Most took it as a good omen the night the northern lights appeared in the sky all over Equestria, what with Twilight Sparkle’s recent coronation, and it being so close to Hearth’s Warming. Most Equestrians had never seen the phenomenon, the vast majority having never traveled close enough to the poles to see it occur naturally. In the already festive atmosphere, the lights had a celebratory spirit about them, like a celestial ribbon dance, colors shifting like the scales of a fish; blue, aqua, green, violet, purple, magenta. Their new queen could only be behind it.
Twilight, meanwhile, had spent the past three weeks preparing for her first big diplomatic meeting as a monarch and had no time for planning light shows. The end of the year traditionally called for an annual get-together with rulers and attachés from neighboring countries, whose customs she researched tirelessly as the day approached.
The meeting itself was the most exhausting thing she had done in her entire life. Celestia insisted she would get used to these tense social events, but Twilight found that hard to believe. Still, nothing went disastrously wrong.
Curiously, the stewards of Foalmount were absent. Foalmount was a humble kingdom to the extreme north of Equestria, mountainous and snow-covered. Twilight had met the couple who ruled the frozen kingdom once before and had been looking forward to another meeting. Despite the distance, the people of Foalmount were descended from Equestrian colonists and thus had a lot in common with Equestrians from a cultural standpoint. The stewards were also very friendly, which, had they been able to attend, may have alleviated some of the chilly silences at dinner. Thank Celestia for Cadance and Shining Armor’s attempts to lighten the mood, even if Shining Armor’s informal banter could at times be construed as rude.
When the dinner was concluded, Twilight felt like a brick was removed from her chest. The rulers and delegates were escorted to their rooms and Twilight slipped into her study with Cadance and Shining Armor on her heels. There they found Celestia with a bottle of mulled wine and four glasses.
“This is absolutely not my place to say,” Celestia said softly, pouring a glass, “but I thought you might need a reminder that this is a huge milestone-” she raised the glass “- worthy of celebration.”
Twilight’s heart melted. The only reason Celestia was here was to provide support and guidance, when she had every right to be off on some deserted beach or wherever Luna currently was. Twilight sank into a plush armchair and took the proffered glass.
“Celestia, I wish you had been there,” Cadance exclaimed. “You would have been so proud! Twilight is a natural. I remember the first time I had to host one of those ghastly things- I was a mess.”
Twilight snorted in disbelief.
“A mess,” Cadance insisted. “And I walked into it so casually. A dinner party, I thought. I can do a dinner party! And then you think: ‘Worst case scenario? War. Actual war over, what? A misplaced word? A spilled drink? Burnt spinach puffs?’ Unlikely, I know, but I’m the host and I’d be responsible if anything went wrong!”
Twilight laughed heartily. “What happened to ‘You don’t need to impress them, Twilight! They need to impress you!’”
“I wasn’t about to tell you anything to stress you out right before your first big dinner!” Cadance said slyly, sipping her drink. “And anyway, I was half-right. There’s a certain urgency to impress new royalty; make a good first impression. Although you’ve met most of them before.”
“I doubt you could tell,” Shining Armor added, “but Prince Rutherford is normally much surlier than he was tonight. He was practically a house cat- domesticated, I mean. Used a fork and everything.”
“I’m sorry I missed it,” Celestia smiled her misty smile. “Although I am not at all surprised, Twilight.” She raised her own glass. “You continue to astound and inspire. I could not have asked for a better successor.”
“To Twilight!” Cadance clinked her glass with Celestia’s.
“To Queen Twily,” said Shining Armor, emotion creeping into his voice.
Twilight hesitated, then clinked her glass with theirs, murmuring, “To Equestria.”
Celestia’s smile broadened fondly. “And the wider world beyond.”
The little study suddenly filled with a ghostly green light. All eyes turned to the tall window, out of which they could see the multi-colored ribbon of light twisting its way through the sky.
“… Beautiful,” Cadance whispered, breaking the silence. This was quickly followed by the sound of Celestia’s glass slamming down, spilling droplets of dark wine onto the coffee table. She had gotten to her feet and was across the room before the others had time to process her movement.
“Pri- Celestia!” Twilight stumbled over the old title, rising to follow her. “Is something wrong?”
But she was out the door. Twilight exchanged glances with Cadance and her brother before they gave chase. Easier said than done; Celestia was practically flying down the corridors, heels clicking thunderously, wings rigid, shimmering gown and hair billowing behind her. She must have gotten tired of walking because there was a flash as she teleported.
Twilight, Shining Armor, and Cadance stood in the hallway, dumbstruck.
“What in the world…?” said Cadance.
“Not a fan of northern lights?” muttered Shining Armor.
Twilight took off at a run, prompting startled exclamations from behind her. “I think I know where she was headed!” Twilight shouted over her shoulder. “Something could be wrong!”
It was wasn’t far- a left turn, a right, and another right, and Twilight skidded into the throne room, Shining Armor and Cadance close behind. Celestia was indeed there, standing stock-still in front of the golden throne. Twilight followed her gaze down the cavernous hall and spotted a figure standing in the entryway.
The stranger was tall- very tall, slender, and olive-skinned. She wore a long, wool-lined traveling cloak and her shoulder-length hair was an extraordinary hue, shifting subtly between tones of green, blue, and purple. She was an alicorn.
The concept rolled around in Twilight’s head. An alicorn. One she didn’t recognize- not from experience and not from history books. It was more than interesting. It was more than astounding. She would have settled on impossible if the women weren’t standing there in front of her.
Celestia met Twilight’s gaze and her expression was for a moment conflicted. Then her eyebrows knitted together, and her rigid shoulders dropped slightly in a resigned sort of way. She turned again to the stranger. “Borealis,” she said. “Allow me to introduce you to Queen Twilight Sparkle of Equestria. Twilight, this is Aurora Borealis of Foalmount.”
Twilight made a gesture of greeting toward Aurora Borealis, who stared back at her impassively. The name Foalmount echoed distantly and through the fog of confusion she remembered the missing stewards. Perhaps this alicorn had come in their place? Twilight spluttered a little before finding her voice. “Welcome, uh, you’ve had a long journey. I’ll send word to the kitch-“
“Princess Mi Amore Cadenza,” croaked Aurora Borealis in voice that sounded rough with disuse.
Cadance looked like she’d been shocked with a cantrip. Celestia spoke up before she had a chance to respond. “Oh, yes, forgive me. The visiting princess from the Crystal Empire and her husband, Prince Shining Armor.” The visitor bowed her head slightly, eyes fixed unblinkingly on Cadance. Celestia continued, her voice becoming colder with every word. “I’m afraid you’ve missed the dinner, but you will have the opportunity to converse with all the visiting delegates in the morning. Let me show you to your room.” Celestia stepped forward, gesturing toward a door.
“I came to speak with the Princess Cadance. It is also appropriate that the prince is here.”
Celestia stopped mid-stride and outright glowered at the visitor. Twilight found her uncharacteristic behavior unnerving, and Cadance clearly agreed. “… I would be happy to speak with you,” Cadance said, lapsing into her formal diplomat voice. “Is the matter so urgent that a night’s rest is out of the question?”
Aurora Borealis considered this, apparently with great seriousness. “That would be unwise,” she said after a long moment. “Ideally, I would speak with you and your husband privately-“
“Absolutely not,” Celestia interjected stiffly, then she glanced at Twilight and looked chagrined. “I mean,” she said. “That seems as though it would be up to the discretion of the queen.”
Twilight’s mouth dropped open. She looked between the three other alicorns, bewildered. She had been desperately trying to follow this pinball of a conversation and had still had no clue what exactly was going on. But she had deciphered one thing- Celestia was uncomfortable with leaving any of them alone with this woman. She opened her mouth to speak-
“Very well then,” Aurora Borealis said impatiently. “Privacy is not necessary. If there’s somewhere we could sit…?”
Twilight reluctantly led the way to a breakfast room, smaller than the main dining hall, where a table and chairs stood before a floor to ceiling window. The northern lights continued their dance outside, casting the room in an eerie glow. Twilight’s eyes were drawn again to the visitor’s hair. It matched the lights perfectly in color, glowing like a halo directly under the influence of the lights, colors slowly writhing and blending. Her eyes were a startling red. She hung her cloak on her chair, sat down, and immediately began talking in a business-like tone.
“It comes to mind I may have made a poor impression, and I apologize for that. Also, this may not have been the most appropriate venue. I’ll make this as brief as possible.” She steepled her fingers and rested them on the table. “My name is Borealis. I govern the dimension of time. For the past ten millennia I’ve been monitoring all possible futures and on the rare occasion, intervening. Only when completely necessary.” She paused. “I cannot stress that enough. Only when completely necessary.”
A pregnant silence. Twilight couldn’t help herself. “I have so many questions,” she said.
“No questions,” Borealis said quickly. “No time. Later perhaps. Princess Mi Amore-“
“Cadance,” Cadance interrupted.
“Cadance.” Almost as an afterthought, Borealis nodded at Shining Armor. “My prince. It has become necessary that I provide your daughter with guidance.”
“Woah-“ Shining Armor said at the same time Cadance said “Excuse me?”
“In the coming years she will require rigorous training in order to control her power. I believe you are already aware that her magical development is staggering.”
“I’m sorry, hold on,” Shining Armor rubbed his temples. “I’m getting whiplash here. When did this become a conversation about my daughter?”
“This is so dire a situation that you need to- to ‘intervene?’” Cadance asked incredulously.
“Absolutely.”
“She’s a baby!”
“This is the optimum time,” Borealis said insisted. “Flurry Heart’s power will continue to grow. Unchecked, it will consume her.”
“Wait a moment,” interjected Celestia. “Surely you knew that when she was born?”
Borealis nodded.
“So why didn’t you approach us about this then? It’s been one and a half years.” Cadance and Shining Armor both shot indignant looks at Celestia, clearly thinking she was asking the wrong question here.
“I thought it would be best to wait until some… confounding variables were resolved,” Borealis replied.
“Flurry already has excellent tutors, including an extremely accomplished magician,” Cadance said, voice climbing an octave. “Not that she’s learning much higher magic now. I’ll mention once more- she’s a baby.”
“And we have a charm in place to keep her magic under control in the meantime,” Shining Armor added and Cadance nodded vigorously.
“Yes, about that. You’re going to want to remove that as soon as possible,” Borealis said.
Cadance and Shining Armor exchanged appalled glances.
Celestia studied Borealis’ face. “…You genuinely see no alternative futures.”
Borealis regarded her levelly. “I weigh probabilities. I’d rather not get involved, but that’s a risk I can’t take. A risk none of us can take.”
Twilight spoke up for the first time in a while. “What exactly makes you the only person who can help Flurry Heart?”
“I’m not. But again, looking at probabilities…” Borealis trailed off as her eyes became unfocused and she seemed to consider something. “There are others who can certainly teach her how to control her magic. It won’t be enough. I can keep track of her development by looking at her future trajectory and my perspective is particularly... relevant.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean? Her trajectory?”
“It means…” Borealis gathered her thoughts. “There are paths… an infinite number of paths, some more likely than others. Every decision or random occurrence eliminates some of those paths, creates some new ones. Flurry Heart will spend her life attempting to dodge the more unsavory routes. We all do. Hers just come with greater consequences.” Borealis’ red eyes shown vividly against the green-blue glow of her hair. “That’s the darker side of magic- the underbelly. It can become a vortex that pulls you in. Pulls everything else in if it’s strong enough.”
“I think I know what you’re suggesting,” Cadance said acidly. “My husband and I will consider your offer. I assume you want to live in the palace? How long were you expecting to teach Flurry? How long is ‘necessary,’ I mean?”
Borealis stared at her blankly. “Actually, the best option is that Flurry Heart come with me to Foalmount. For at least the next ten years.”
The silence was deafening, broken by the harsh scrape of Cadance’s chair on the stone floor. She stood there and stared into Borealis’ eyes a moment more. “You must be out of your mind,” she said, and marched out of the room without another word, Shining Armor close behind. The door slammed behind them.
Borealis closed her eyes regretfully. “That was a long shot.”
“It’s amazing,” Celestia said, genuine wonder in her voice. “How can you see all these distant futures, yet you can’t predict the painfully obvious outcome that parents don’t want their child ripped away from them to be raised by a stranger?”
Borealis shot her an irritated look. “I’m particularly distracted, if you must know. This conversation was an important crossroads. I needed it to go well.”
“And?”
“And it went well enough.”
“I’m surprised to hear that,” Celestia tilted her head. “Given how it ended.”
“They’ll come around,” Borealis sniffed.
“They won’t let you take her away,” Twilight said, voice taking on a dangerous edge. “Even if by some miracle they did, I wouldn’t let you.”
“Oh, I know. I mean they’ll warm to the idea of taking me on as a teacher in the palace. On their own, in all likelihood, once they’ve thought it over. If not, I have a few more points of persuasion. I was honestly more worried about being interu-“
“What’d I miss??”
Borealis groaned quietly. Discord was hovering above the table, staring around the room eagerly. Then his face fell and he sank into a cross-legged position on the tabletop.
“…Oh, you’re all just… sitting around,” he pouted, then perked up just as quickly when he made eye contact with Borealis. He reached for her, pinched her cheek and spoke to her like one would a baby. “Aw, Awis, I’m so disappointed…” Borealis jerked her head out of his reach. “You’ve wost youw wittle edge.”
“I was wondering when you’d stick your nose into my business.”
“I’m loving the hair, though,” Discord grinned. “Sorta tomboyish, but also sorta ‘I woke up like this.’”
“You couldn’t predict when Discord would get here either?” Twilight blurted without thinking, but Borealis seemed to take no offense.
“All of Discord’s decisions are somewhat… erratic.”
“That’s riiiiight,” Discord sang, and his facial features all began to swirl around the surface of his head. “I’m an enigma!”
“Interesting,” Twilight mused. “Some people are more predictable than others. So, you have a number of possible decisions someone could make, but some of those decisions are much more likely based on their past pattern of behavior. Can you see everything that’s happened in the past too?”
“I can.”
“Anything, anywhere, at any time- that’s basically omniscience! But you can be distracted,” Twilight said. “Meaning, you can only concentrate on a few things at once. So you have to choose…”
“Uuuuuugh,” Discord moaned. “Boring! I can’t believe I left a possum fight for this!”
“A what?” Twilight said, snapping out of her entangled thoughts. “I can imagine how Fluttershy would feel about that.”
“Hey, hey!” Discord exclaimed, crossing his arms defensively. “It’s their choice to fight! No one’s being forced.”
Twilight looked skeptical.
“The winner gets a pizza,” he added. “But it’s their choice.” He raised his hand, fingers poised to snap, then looked back at Borealis and sent her a wave with his tale. “Ciao, doll! Catch ya later!” Then he was gone, leaving the three alicorns alone.
“So,” Twilight shifted in her chair uncomfortably. “You know Discord too.”
Borealis, who had been having a sort of silent conversation via a long, significant look with Celestia, peeled her gaze away to answer Twilight. “Apparently.” A pause. Borealis got to her feet. “I’ve completed what I needed to do tonight, and it’s actually quite late. If you’ll excuse me-“
“Wait! Just…” Twilight’s head felt like it was full of cotton. “Why are you- I mean yeah, I know you said you think it’s necessary- why is it necessary, exactly?” Something in her chest twisted; she was dreading the answer.
“Well, I do have obligations to Foalmount. I am technically their queen…” Borealis casually threw her on cloak and fiddled with the catch. “And the least I can do is keep it from being annihilated.”
Twilight felt all her muscles go weak. She tried to speak and couldn’t find words, just stared dumbly as Borealis nodded her goodbye to Celestia and walked briskly out the door.
Author's Note
Title inspired by the song Despicable by Grandson.
Cover art and more Borealis concept art can be found on my DeviantArt page
