It had been the dead of night, just past midnight in fact, when the Night Guard apparently found the courage within themselves to approach Princess Celestia. The last few days had been… relentlessly stressful for the ancient monarch, and the entire Canterlot palace staff were tip-hoofing around to avoid adding to beloved Celestia’s worries.
It had only been two days since the incident.
Celestia, growling under her breath at the sudden knocking, groggily stood from her bed, shook her ethereal pastel-rainbow mane, and made for her private chamber’s door. She had to be strategic in when she slept, in order to maintain the delicate balance of the cosmos she’d been looking after alone this past millennium. And when somepony decided to ruin her perfectly scheduled sleep-pattern, a schedule devised by none other than her dear former student Clockwork Orange (sadly passed 845 years on), it tended to unsettle her usually calm, deific manner.
“Y-yes? What’s going on so late?” she coughed deep in her throat as she started.
A Night Guard, dressed in full uniform, armor, and even the (Celestia thought) silly false bat-wings seemingly demanded of them since the actual Bat-ponies wouldn’t serve anyone other than Princess Luna, stood at attention.
She saluted the solar sovereign, and whispered, “Your Highness, there has been another incident.”
Celestia suppressed a yawn. “If it’s anything to do with the Swans, tell them their ceremony is still weeks away. And if Spell Nexus wants to go over the Gifted Unicorn entrance exams again, tell him I’m considering banishment in lieu of turning him into stone. Goodnight.”
And with that, the door swung closed, leaving Celestia to trudge back towards bed.
The guard, never flinching, at least physically, leaned forward and knocked again. She followed with a slightly louder whisper. “Ma’am. There has been another incident. Following the last one.”
Realizing that perhaps… mentioning the name would motivate the Princess a bit more than sparing her emotional state, the guard added, “Sunset Shimmer has retur- “
The Princess’ private door suddenly flashed with golden light and wrenched itself open so hard that the hinge nails snapped and fired out into the hall. The guard, nobly stoic, only blinked at the sudden crashing sound and displacement of air. But even she began to nervously step backward from what stood in the sovereign’s room.
Princess Celestia, singular ruler of Equestria for almost one thousand years, had perfected a series of ‘faces’ she showed to those she ruled. Usually, this face was that of a benevolent mother-figure, or a wise and all-knowing teacher. Tonight, however, it was a very different face. Tonight, this guardsmare looked upon a face that had sent armies fleeing and pompous nobles scrambling for cover. This was a face of rage and venom.
“Bring her to my study,” she intoned with the finality of an order for execution, “I will make ready.”
It had been two days since Sunset Shimmer escaped.
Celestia paced in her throne room. The moonlight lanced through the windows as sharp as knives cutting through the dark, falling across the agitated alicorn as she moved up and down the hall. She had quickly brushed her mane and washed out any sleep that might have survived the news of Sunset’s return, and now she paced to buy herself time for the next onslaught.
For it would be an onslaught. Sunset Shimmer… that name conjured in Celestia’s mind the image of a proud, even arrogant unicorn mage. Her own student, but who always seemed to think herself the teacher. It had been weeks since Celestia realized Sunset could not be easily returned to a nobler path, that she would be wholly unsuited for the destiny required of her. The fact that she stole into Celestia’s library and performed research on the Mirror even after the Princess had forbidden it, had merely been the final straw. An excuse, more like, to finally send her away.
At this thought, Celestia glanced through the windows, and beheld the moon. Its beauty was undeniable, even marred by the shadow of an alicorn princess upon its face.
Excuse was right, Celestia deflated slightly. She should have sent Sunset away weeks ago. Perhaps months or even years, and she could have helped her wayward pupil. Perhaps spending some time elsewhere, making friends, and seeing the world would have aided Sunset Shimmer. Instead, she’d attacked the guards and fled into one of Starswirl’s mirrors, vanishing into another world entirely.
Celestia was good at pushing those she… those she cared about away, it seemed.
A silver-maned unicorn stallion, dressed in the official robes of the palace’s night administration, entered the throne room from the main door. As soon as he knew Celestia was looking at him, he warily announced, “Princess? The prisoner has been waiting nearly an hour. The Night Guard are worried she might try to escape again.”
Drawing steel into her mind again, Celestia shook her head and said, “No, she won’t. She would not return just to flee again. Perhaps my little pony has seen the error of her ways?”
“I doubt that,” Sir Perfunctory Adjutant rolled his eyes, “In all the years I’ve served, Sunset has never once admitted wrongdoing without you dragging an apology out of her first.”
“That…” Celestia allowed herself a sigh, “is most unfortunately true. I only wish I could have been stronger with her.”
Adjutant frowned at this. “Nopony would ever blame you, my liege. You treated her like… well, like a daughter!”
“But she did not need a mother,” Celestia began making her way from the room and towards her intended target, “She needed a teacher.”
“My liege,” Adjutant, as noble as he presented himself, had short legs, and so began to trot quickly to keep up with his determined sovereign, “what shall I have the Guard prepare for?”
Celestia cast him a glance, but continued apace.
“What shall be done with Sunset Shimmer?” he asked again.
“I have not yet decided,” she said without inflection or emotion at all, “Exile would have sufficed, but her attitude and how she left here before…”
Adjutant nodded to himself. Yes, beating down the guards and hopping through a magical artifact to escape banishment… it wasn’t the best way to get a good job recommendation after the fact, he considered. Not that he would know, inheriting the position he held now.
Something else troubled the official though. “Princess, there’s something odd about Sunset.”
She snorted, but said nothing.
“She seemed different when I saw her to your study,” he continued, a little winded as they made their way up a set of stairs that rounded a corner of the palace, “Not calm or anything like that, but certainly not as wild or angry as before. She seems like a different pony!”
They made a final turn and found the large doors to Celestia’s study flanked by over two dozen Night Guard. Earth ponies were armed with spears and swords held either in their leg-crooks or in their teeth. Pegasi had readied shields on their wings. And the unicorn members of the guard held their horns ignited in magical light, no doubt prepared to leap into action with a moment’s notice.
Celestia motioned for Adjutant to stop where he was, and she continued forward. “That will be all, Perfy.”
‘Perfy’ sighed, watching the Princess regally step past the guards and into the room before shutting the door behind her. He personally hated the nickname, but could never hold it against her. Still, thoughts of Sunset tugged at his mind. Perhaps it had been the lighting, but he could have sworn there was something else off about the former student.
The study was far less imposing or richly appointed as the rest of the palace. It was never meant to be in the public view and served largely as a place where Celestia and one or two intimate guests or friends could spend time away from official business. It was covered wall to wall with ancient oak shelves filled with books (poetry and fiction mostly, but also a number of personal journals and correspondences written by Celestia’s oldest friends and acquaintances, now long gone), as well as trinkets, knick-knacks, and busts of ancient ponies and other creatures. There was a grand fireplace, the only source of illumination at the moment as it roared with fresh burning wood, surrounded by a set of two couches and three chairs, all crafted from the softest, comfiest materials in all of Equestria and stuffed with cumulus clouds.
Sunset Shimmer sat beside the fireplace, on the furthest right-hoof side. Celestia couldn’t see much but her striking golden and red-striped mane sticking out from the chair, as her back was to the door. If Sunset stirred at all, even Celestia couldn’t tell.
The Princess stared at the back of the chair, rather than the unicorn she’d raised from a filly who occupied it. She couldn’t tell if she was angry at Sunset’s betrayal, or happy to see her once more, and until she decided on that conflict within her, Celestia was content to stand by the door and observe.
Finally, one won out.
“I am glad to see you have returned to us, my former student,” she began to say with a tense tone that reminded one of a dam holding back a flood, “While your dismissal stands, I could not help but feel some small remorse over how we parted ways.”
Nothing. Sunset seemed content to remain silent.
Celestia continued, “Sunset Shimmer. Your arrogant disregard for my… lessons is what eventually showed me that you did not appreciate what I was trying to teach you.” She shook her head sadly. “It is clear to me now that I erred in selecting you as my student. You would have been better off remaining in the orphanage, to be adopted into a loving home.”
Still nothing. Not a word. It was as though Sunset were… were the one who was waiting for an apology. How… how dare she?
Hot tears began to build in Celestia’s eyes. Tears of anger. “Did you wish to break my heart, Sunset? Your dismissal originally was born of my disappointment in you, but then you had to go and attack my guards! Leap into that portal to Starswirl-knows-where! Sunset Shimmer, how are you supposed to…”
The silence persisted. And persisted. And… Sunset had never, not once in her entire life allowed anypony to speak to her like Celestia was now.
“… Sunset?” worry crept into the Princess’s voice.
Celestia took one step forward. Was… was Sunset even moving? Did something happen? She could hear nothing from that side of the room, save for the fireplace. She craned her ears towards her former student and heard… nothing.
That was, until her ears began to pick up a second sound in the room. Just over the crackling fire.
“Are…?” Celestia ground her teeth together, “Are you snoring!?”
The alicorn snorted, all thoughts of sorrow, forgiveness, friendship pushed aside. She stormed forward, stepping over one of the couches in a fluid motion.
Celestia dipped into the Royal Canterlot Voice. “Sunset Shimmer! Do you mock us!?” Yet as her voice struck the air like thunder, the Princess gasped and drew back.
The mare, softly snoring a moment ago, snapped wide awake.
“Ahhhh!” She leapt up out of her seat, cyan eyes flying open as she bounced up into the air and came crashing back down to the floor.
“Oof!” she snarled with more… husk than Celestia remembered, “I’m up! I’m up!”
Princess Celestia’s eyes also flew open. Her anger vanished in an instant. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. Was this Sunset Shimmer?
Oh, it certainly looked like the Sunset that Celestia had raised from a filly. But now that she could face the unicorn head on, the Princess could see that this could not be the case. This mare was… old! Her golden coat was marred by silver threads. Her mane had been dimmed, no longer the lustrous gold and red of youth. Her eyes drew lines all across the mare’s face, and her whole body seemed to sag with the weight of time, as though she were a… a skeleton wearing a costume.
This was not Sunset Shimmer. It was not possible.
The elderly imposter returned to her hooves, grunting and sighing. “I am so glad my hips made the trip through the mirror,” she said, then turning an agitated glare up at the alicorn, “Celly, what’s the big idea scaring me like that!? You know my heart can’t take all this fuss!”
Celly? Hips? What? What?!
“Who are you?” the Princess finally recovered enough sense to ask the imposter, “Where is Sunset Shimmer?”
The elderly mare tilted her head and looked on quizzically. Then, a smile drawing out the lines across her face, she laughed, “Oh boy! You almost had me with that! I thought you’d run into another one of those memory stones!”
The unicorn, not without some apparent discomfort, turned to take in more of the room. “Love what you’ve done to the place, by the way. It almost looks just like your old study did back in Canterlot. Feeling nostalgic?”
Celestia sat back on her haunches. “I… I don’t understand. What are you talking about? This is my study.”
“And what’s with the guards?” the Not-Sunset continued as she began to walk besides the bookshelves, apparently taking in the titles, “Is Twilight ‘Twilighting’ over the Two Sisters Festival again? Did Tirek or Cozy come back? Well, better get some new ones. These ponies are so paranoid they jumped me as soon- hey!”
Celestia watched the unicorn excitedly snatch a book off the shelf with her… crimson-hued magic. She spun the thin text in place and seemed to quickly analyze its cover. “When did you get another copy of Clover’s Diary? And Volume 4? I thought Twilight had this thing locked up in the restricted section?”
The imposter suddenly felt a hot wind wrap itself around her as a golden aura picked her up and hauled her into the air. She was pulled along, and brought eye-to-eye with a particularly upset alicorn princess.
“Enough!” Celestia shouted, “We would have you explain this now! Where is Sunset Shimmer and who are you!?”
The elderly mare’s eyes were open wide, staring into Celestia’s own. They held a look of fear. Good. But they also seemed so…
“C-Celestia?” the not-Sunset stammered, voice cracking, “what’s wrong? It’s me, Sunset.”
The alicorn set the imposter down onto the floor. “No! No, you are not! My Sunset is a sweet, misguided filly who ran away from her home!” Tears threatened to breach the containment of Celestia’s soul, but she pressed on, “She is young, and smart, and scared, and lost somewhere without me, so I want to know just who the horsefeathers you think you- “
And then, she saw it. Clear as day. Emblazoned onto the… onto Sunset’s flank was the very gold-and-red sun that Celestia had always cherished seeing on her star pupil. The sign that she and Celestia were more than mere student and teacher.
“Sunset?” she could only whisper as she stared down at the mare before her, an old mare whose tears welled up in her ancient, but no less familiar eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Sunset asked, gazing up at her dear, dear friend, “It’s like you don’t know me…”
Great white wings surrounded Sunset and pulled her closer, taking her up into the forelegs of her once-mentor. Celestia’s hug was, as always, warm and comforting. Sunset swore she could feel a wet tear tapping the top of her mane.
“Oh Sunset,” Celestia sighed quietly, “my Sunset… what happened to you?”
Nuzzling the princess’ coat, Sunset asked, “What do you mean? Is my hair- I mean, mane messed up?”
“No, Sunset,” Celestia tightened her grip on the mare, “You’re… old!”
Sunset pushed aside Celestia’s forelegs and stepped backwards, awkwardly, like she was trying to walk exclusively with her hind legs. She glared up into the alicorn’s eyes. “Rude! Not all of us can be immortal. I don’t go around telling you to lay off the red velvet!”
“What?” Celestia gasped, “Sunset, I don’t understand! You weren’t like this two days ago!”
“Two days? I haven’t seen you in two years! What are… you…?” Suddenly, a calculating look came over Sunset’s features. She tried to sit back on her haunches, only to lose her balance and come back down onto three hooves. One foreleg lifted up, however, and began to tap Sunset under her chin as she slowly allowed her gaze to sweep over the study’s walls and shelves.
“This… this isn’t Silver Shoals, is it?” she asked slowly, like a weary tourist finding out they went to the wrong hotel, in the wrong city.
Celestia squinted at her student, “Why would I have a replica of my study in Silver Shoals? Why would I be in Silver Shoals?”
“Because,” Sunset locked her eyes on the top of Celestia’s mane, “Wait… your crown!”
“My crown? What about my crown?”
“You have one!”
Celestia, already deeply, deeply confused by her student’s apparent chronological deterioration and now babbling, snorted and glared back, “Why wouldn’t I have my crown?”
Sunset’s eyes seemed to grow wider as she stared at Celestia. Before long, her pupils were merely pinpricks. She licked the inside of her mouth, to try and regain some moisture, and then slowly asked, “Princess? What year is it?”
“Excuse me?”
Sunset rushed to Celestia, planting her front hooves as high up on the alicorn as she could reach, like a foal reaching for their mother. “How long ago did you banish Luna? How many years?”
“Sunset!” The hurt, plain in Celestia’s eyes, bled straight into her voice.
“Please!” Sunset begged, “It’s important!”
Celestia took a deep breath, and let it slowly out through her nostrils. “It has been nine-hundred and- “
“Oh Faust,” Sunset dropped solidly back onto her haunches, “I’m in the past.”
Realization, it would seem, dawned for both alicorn and unicorn at once. While Sunset sat silently on the floor, pondering her predicament, Celestia’s mind raced. She started with a quick mental catalogue of every book she recalled Starswirl writing on the methods and theories of time travel, and quickly devolved from there to various treatise on whether or not Starswirl was on the right track (or if he even existed but let’s shelve that), philosophical and magical discussions and reports on the phenomena, all the way down to a Power Ponies comic Celestia had guiltily read while waiting at a dentist’s office once thirty years ago.
This wasn’t possible. Time travel didn’t…
Well. She supposed that it might work exactly like that.
“How?” was all she could muster into the silence.
Sunset seemed to finally notice Celestia was still sitting before her. “I’m not sure. I just hopped through the mirror to come visit you when your guards jumped me.”
“Visit?”
“Oh,” Sunset grinned, “I guess… that might take an explanation, huh?”
Celestia nodded slowly. “I would appreciate that.”
Sunset finally stood up, a little more slowly and with less grace than Celestia recalled from her student. “You… wanna take this out into the gardens? This fire’s a little too much for my old bones. Gonna fall asleep again.” She trotted around the furniture and over to the door, leaving a still confused and shocked Celestia behind her.
As the study-doors creaked open, Sunset walked into the halls and straight into a wall of spears and mystical auras. She turned slowly, left to right, a touch of confusion on her face. Then, she let loose a low chuckle and flashed a mischievous grin to the squadrons of armed guardponies.
“Fellas,” she said, “I don’t like your odds. You’re looking at the mare who used to spar with Starlight Glimmer herself!”
The guards moved not an inch. In fact, had they not seen their Princess approach calmly from behind the intruder, they might have even attacked.
Sunset, with a knowing look, chuckled. “But since you wouldn’t know her yet, I’ll make this easy.” She held up her left hoof and drew a circle counterclockwise in the air before her, saying, “Tempus Protesta!”
Near the back of the guardponies, one unicorn captain suddenly shifted in place. He quickly pulled back his helmet and retrieved from its secret compartment a small, badly damaged book. He hoofed through the pages quickly, then stopped. Seeming to take in the text before him with a critical eye, he slowly nodded.
“It checks out,” he said to the assembled guards, “Back to barracks!”
The pack of guards, clearly itching for a fight they would never have, grumbled as they put up their weapons, doused their horns, and swiftly took up a marching file. Their hoofbeats could be heard echoing through the palace halls all the way back to their quarters.
Celestia, mouth hanging open, stared at her former student. “What… what was that?”
Sunset turned back to her friend and smiled, “Old Starswirl liked his contingency plans. When he and the Pillars wrote your guards’ original guidebooks and oaths, he slipped in a few orders that time travelers could use to get the guard’s help without causing too much damage to the timeline.”
“But… but…” Celestia stuttered, “Why didn’t he tell me about any of this?”
“Oh, you told him not to, in about thirty-five years,” Sunset giggled not unlike a schoolfilly, “Since you didn’t remember meeting time travelers… well, before now, anyway.”
Celestia shook her mane, and allowed herself a small smile, “I suppose I’ll have to take, um, my word for it.”
They stood in a secluded part of the Canterlot garden, on the complete opposite side as the statue of Discord. Sunset had requested that personally. It would cause less fuss in the future. The weather was perfect, a cool breeze under a full moon and not a cloud in the sky. Such were the benefits of a world with weather on demand.
Sunset didn’t doubt there were still guards lurking in the bushes and just around the other statues. She could pick out where a few of them were, none being the bizarrely stealthy batponies who would eventually return to castle service. Still, she knew they’d keep the confidence of this conversation.
“So, I’m sure there’s a lot I can’t ask about,” Celestia eventually brought herself to say. “Paradoxes and all that.”
“Hm, you’d think so,” said Sunset, slowly walking in between two lemon trees so short they were more like bushes, “but then… I traveled without an actual spell, and the Tree would probably prevent the changes from taking effect anyway.”
“Tree?”
“Tree of Harmony,” Sunset sniffed a lemon to check for ripeness. Deciding against it, she kept walking. “It doesn’t like time travelers messing with the timeline. So says Twilight, but she’d know best.”
Celestia nodded, with some amount of clarity. “Ah, I always wondered about the Tree…”
She watched Sunset walk directly into a hedge, then rebound with a sputter, “Oh! Come on! Where is it?”
“Where is what?” Celestia raised a quizzical eyebrow at the odd mare.
“Where’s the false hedge?” Sunset spat out another leaf, “You put in a little tea garden right here!”
The immortal alicorn tilted her head. That… was actually not a bad idea. She silently went over the old blueprints for the gardens. Spring Roll had built the gardens over five centuries ago, and she’d cherished occasionally looking over her work. In her mind’s eye, Celestia could see one of the few mistakes in the gardens’ design; a little unused space behind a hedge…
With a wave of her horn, Celestia incinerated a perfectly door-shaped space in the hedge.
“Well,” Sunset sighed, brushing a bit of ash from her muzzle, “I guess now I know when you added that…”
They entered the newly accessible space, with Celestia raising an illusionary hedge behind them at Sunset’s insistence. This space in the gardens was completely overgrown by grass and tangled weeds.
Sunset winced, “Um… you wouldn’t happen to know Grisella’s Gardening Spell, would you?”
“I do,” Celestia looked down at her little pony, “But you used to be quite skilled in its use, as I recall only last week. Do you remember the work I had you do for the Gala this year?”
Sunset laughed, though a bit sheepishly, “I haven’t practiced Equestrian magic like that in years. I’m liable to set the grass on fire as much as cut it back.”
Celestia gave her once-wayward student an odd look, but then shrugged and removed the lengthened vegetation. She watched Sunset lay out on the freshly cut grass with a contented sigh… and allowed herself a moment to smile.
“Does it look this way from… when you’re from?”
Sunset sighed, happy to find a soft spot to snuggle down into, “You set out some nice seats and a tea-set… but Twilight had it replaced with beanbags and reading-tables.”
Celestia nodded, “There’s that name again. I don’t recall ever meeting a Twilight.”
Sunset chuckled, “Oh… give it a week. I think your Gifted Unicorn School entrance exams will be… interesting this year.”
“How interesting?” Celestia knelt down next to Sunset.
Sunset closed her eyes, and smirked, “She passes the dragon egg test.”
Celestia was silent. “The… the dragon egg?”
“Yup.”
“Sunset,” Celestia furrowed her brows again, “there’s no such thing as a ‘pass’ for the dragon egg test. It isn’t even a real egg!”
Sunset snorted, “I know that! You told me it was a sort of ‘character test’,” she shook her mane, “I swear, that never stopped being funny once I put it together.”
Celestia nudged Sunset with a wing, “Alright, spill. How does she ‘pass’ an unpassable test?”
“She changed the rules,” Sunset opened one eye and watched Celestia with a practiced ‘I know something you don’t’ look, “Don’t worry… you end up liking Spike a lot.”
Celestia took a moment to let that little nugget sink in. “She… made a real egg?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s…” Celestia looked like she was trying to pull something far, far off into focus. Her face scrunched up, and her eyes narrowed on the horizon. But after a moment, she looked down at Sunset and finished her thought, “Such magical potential is indeed amazing… but that still doesn’t explain who this mare is.”
Sunset sighed again, “Isn’t it obvious?”
When Celestia said nothing, Sunset smiled, “She’s my replacement.”
The alicorn’s jaw dropped, and a nauseous look overcame her face. “Sunset…” she whispered, “I… I never would have… I couldn’t.”
But this only made Sunset chuckle again, a light laugh of somepony who’d seen it all and still marveled at the naivete of a child, “Oh don’t worry. I’m over it. Besides, you had good reasons.”
“What reasons? Sunset, I’m so sorry…”
“Stop!” a touch of anger flashed through Sunset’s tone, so different from the petulant anger Celestia was used to from her pupil. It sounded like the frustrated voice of a doctor dealing with a difficult patient.
“Celestia,” she turned her slightly faded eyes up towards her friend, “I am fine. Any bitterness or heartache I held towards you was buried decades ago, from my perspective. Just… just accept that I’m not mad anymore.”
A mischievous smirk came back to the golden unicorn, “Well… I’m not angry anymore. My daughters always tell me I’m completely off my rocker…
“Hm…” Sunset shook her mane again, “I suppose Twilight would be your replacement too.”
A set of white wings fell across Sunset, completely enveloping her. She smiled in the darkened space, remembering Celestia’s way she used to remind Sunset to stop rambling on a subject.
The solar diarch reached her head down towards her pupil, “I… know this Twilight character is important. I get that. But…” a smirk of her own came on swiftly, before it morphed into a full-blown troll-grin, “daughters…?”
Sunset tilted her head with mock-scorn, “Oh Princess. Just like you to hear about an alicorn force of nature from the future… and still think of my love life first. You old gossip!”
The princess nuzzled her once, before returning to her sitting position besides the elderly mare. She made sure to press their sides together, and laid a gentle wing over Sunset’s withers.
“What can I say? I was always a little hopeful you’d find somepony to make you happy,” Celestia said, then with a touch of sadness, “Even though I needed you for… what I thought was our destiny… I always felt a little guilty that as my student you wouldn’t get to live a normal life. And find normal relationships with those around you.”
A hoof draped lightly across her own foreleg. The Princess looked into Sunset’s eyes.
Then, Sunset said, “Yeah, you bucking sucked at that.”
“I-I beg your pardon!?” Celestia’s face flushed suddenly.
Sunset just laughed again, “Well, yeah! That, plus my own ego and pride are what ended up driving me out of here!
“Gentle reminder,” she grinned, “Twilight needs friends. So as soon as she starts asking about Nightmare Moon, ship that mare off to Ponyville.”
Celestia’s anger faded, replaced by a strange mix of emotions. It was like talking to Starswirl again, where every question had an answer, but every answer just added more questions. She was having a conversation with somepony who knew how the conversation ended before it started. How was that fair?
“You seem to be on remarkably good terms with this Twilight,” Celestia said, looking for an answer without more questions, “Considering she’s our so-called replacement.”
Sunset seemed to think about that one for a second. Tapping her chin with one hoof, she hummed as she thought, before saying, “Twilight is… special.”
“She can make a real dragon egg out of a cheap bit of plastic,” Celestia snorted, “but magic isn’t everything.”
“You’re right there,” Sunset smiled. “Twilight… how do I put it? She just makes everyone better. I knew her for less than three days and she turned me from the angry, bitter, jealous mare you know now… not to mention a full-blown demon… into what I am now… minus a few bits of plastic and metal,” she added with another chuckle, tapping her hip with a free hoof.
“Did you even know what you’d do with the Elements?” she added, raising her eyebrows up at Celestia, “Because I bet you were just gonna toss Nightmare Moon back to her prison.”
Celestia’s face fell slightly. She glanced back up at the moon… the mare in the moon…
“I… I supposed it would be that, or stone,” she finally whispered.
“Same,” Sunset said nonchalantly, “And yet… Twilight found another way.”
She felt a weight on top of her mane. Glancing up, Sunset watched Celestia rest her head atop her own.
“Alright… I’ll give her a shot,” the Princess hummed, only millennia of practice keeping her face from shining like the sun itself, “But only because you said so. Now!” she shot up, and with a flash of golden, magical light, a whole tea set teleported right to the two resting ponies.
“Gossip!” she smiled, “You thought you could avoid talking about yourself by mentioning this other pony, but I heard you say daughters! So out with it!”
The two were left in a fit of giggles. They stood up and inspected the tea-set. It was clearly from Celestia’s private kitchen, with a dozen flavors of tea arrayed around a magically self-heating pot. Sunset poured Celestia a jasmine, while she got herself a green.
The two sat under the night sky, each happily awaiting their tea to soak while the stars spun slowly above them. Sunrise would be a few hours yet, and until then they would enjoy themselves.
“So, what are their names?” Celestia eagerly got to it.
Sunset sipped at her cup before answering, “The oldest is Watchlight. Her dad’s idea…”
Celestia’s ears twitched, “Sounds like a guard’s name…”
“Different universe, different species, but… yeah.” Celestia nodded at this, recalling Starswirl’s notes on some of the strange creatures who dwelt in many of the worlds beyond the mirrors.
“The youngest though, is my little sunshine… we called her Sunny Skies,” she peaked over the top of her cup, hoping to catch Celestia’s eye.
It was caught. “I…” Celestia paused, quite confident she had never shared that particular, and particularly old alias with anypony. Not in centuries. It was one of her oldest names, in fact.
She finally found the words, “I’m not sure I like the idea of waiting so long to get to know you this well, Sunset.”
“We all go the long way around,” the unicorn said, “but with time travel, some of us are just aware of it more.”
“About that…”
Sunset held up a hoof to forestall any questions down that line of thinking, “Nope! Twilight banned all forms of time travel years ago. She even made it retroactive.”
“Well,” Celestia huffed, “We’ll see about that! I’ll just retroactively make it legal again.”
“Paradox,” Sunset said simply.
“But…”
“Paradox!” Sunset blew a raspberry. “Besides, the Tree doesn’t like it, and I think Starlight boobytrapped the Time-Space Continuum just in case.”
“You mentioned her before as well,” Celestia sipped daintily at her tea, “And don’t think talking about her will get you off telling me about the grandfoals…”
Sunset rolled her eyes, “Just another in a long line of villains Twilight ends up saving from themselves and converting to the magic of Friendship.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
The two shared another quiet chuckle beneath the stars.
“So…” Celestia grinned.
“Too many,” Sunset returned the look, “Half a dozen, and then dozens of great-grandkids beside.”
The Princess’ head spun. “I’ve changed my mind… that sounds exhausting…”
That got Sunset going, laughing so hard she started coughing. And coughing. And coughing. When Celestia moved to help, Sunset just held up a hoof and continued.
Soon enough, her breathing was back to normal, but the mare looked truly… exhausted. She lay back down on the grass and just took deep breaths until she could look up at a concerned face again.
“Sorry about that,” she muttered weakly, “and we were having such a good time too…”
Celestia had spent centuries watching other ponies be born, grow old, and then… and then… well, she knew the signs.
“Sunset?” was all she said.
Sunset Shimmer snorted softly, her breath pushing a single blade of grass down.
How much longer would that be true, she thought?
“I wanted to come and see you again,” she said slowly, eyes climbing up to the eternal night sky, “I wanted to see you, and Luna, and Twilight, and all of my friends. I wanted to see Ponyville, and Canterlot. I wanted to see the Crystal Empire.
“Just… one more time,” she finished, then turned her face away. After so long, she still hated the Princess seeing her tears.
But the Princess wouldn’t have it. She lay down beside Sunset again, and gently brushed the tears aside with a wingtip. “My Sunset,” she whispered, “Why must it be one more time?”
It wasn’t really a question.
Sunset briefly thought back to that day a month ago… and yet sixty years hence.
“The doctors back in my world say there’s nothing more to do,” she finally said, “I’ve got a good three to six moons…”
There was that pressure again, accompanied by something Sunset hadn’t heard before. Celestia was always good at hiding the worst of her grief, but here, in the dark, her soft cries were still audible through the muffle of Sunset’s mane.
“Say now,” Sunset managed a crooked grin, then said with all the compassion she could, “I’m the one dying here, Celly. You’re being awfully inconsiderate.”
“I just…” the Princess pressed her eyes into the unicorn’s mane, “I feel like I just got you back. And now…”
“And now,” Sunset rose a little on her haunches, and took Celestia’s face in her hooves, “Now you have over sixty years to keep me… barring a decade or so until I get my head on straight in the meantime.”
“But if you didn’t get here with a spell, how will any of your friends know when to come and find you? I’m sure you can’t… can’t stay?”
Sunset shook her head, “No… not yet, anyway.” She smiled, then sat back down to face her friend, “Just mark it on your calendar, and they’ll know when to come back.”
Celestia rubbed away a little of her tears, then gave Sunset a questioning look, “Not yet?”
“I’ve made all my goodbyes,” Sunset nodded, “back in the other world. That was part of the reason for coming to see you. The other part… was to ask if you had any room at your place to put up with an old woman… mare who wanted to spend her last days with you.”
“But your family…” Celestia began, only to find a hoof touching the end of her muzzle.
“My kids and grandkids know they can always follow me home if they need me,” Sunset smiled, “They all know I’m staying with their Gram-Gram.”
A frown slouched onto Celestia’s features. “Please don’t tell me that’s actually what they call me.”
“Your idea, actually.”
Celestia shook her head softly, “So… alicorns do become senile eventually. Another age-old question solved…”
She returned her face to a soft smile. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to get used to it,” she winked, “Paradoxes, and all that.”
The sun was just rising over the hedges, a bit reluctantly on the Princess’ part since that meant their lovely night had to end, when a peculiar thing occurred. Not an unexpected thing, but peculiar nonetheless. Celestia had, after all, never seen a time portal before.
It opened up a little way away from the Princess and Sunset, still in the small, empty, secret grove Celestia had decided to make into a secret tea-garden, hovering in the air. The two waited only a moment for two shapes to descend from the portal to the grass beneath, one carrying a smaller form with her.
The first was… well, Celestia had seen herself in a mirror, so there wasn’t any question as to who this first alicorn was. This new Celestia bore no regalia, however, instead wearing a bright sundress and pulling her mane up into an ethereal pastel braid.
Celestia was concerned at first. She’d never seen herself look so… happy. Retirement, never once having entered the immortal’s mind… suddenly didn’t seem so bad.
The second alicorn though, took the Princess’ breath away. Her hair was a midnight hue with a bright pink streak through its incredible length, and her coat was a lovely shade of violet. Her own regalia was well-fitted, and the soft winds of magic which blew around and through her sang with power.
The third traveler appeared to be an elderly unicorn. She was lavender of coat, and had a purple mane with a light-blue streak. And as she scampered down to the ground from her place atop the purple alicorn, she started speaking.
“Alright,” she said, “If Celestia remembered correctly…”
“Excuse me?” the alabaster alicorn hummed in mocking scorn.
“… then Sunset should have dropped into this garden only a moment… ago?”
The three time-travelers looked up from where they landed, and took in the sight of a younger Celestia standing besides the more familiar Sunset. Both waved their hooves at their future self and companions.
“Eugh,” Starlight Glimmer sighed, “Not again…”
She turned her glare up at her Celestia. “You seemed very sure of when Sunset arrived in the past.”
“I was.”
Starlight pointed an accusatory hoof towards Sunset and the younger Celestia, “So what about this?”
The elder Celestia smirked, “I just said I knew right when she arrived. I didn’t say anything about giving you the right time.”
“Knowing myself,” the younger Celestia chuckled, “I suppose I wouldn’t want to trade away last night for all the paradoxes in the world.”
“And,” said older Celestia, looking straight at her dear friend Sunset, “it gave me plenty of time to… make peace with things. And get your room set up.”
She smiled, “I suppose I’m still a little lazy when it comes to those sorts of things.”
Starlight scowled, “Sunset… what did you tell her?”
“It’s fine,” Sunset waved down her concerns with a hoof, “You know the Princess can keep a secret.”
The older Celestia nodded, “I can vouch for her.”
Starlight just pouted, “Fine… fine. Let’s just have a good laugh at old Starlight’s expense. Just tell me when you’re ready to head back. And let’s be snappy about it. I don’t want to stay too long and, I don’t know, destroy the world again.”
The grove alighted with the laughter of three alicorns and a red-and-gold maned unicorn. But in the quiet that followed, the Celestia of this time approached the one yet unnamed visitor. She stared at the purple alicorn, without a doubt in her mind as to her identity.
“So… this is the famous Twilight Sparkle,” she mused with a smile on her lips. She noted the ethereal mane, and then said, “Seems to check out. I’m looking forward to meeting you, your highness.”
Twilight merely nodded, serenely, “It will be the honor of my life, Princess,” and then threw a tiny wink over to her own Celestia.
The younger Celestia sighed, and looked up into her successor’s eyes, “Well, this has certainly… um…”
That was eerie. Something tickled in the back of her mind. What was that strange sensation? It was like… like she tweaked her neck muscles, and a throbbing ache settled into her withers. She hadn’t felt something like that since… since…
“Sunset,” she almost whispered, “She’s… she’s…”
The older Celestia, a twinkle in her eyes, said with a mix of humor and understanding, “Taller?”
“Yes! That’s it!” Celestia almost pranced in place, surprise and excitement mingling in her voice, “I haven’t had to look up to another creature since Starswirl!” A shadow passed over her features for a moment, “But does that mean Luna…?”
“Nope!” her older self laughed, “And she’ll never stop complaining about it.”
Celestia fought back another tear. Under the sunlight, she had the power to do so this time. “At least I will have the time to have those fights with her,” she smiled.
Then, she leaned down and nuzzled her student, for the last time. “I suppose… I suppose I will have to come around the long way now?”
Sunset returned the affection, and said, “We all do. But you’ll walk it with me once I’m back.”
With nothing else to say, Starlight began to cast her spell.
Celestia sighed as she made her way back to the throne room. Well, she thought, there goes my sleep schedule for at least a day or two.
“Sorry Clockwork,” she whispered to herself, “I wonder if I could stick Cadance on the throne for a catnap…”
The throne room was all aglow as Celestia’s sun beamed through the stain-glass windows. What a difference a few hours in the garden, with the company of another, could have on her mood. Merely last night she’d been pacing here in pain and anger. And now, she felt as light as a filly again.
That was, until she saw her latest assistant, Raven Inkwell, practically trotting in place, a look of crushing anxiety and fear on her features. Better let the poor filly know she was here.
“Raven…” she began, only to hear the marble floor squeak in protest as the young mare skidded to a halt besides her.
“Oh, thank You that you’re here!” Raven almost looked like she was on the verge of tears, “I thought something had happened when I couldn’t find you in your chambers! And all of the guards said they’d last seen you in your private study, but nopony was there, and then the Saddle Arabian ambassador sent word he would be arriving today instead of tomorrow, so… so…”
Raven now seemed to notice she was completely enveloped in cool blackness, her sovereign’s wings shutting out all light.
“Was I rambling again?”
“Just a bit, my little pony,” the solar Princess smiled so warmly that the assistant could almost feel the temperature rise around them. Then, as Celestia pulled back, she said, “I just had an old friend stop by, and we… lost track of time.”
Celestia blinked, and then quickly swiveled her head around a few times. Satisfied that nopony would hear them, she whispered to Raven, “Does Tempus Protesta mean anything to you?”
“Should it?” Raven looked quizzically to her monarch.
“No,” she replied. “It isn’t important.”
Raven nodded, then produced her checklist for the day. Celestia silently cursed checklists, and everypony who liked them.
“Well then, we have a full morning ahead of us, Princess. First…”
Celestia quickly interrupted, “First, I’d like you to send a message to Spell Nexus.”
Another quizzical look as Raven asked, “The head of your school for Gifted Unicorns? Is this about the…?”
“The entrance exams, yes,” Celestia nodded, “I want you to tell him to break out the ‘Dragon Egg’ test this year. He’ll know what that means.”
The unicorn quickly made a note. “And if he asks why?”
“Because I said so,” the Princess chuckled, “And because I’m feeling funny today.”
“I must say,” Raven smiled, “You are looking much better than you have since… um…”
“It’s alright,” Celestia actually leaned down and gave her assistant a friendly nuzzle, “Everything’s going to work out fine. I can tell.”
The morning would drag on, as Celestia knew it would. She had something to look forward to, for once. But living for so long, she also had her ways of coping with the time. She just had to think of the time before her as one long day.
That’s all eternity was, after all. A day. One day she had to make it through. And with this dawn, she had so many things in her coming day to look forward to. A new student to mold into the being she would one day be. Her sister restored to her. Friends, and adventures, and songs, and love and all the things that made eternity bearable. It was all one day.
She just had this one day to wait for the return of her Sunset…
Author's Note
But since it falls,
Unto my lot,
That I should rise,
And that you should not,
I'll gently rise,
And I'll softly call,
Goodnight,
And joy be with you all.
