friendship problem?” Librarian Twilight let out a long breath through her snout. “And that’s supposing we even have the chance to tell them about this. When … if Princess Twilight fades away, there is a very strong possibility you and I won’t even remember meeting her. This conversation—this whole thing might be happening outside of time.”
Applejack’s eyes widened. “Gosh dang …” She shook her head. “Still, uh … ain’t sayin’ it’s a good thing, but if Starlight Glimmer’s left alone, ain’t nopony in danger from her, ‘cept anypony who joins up with her cult thing, and the only danger there’s gettin’ tricked.”
Librarian Twilight shook her head resolutely. “The problem is she’s wrong. Not just morally, she’s fundamentally incorrect about cutie marks, and she’s lying to the ponies around her, hiding her own cutie mark from them. She might have been able to keep the charade up until Princess Twilight arrived, and she might be able to keep it up for longer here, where that didn’t happen, but somepony is going to find out. It’s too big of a lie, that misunderstands the nature of ponies too much. And what do you think is going to happen when she loses everything again, only this time without the group of Equestria’s greatest heroes to blame her failure on? Where do you think she’s going to direct her revenge?”
A stony silence filled the kitchen. Princess Twilight stared through the crack with wide eyes. She leaned her weight against the door jamb and slid a few inches to the floor, feeling her heart pound.
“… It’s gonna be the same thing over again, ‘cept aimed at all of us.” Applejack took a deep breath and shook her head. “And we ain’t gonna remember it’s happenin’ to tell nopony about it.” She looked in Librarian Twilight’s direction, her expression probing. “Are you sure she’s gonna? How come the other Twi didn’t think of it like that?”
“You saw her.” Librarian Twilight gestured in Princess Twilight’s direction, towards the door. “She’s exhausted. And frightened. She’s spent all day fighting—maybe more than one day, since time isn’t moving forward for her in a consistent way—and she’s lost over and over again, sent to one world after another where everything’s wrong and broken. Did you notice that half of the time when talking about her and her friends, she used the past tense, as if they’re already dead? And they’re not dead, and she’s not dead because she’s still here the spell’s protected her and her reality up to this point, but she can’t see that. I can’t imagine the kind of stress she’s under, how hard this is. She’s kept it together for the most part, but there’s so much to think about.”
“Yeah.” Applejack’s voice came out as a rough whisper. “There sure is a heck of a lot to think about.” She rubbed her forehead and leaned against the table, then straightened again. “And how can you be so sure about all that stuff with her reality still bein’ there? She said she was like an echo of somethin’ that ain’t there anymore, is she wrong?”
“She is. I know because of how she described that unguent that Zecora used in the changeling version of Equestria.”
Applejack’s expression crinkled with confusion. “Come again?”
“She said that Zecora used an unguent to determine if they were changelings in disguise, which means that whatever was in it works like a spell of true seeing, but it didn’t just show that they weren’t disguising themselves, it made them glow.“
Applejack looked at her stone-faced. “If that’s supposed to mean somethin’ to me, hun …”
Librarian Twilight chuckled and stroked Applejack’s shoulder. “Sorry. If she was just a normal pony, a true seeing spell wouldn’t have any effect on her, but it made her glow because it was showing the remnant of the magic that’s protecting her. Without its protection, she would have vanished—or more appropriately, would have merged with that reality’s version of me, losing everything from her original reality in the process, so she might as well have vanished.”
“I get that,” Applejack said, rubbing her head. “But don’t that just mean that she’s protected, but everythin’ else from her world’s gone?”
Librarian Twilight shook her head. “Time doesn’t work that way, it can’t work that way if there’s no such thing as a multiverse. If her reality doesn’t exist, she’d never have grown up and had the experiences she did that would have led her to following Starlight Glimmer into the time portal, which means she wouldn’t be here to need protection from the changes. It would create a time paradox, which a universe without a multiverse cannot have. The only thing that could possibly happen would be for the spell to create a multiverse inside the spell. Twilight’s universe still exists, and will continue to exist until the spell ends, the multiverses collapse back to a single reality, and the paradoxes disappear.”
Applejack opened her mouth, frowned, then shut it again and shook her head. “… I’m gonna take your word for it, Twi.” Librarian Twilight chuckled. “So actin’ like I understood all that, right now we got our Equestria, and her Equestria, and both of ‘em exist while the spell’s goin’ on, and … maybe all them other Equestria’s she’s been to are still around, too?”
Librarian Twilight shook her head. “There aren’t any paradoxes keeping the other ones open.”
Applejack’s frown deepened as she stared forward, letting the silence draw out. Her expression changed from thoughtful to dark. She closed her eyes and broke the silence. “So that makes our choices … askin’ a princess to let herself … her friends … and everythin’ about her world die, and maybe still doomin’ our world to even bigger problems … or tellin’ her to go back … endin’ the paradox here even if she fails again … and lettin’ ourselves disappear.”
Librarian Twilight set her hoof on Applejack’s shoulder, rubbing gently, then running it up into Applejack’s mane. She pulled their foreheads together and they sat in silence in the kitchen, eyes closed, resting against each other. “Still ready to follow me into the forest?” she asked in a murmur.
“… ‘Course I am.” She touched Librarian Twilight’s cheek. “I’d follow you anywhere, Twi. I’d follow you to the ends of the universe.”
Princess Twilight saw them draw closer, pressed close, their lips meeting. The kiss spoke as many words as they had said out loud, colored with grief and terror, reluctance and sadness, hope and above all else an unshakable, devastating wave of love, strong enough to cast all of the changelings out of Canterlot. A cascade of self-loathing crashed over Princess Twilight as she felt like a voyeur, invading such a moment of pure intimacy. She rolled away from the door, pressing her back against the frame and squeezing her eyes shut. She felt tears escape her eyelids. “Why did you do this?” she whispered into the air, hugging herself around the middle. “Why would you do this to them? If you knew, would you have done this? Did you know?” She grit her teeth and tried to shove away all the rage and sadness back inside, keeping her breathing even and her ears pinned back toward the door.
A weighted stillness filled the kitchen for a long time, and Princess Twilight didn’t have to guess to know that the kiss had long since ended and that Twilight and Applejack had been left with nothing else but to hold each other in silence, wrestling with a question that nopony should be forced to make. At last, Applejack broke the quiet. “There’s only one choice we can make, huh?”
“… Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe we’d remember this and could tell the princesses. Maybe Starlight Glimmer would stay where she is and not have any problems.”
“… And maybe we both know that if she does, and keeps hurtin’ those ponies with a lie, and we let that happen when we could do somethin’ to stop it, that we’d be doin’ the wrong thing.”
Librarian Twilight’s voice broke. “Maybe we don’t have to do the right thing.”
“Do you believe that?”
“… No.”
Princess Twilight cringed inwardly, hugging herself tighter, pressing her jaw shut until her teeth hurt. She didn’t want to listen as she heard Librarian Twilight sniff, then say, “I love you.”
She didn’t want to think as she heard Applejack say, “I love you, too. Forever ‘n always.”
She heard the chairs in the kitchen squeak, and she fumbled back to her hooves, wiping her face on the back of a leg, forcing in steadying breaths, and slipping away from the doorway. She pretended to stare at a bookshelf as the kitchen door swung open. She steeled herself and looked over her shoulder.
Librarian Twilight and Applejack stood side by side, necks pressed together and forelegs around each other’s shoulders, their expressions sunken and tired, but resolute. “We’ve made our decision,” Librarian Twilight said. “You have to go back”
Princess Twilight closed her eyes and nodded. “I understand. Starlight Glimmer can’t be left up to fate.” She turned and crossed the room, stopping in front of the two ponies. She drooped her ears and bowed her head. “I … don’t know if I can say how sorry I am.”
Librarian Twilight gave her a sad smile. “Were I in your hooves, I’m sure I’d feel the same way.”
“All I can ask is for you to try ‘n do what’s right, princess. But … I know I don’t gotta ask it.” Applejack searched her face for a moment, then reached up and slipped a bracelet from around her fetlock with her teeth, the bracelet’s chain so thin it blended into her coat. She dropped it into her hoof and held it out for Princess Twilight. “Here. Take this. For luck.”
Princess Twilight grabbed the chain in her magic and floated it close to her face, her eyes widening at the detail. The thin chain wove together in a complicated braid studded with tiny gemstones that glittered in the light, growing as thin as a single hair where the magical clasp held it tight around a pony’s leg. It thickened in the middle, not enough to where it was ever noticeable on Applejack’s hoof, but enough to fit more detail. Princess Twilight saw a tiny apple made of a ruby pressed in next to an amethyst star. The glittering white chips swirled around the two in a constellation, then spread outward along the chain as a galaxy.
“This … this is your wedding band …” Princess Twilight whispered. “I can’t take this …”
“Take it,” Applejack said. “Don’t seem like it’s gonna do me much good here pretty soon.” She put her hoof on Princess Twilight’s shoulder, her tone growing softer. “In the years I’ve worn that, it’s brought me nothin’ but good luck and happiness. I want it to do the same for you.”
Princes Twilight wiped her face, then carefully slipped the bracelet over her hoof, feeling the clasp hook itself and set softly on her coat. It glittered in the light, and she reluctantly lowered her hoof to the floor. “Thank you. I’ll do my best to deserve its luck.”
Applejack tightened her hug against Librarian Twilight for a moment, then reluctantly stepped away. “So, uh … what happens now?”
Princess Twilight chewed her lip. “Now … Spike and I go back and try again.” She lowered her ears. “I just need to go back to the map and reopen the portal.” She looked from one to the other. “Do … do you want to come and see us off?”
Applejack and Librarian Twilight exchanged weak smiles, and Librarian Twilight said, “It would be interesting to see a time portal.”
“And it ain’t like we got nothin’ better to do.”
Nodding, Princess Twilight walked to the front door. She paused with her hoof on the handle, breathed in the familiar smell of the library one last time, then stepped outside. “Spike!”
“What?” they both called back at once. Applejack chuckled and rubbed her face.
Princess Twilight rolled her eyes. “Come here! It’s time to go!”
Both Spikes rounded the tree, wheeling a purple and green soapbox racer between them. “Where are we going?” they said in stereo.
“One of you ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Applejack said, “The other one’s goin’ back with this Twilight here after Starlight Glimmer.”
“Aww,” said one Spike, “But we’re almost done!”
“Who’s Starlight Glimmer?” asked the other at the exact same time.
“It’s a long story,” said Librarian Twilight.
“S—” started Princess Twilight, then snapped her mouth shut until Librarian Twilight had finished talking. She smiled weakly, then said, “Sorry, Spike, but it’s time.”
“But this racer’s so cool!”
She lowered her head and murmured, “We can’t stay here, Spike. We could be running out of time.”
His annoyance turned to worry, and he frowned. “What happened?”
“Nothing yet. We just … don’t know how the spell works. We’ve been here longer than we were in any of the other different Equestrias. We might not be able to go back again if we don’t hurry.”
Spike nodded, gave the soapbox racer a lingering pet with his claw, then stood up straight and walked over to Princess Twilight. “Okay, I understand.”
“I promise you can build your own racer when we get back.” She straightened and muttered, “If we get back,” to herself.
“Spike, put your racer away,” said Librarian Twilight. “Applejack and I are going to walk Princess Twilight and her Spike back to where they arrived.”
Librarian Spike frowned and looked like he was going to object, before looking over the gathered group, his expression turning from confused to worried as he caught their expressions. “Okay … Promise me you’ll explain what’s going on later, though.”
“I promise,” Librarian Twilight said. Princess Twilight cringed at the tone, how level and even it was, and the profound well of sadness hidden just below that surface. She imagined most ponies wouldn’t have been able to notice it, with the exceptions of her and Applejack. Librarian Spike wheeled his racer around toward the back of the library, and the group set off.
The sun had lowered to the orange haze of dusk in the sky, and the streets were empty as they walked. Every house they passed flickered with lights through the windows, and the distant murmur of conversation and laughter filled the air. It felt like just another day in Ponyville to Princess Twilight, small, warm, and vibrant. She squinted her eyes and sped up, pushing herself through town, to the barren hole in the landscape where a castle never grew, but with a small, round table projecting its map of Equestria in the middle of the field. She stopped in front of it and tried to keep from shaking. Spike touched her leg, frowning with concern, and she gave him a reassuring smile, then turned back to Librarian Twilight and Applejack.
“I’m …” she said, looking from one to the other. They’d drifted to the back of the group through the walk, and stood side by side, holding each other close. Librarian Twilight’s head fit perfectly beneath Applejack’s chin, like they’d had years of experience holding each other close. They probably did. Princess Twilight’s heart hammered in her chest. “Maybe I’m wrong,” she blurted out. “Maybe Starswirl’s spell was carefully designed to just go back inside your own timeline, because otherwise you might slip into an alternate one and never get back home. Maybe—” Librarian Twilight touched her shoulder gently. Her mouth snapped shut, and she whimpered.
“We both know it can’t work that way.” Librarian Twilight smiled, sad and tired, but with care. “The flow of time won’t support more than one reality, the only reason it’s allowing this to happen at all is because Starlight’s spell is still active. When it fades, when there’s nothing that can hold this reality together …”
Princess Twilight shut her eyes.
“… I wish I’d had the chance to know Princess Celestia when I was a filly. I wish I’d known why magic was so hard for me for so long, and to have somepony like that to reassure me and give me support. I can see it’s turned you into a strong pony with a really good heart.”
“… And it’s nice to know, that even if I hadn’t had her there, I would have turned out the same way. Princess Celestia would be happy to know that, too. She’d be very proud of you.” She looked at Applejack. “And it’s nice to know you’re always there for me. Regardless of what universe I’m in.” She stepped forward and hugged them both. “I’ll never forget you,” she whispered. She stepped back and wiped her face.
Librarian Twilight nodded. “Thank you.”
Applejack straightened up and took in a deep breath. “Give her what for, Twi.”
Princess Twilight turned around and poured magic into the table. The map glowed bright, and a crackle of electricity tore the air open, widening into the twisting vortex, leading back into the past. “Trying to ‘give her what for’ is what I’ve been doing wrong. It’s why this hasn’t been working. I need to remember who I am, and show her what she doesn’t know.” She looked back over her shoulder at the two, still pressed together, their manes whipping in the ethereal wind of the portal. Both of them looked at the crackling magic with awe. She let her eyes wander over Ponyville, with its glowing lights and happy laughter, a version untouched by pain and suffering, its existence both a comfort and a heavy weight. She waved at herself and Applejack one last time, took Spike’s claw, and stepped through the portal.
Ponyville streaked away into twisting, suffocating darkness.
“And that’s why I asked you here.” Twilight smiled and raised Starlight’s chin up. “If you’re willing to learn, I’m willing to teach you what I know. You’ll have the power to make Equestria an even better place.”
Starlight looked at the group gathered around the cutie map, flinched, and leaned over to Twilight, asking, “How do I start?”
“Starting is easy! All you have to do is make a friend. And you’ve got seven of them right here.”
The others stood up and circled around, and Starlight closed her eyes, smiling with happiness. A war of emotions boiled inside of Twilight. Relief that it was over, pride in her new student for being willing to start again, and joy over Equestria being whole again and her friends being there fought back the exhaustion, the physical pain, and the deep, cavernous well of regret and anguish that threatened to drive her to the floor. She kept the smile on her face, let the happy feelings keep her going, and listened to the new conversations spring to life around her. She heard all her friends make plans with Starlight for the following days, places to go, foods to try, and ponies to see, which she knew would set Starlight down the right path. Or at least a right path. That would have to be good enough. While everypony milled about, talking and laughing, Twilight quietly slipped out the door of the throne room.
As the door clicked shut, Twilight closed her eyes and felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. She didn’t know how long she’d been awake. It had only been a few hours, it wasn’t even lunchtime, but it felt like days, weeks, maybe months of fighting, over and over again, through world after world after world, back and forth from Cloudsdale to new unknowns. Her joints ached with a dull throb, her head pounded, her eyes felt sticky. She told herself it was fine as she walked, her eyes trained on the floor to keep herself from stumbling. Everypony would understand if she went to her room and fell asleep.
She hadn’t gone to her room. She lifted her gaze, across the antechamber, and settled on the roots hanging from the ceiling. She followed the twisting, ropy tendrils with her eyes, marveling at their size, watching the light dance across the gemstones that dangled downwards. Each gemstone carried a memory of her old home, of the years she’d spent there, the ponies she met, and the friends she made there.
The gemstones carried new memories now. Hundreds of them. Thousands. Some witnessed and others imagined, lasting the years she’d been in the tree and years more, of a different life, filled with the friends she made and the life she built. At least, a life she built. A life worth living. A life that deserved to live.
She felt the moisture run down her cheeks. The glittering gemstones wavered in her tears, and she fell to her haunches, bracing to stay upright on her forelegs. A sob tore its way out of her throat, and she slammed her eyes shut, feeling her body shake. “I hope I did it right,” she whispered through her tears. “I hope it was worth it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t …”
“Twilight?”
She flinched, and drew herself up, sniffling and rubbing her snout.
Applejack walked into the chamber, brow creased in concern. “Twi? You all right?”
She sniffled again and wiped her eyes. She looked around the room. “Where’s everypony else?” She felt her voice crack.
“Rarity’s takin’ Starlight to her place to make a dress.” Applejack touched Twilight’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, Twi?”
She looked at Applejack for several moments, feeling her head swim. “… On the day that we met, if I’d asked you to go stargazing with me, would you have gone?” she asked.
Applejack’s concern mixed with confusion. “What?”
Twilight closed her eyes and felt another tear escape. She wiped her face and pulled in a deep breath of air. “Sorry, that didn’t make any sense.” She studied Applejack’s face for several more moments, trying to recollect her strength, trying to rebuild the relief, pride, and joy to carry her through the day.
The strength wouldn’t come.
“Twilight, did somethin’ else happen?”
She shook her head and looked away, catching sight of a hanging gemstone. The image of Applejack touching her shoulder reflected back at her, except it wasn’t her shoulder, it was a different Twilight and a different Applejack, in a different life where she could press into Applejack’s neck and they’d fit together like they’d been made that way. She cleared her throat. “Um. When I was explaining the battle with Starlight, I said that the other versions of Equestria kept getting worse and worse, where Nightmare Moon, or Tirek, or Chrysalis had won, until it was so bad the world ended.”
Applejack nodded, still frowning and touched Twilight’s shoulder.
“… One of them …” she turned and looked at Applejack, feeling her heart hammer and her voice tremble in her throat. “One of them wasn’t worse. One of them was just … different.” She cringed, not sure how to go on, not sure how to explain it, or if she even had the strength to. A weight fell off her shoulders when she realized she didn’t need to explain it. “Let me just … show it to you.”
Twilight closed and pulled to mind the entire chunk of time she’d spent in the quiet, other Equestria, where the monsters never came, or if they did then somepony else was there to fight them, where they had never known the elements and the castle had never grown, where their fates hadn’t been intertwined and yet they’d been drawn together anyway. A quiet little Ponyville without fear and without pain, but full of warmth, happiness, friendship, and love. A wave of despair nearly drove her to the floor, but she grit her teeth and cast Aurora Symphony’s memory sharing spell.
Applejack shook her head slowly as the magic faded. “… Wow.”
“And now … it’s gone.” She bowed her head. “I gave them the choice. I couldn’t just leave and—and, erase them and live with myself, so I let them decide what happened. And they chose for me to go back. They knew that all of reality was in danger, and they chose for me to go back to save everypony here. And now they’re gone.” She sniffed and wiped her cheek. “They kept saying that I was the brave one, that this was the version of their world where I was the hero. I’m not the hero. I’ll never meet anypony as brave or as selfless as them for the rest of my life.”
Applejack shook her head slowly. “Wow.” She raised her head, carefully studying Twilight’s face. “I’m … sorry, Twi. I’m sorry the rest of us weren’t there with ya. None of what you did today’s somethin’ anypony should have to do on their lonesome.” She looked away. “I know Spike was there, too, but …”
“He’s still very young,” Twilight finished. She nodded and wiped her face again.
“And I’m sorry you couldn’t save everypony who deserved savin’.”
Twilight closed her eyes.
“But that don’t make you not a hero for all’a this. Even if it’s just for one pony today.” She touched Twilight’s shoulder again and drew her into eye contact. “What you did for Starlight really means somethin’, Twi. We both know it. We both saw her face when she realized she’d done wrong, but was gettin’ a second chance. We both know ain’t none of this that really makes ya feel like a hero, ya mostly feel scared, and lost, and worried about your friends, and all you can do is try and do what ya think is right. And sometimes that’s all it takes.” Applejack smiled. “You might not be feelin’ like a hero, but you’re a hero to her.”
Twilight sniffed. “I just … with everything they gave up … I had to make it worth it. I couldn’t let it be for nothing.” She shivered. “And when I took Starlight through the portal with me again … into that world of nothing …” She felt her eyes sting and she wrenched them shut, shaking her head hard. “I can’t believe they decided that. I can’t believe they were okay …”
“… I believe it. You would’a given up just as much for them, if that’s what they wanted. And … I would’a, too.” Applejack pulled Twilight into a hug. “Ya can’t beat yourself up for us bein’ us, Twi.”
Twilight bit her lip and hugged Applejack back. The weak surface of composure she’d built up crumbled around her, and she sobbed into Applejack’s neck. “I should have been able to do something! I should have known what to do! What good does it do to be called the hero if you can’t do anything when it’s really important?” Applejack rubbed her back in slow circles as she cried, feeling the well of rage and loss boil over, hoping that getting it out would offer relief, but the despair felt endless, bottomless. She could shed a tear for every mare, stallion, and foal in that other world and it wouldn’t be enough.
“You did what you could,” Applejack told her through her sobs. “You did what you could, and ain’t nopony who could ask for more than that.”
Twilights heaving slowly turned to shaking as her eyes dried up and turned red and puffy. Her chest hurt and her cheeks ached from grimacing. She slowly withdrew from the embrace and wiped at her matted coat. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thanks for being here.”
“Always.” After a few moments of silence, Applejack’s expression grew distant and she shuffled her hooves on the floor. “… I, uh … I sometimes think about what things would be like if I hadn’t followed you into the forest then. When we met. Not outta regrets, mind, the opposite’a that. Followin’ you into the forest and everythin’ that’s happened after changed my life. It made my world bigger, gave me a group of ponies worth layin’ down my life for, and made me a better pony. I think back and wonder about where I would’a ended up without that.” She took her hat off and held it to her chest. “… It’s good to know that there’s at least one world without it where I’d still end up findin’ my way.”
Twilight gave her a sad smile. “I think there are lots of worlds where you would. You’re a good pony, Applejack.” She rested her hoof on Applejack’s shoulder. After a moment, her smile faded. “… You would have gone stargazing with me that day. I don’t even have to ask, I already know.”
“… Course I would’ve. Wouldn’t have crossed my mind to say no.” She stepped closer, bringing their faces bare inches apart. She lowered her voice. “I’d follow you anywhere, Twi. To the ends of the universe.”
Twilight closed her eyes and rested her forehead against Applejack’s. “If the day we’d met had just been more peaceful.”
Applejack touched her cheek. “Not a lot we can change about all’a that now. All we can do is … decide what’s next.” She stepped back and Twilight opened her eyes. Applejack gave her a level, probing expression. “… You know I already love you as a friend with all my heart, Twi. I’d follow you into the forest every time without a thought. But if where you’re wantin’ me to go ain’t into the forest … I’d follow you there, too.” She flashed a mischievous smile. “That other me wasn’t lyin’ when she said you’re the cutest pony I’ve ever met.”
Twilight felt her cheeks warm up, and she returned the smile, then looked down. She shuffled her hooves. “Have I been … keeping you waiting? For me to … realize that … that you were …” She grimaced. “Have I just been stupid and blind?”
Applejack chuckled and shook her head. “You’ve been my friend, Twi, and that’s been enough for me for a long time.” She put her hat back on and pulled it low over her eyes. “It’s just that, uh, that other world’s got me thinkin’ that I’ve been missin’ out.”
“Yeah.” Twilight grinned. “Me too.” She scraped her hooves on the ground for a moment then stepped forward, nuzzling Applejack’s cheek. “Want to find out what we were missing out on together?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Applejack turned and kissed Twilight’s cheek.
Twilight had wondered where the dumb butterflies in her stomach had been, and why they took so long to show up to the party. She grinned until her face hurt and stepped back, sharing the smile with Applejack. “You, um, free for dinner?”
Applejack’s smile widened and she nodded. “Least I hope so, depends on what’s goin’ on with Starlight next, she said she wanted to help out on the farm some.”
Twilight let out a long breath as the little bubble around real life broke and she remembered what else was going on that day. “Yeah, and I was going to look through the library with her.” She shook her head and giggled. “If dinner doesn’t work out … how about I bring my telescope out to the orchard after dark?”
“That sounds like a plan even if dinner does work out.” Applejack winked.
“It’s a date, then.” They both smiled, cheeks colored, then Twilight sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Sorry for … all of the drama and crying when you came in.”
Applejack waved her off. “Not like it ain’t deserved.” She rocked back and forth on her hooves, then looked upward. Twilight followed her gaze toward the tree roots and the dangling gems. Applejack scooted around and wrapped a hoof around Twilight’s shoulders. “… In a way, they ain’t really gone, so long as you remember ‘em.”
Twilight leaned into Applejack. “Maybe so. I’m never going to forget them.”
“Don’t think I’m gonna, either.” Applejack squeezed and kissed Twilight’s temple. “You’re probably beat to heck from today.”
She let out a long sigh.
“I can go and let you rest. Or stay, if that’s what ya want.”
Twilight hugged Applejack sideways and pushed into her neck. “Thank you, but I probably should lie down for a while. See you tonight?”
“You got it, Twi.” She kissed Twilight’s temple again, then stepped away from the hug. “… I know it probably don’t feel like it, but ya done good today, Twi. Ya didn’t fail them, and you gave Starlight a new start, and that ain’t nothin’ to scoff at. Nopony could ask for more out of you.”
“I do know that. I’ll … try to remember it.” They shared another smile, and Twilight turned her attention back to the tree roots. “It’s going to be hard.”
Applejack nodded, then walked to the door. She cast a look over her shoulder before leaving, her expression tinged with worry, then she slipped out the door.
Twilight watched the light catch in the gemstones as they spun, throwing back images of a different life. In that life she saw hopeful echoes of a possible future for herself, but they all cut deep to the bone. She didn’t want to do it. She hadn’t made the decision. And yet. And yet nopony else could be responsible but her. Thousands of happy lives, different from the ones she knew, but oh so similar, snuffed out in an instant, replaced in favor of the reality she stood in, like a profane house built over the graves of innocents. She grimaced. She didn’t know if she would be able to look herself in the mirror, anyway. She didn’t know if she deserved to. She wasn’t the hero. The gems glittered in accusation, and she looked down.
A different glint of light caught her eye.
Twilight raised her hoof, wide-eyed. The slim gold chain shone through her coat, clasped around her fetlock. Her breath caught in her throat as she unhooked the other Applejack’s wedding band and held it in the light. The gemstone cutie marks sparkled through the gold, dancing, reflecting a life well lived and well-loved. Twilight couldn’t breathe as she cleared her mind and drove magic into her horn, casting a true seeing spell.
The wedding band glowed. Bright, shimmering, constant, vibrant magic, emanating from its enchanted clasp, but also from the very material it was made out of, a barrier against reality, protecting it from its paradox. The magic held strong as she looked, a closed loop, not the hoofprints of an unfinished spell, because there wasn’t a spell to end.
Twilight hugged the band to her chest, cradling it close, and felt tears roll down her cheeks. She looked up at the roots again, grinning ear to ear, wanting to laugh, wanting to scream, wanting to dance.
Despite it all, despite everything, somewhere out there, her tree was still alive, and still full of love and happiness, full of a life worth living, a life that deserved to live.
She slipped the band back around her hoof and clasped it on. “I’ll never forget you,” she told it. “You’re the true heroes of this story.” She stood up and looked back at the tree, smiling, her heart bursting with joy, and she wiped away her tears. “I told you I never know what I’m doing when I charge into the forest. These things just have a way of working themselves out.”
Twilight walked out of the antechamber and deeper into the castle, her exhaustion forgotten, off to sort out books to look over with Starlight, off to pack her telescope into its carrying case. She had a lot to do and so much to look forward to. Time waited for nopony.
Author's Note
Hey, pony peeps!
This one was fun to write. The idea popped almost fully formed in my head when I made a few random associations between other half-formed story ideas, and when I sat down to write it, it was like the story was trying to jump out of my brain and into a word doc as quickly as possible. I’m pleased with how it turned out, and I hope you enjoyed it, too. Thanks a bunch for taking the time to read it. Love yoouuuuuuu~
