The Archives were quiet at night.
Outside, guards patrolled the barbican, the palace gate, the throne room, and the many long corridors. They strode along ramparts and glided past minarets. They stood in pairs outside the Princess’s suite. But nopony went into the Canterlot Archives.
Moonbeams cut through the bookshelves from high windows, sprinkling light on the dust that swirled slowly around them. Row upon row of ancient texts, scrolls and tablets, boxes and carvings sat upon the shelves, without even the scratching of a bookwyrm to disturb the calm.
And then, in an aisle between two tall bookshelves, the space twisted, distorting the view of everything behind. It snapped back into place, revealing two ponies who hadn’t been there a moment before.
“You’re getting better at that, Princess,” said the smaller of the two, a pink mare with a warm golden mane.
“It’s best not to get used to it,” replied the taller, a graceful purple alicorn. “Time travel is inherently dangerous, you know that.”
Luster Dawn patted her saddlebag, containing the scroll they’d brought. “Dangerous but necessary. You’re lucky I interviewed Star Swirl for that assignment, or the whole of history might be in trouble. Again.”
“What has happened before must happen again,” said her teacher, Princess Twilight Sparkle.
“Ha! That’s two bits please.”
Twilight blinked. “It wasn’t, was it?”
“That was definitely a cryptic Celestia-ism. Pay up.”
“When we get home,” said Twilight with a sigh. “Sometimes I just can’t help it. She was my role model for so long, it’s so easy to slip into.”
“You taught me that poetry doesn’t equate to wisdom, remember.”
“I know.” A moment of pain crossed her face.
Luster patted her with a hoof. “You miss her?”
“Always. As much as you’d miss me, I’m sure.”
“Well, we should probably get in and out before we end up in her dungeon."
Twilight chuckled and inspected the shelves. “You’re right. Let’s put this scroll where it belongs and leave before we can do any damage. Let’s see, we found the spell in the Star Swirl the Bearded Wing. I think it was near the pegasus magic scrolls…”
She took the left aisle, while Luster wandered down the right. “I thought you said Pinkie found the scroll?” She brushed a careful hoof against shelves full of history. Centuries of accumulated knowledge from all three tribes kept under lock and key.
“You’re not supposed to be here!”
Luster ducked down. Whoever had issued that challenge was on the far side of a bookcase and probably hadn’t seen her. But that voice…
Princess Twilight turned to see her much younger self. The filly couldn’t have been more than twelve. She was standing on tippy-hooves, trying to look taller, and glaring indignantly at her older self.
“Er…”
“The Archives are only for authorised ponies,” she reiterated. “Who are you, and how did you get in here?”
“I… have special dispensation. From the Princess herself,” she added.
I do hereby grant myself special dispensation to enter my own library at whatever time it me behove, thought Princess Twilight hastily. She mentally stamped the permit, making it official.
“If that’s true, why are you sneaking around at night?”
This is unexpected. I don’t remember meeting another pony in the Archives, particularly not myself. I definitely cast the non-diverging version of the time travel spell, so it shouldn’t even be possible for me to change history in any significant way. I guess that means she’s… I’m going to forget all about this.
If that’s the case anyway, then… maybe honesty is the best option?
“I’m… alright, listen carefully, Twilight Sparkle. The truth is that I’m you, from the future.”
The filly squinted at her older self. “Nuh-uh. Because I know all about time travel.”
“You do?”
“And I know that it’s impossible. Nopony has ever been able to make a time travel spell work, not even Star Swirl the Bearded.”
“Ah, well, that’s true…” It was true, technically, Star Swirl never had figured out how to make a working time travel spell – which is why they were there to plant one.
“And ’sides, you don’t look anything like me. So,” the filly continued, punctuating her words by stabbing a hoof in the air, “you can’t be me from the future. It’s ridiculous. So who are you really?”
Princess Twilight took a step backwards. Actually, that may be for the best. If she did believe me she’d ask a lot of questions about her own future – like why I have wings. Still, she’s going to notice my cutie mark any minute. If I’m not using that to prove my identity, I should use it to support another story entirely.
“Well, I’m… somepony who’s a big fan of Star Swirl.” She lifted a fragile folio from the shelves in her aura, and at the same time cast a disguise spell on her flank, so that the glow of her horn from the first obscured the second. Her new cutie mark was an open book overlaid with a swirl of stars.
“So big a fan that you broke into the Canterlot Archives at night?”
“Of course. Haven’t you ever…” She paused. “Wait a minute. You’re not supposed to be here either, are you?”
The filly hesitated. “O- of course I am.”
“You’re supposed to be back in your tower asleep. You’ve got classes in the morning.”
“No I don’t!”
“Let’s see, it’s Wednesday night now, so tomorrow morning would be… magical ethics with Velvet Boot.”
“No it isn’t! And magical ethics is boring anyway. It’s all anecdotes and stuff old ponies said and stern warnings to never have any fun. It’s not like I’ll ever need to use it.”
Ha! You’ll be surprised how often magical ethics is going to come up. It isn’t always as simple as good pony, bad pony. Like that time the kirin ambassador–
An intake of breath and a muffled thump from the adjacent aisle drew their attention.
Was that Luster?
“What was that noise?” asked the filly.
It’s probably best to keep Luster hidden, or this cover story’s going to get more complicated.
“Oh, that was… probably just a bookwyrm, I expect.”
“There aren’t any bookwyrms in the archives. The spells keep them away.” She frowned, a little less certain, and there was a slight tremble as she added, “There… shouldn’t be any.”
“Oh, they’re clever little creatures. They can get into almost anywhere. I had an infestation in my own library once that took weeks to clear out. Every time I thought it was sorted out, I found another one nesting in a grimoire.”
“You have your own library?” asked the filly breathlessly.
Princess Twilight grinned. “I have the best library. There are books in there nopony else has even heard of. Sometimes I just spend whole days hidden away there, reading – until they finally find me.”
“How big is it?”
“Much bigger than the one I used to have, though I still miss that sometimes.”
“How come? How do I get my own library? I’d love to have my own library!”
“Well, being a princess helps.” She turned and fluttered one wing to allow the filly to see.
The filly was unimpressed. “Eh, that’s not so special. My foalsitter was a princess too. Not that I’ve needed a foalsitter in years and years,” she added hastily.
Why, that snotty little…
“Besides,” continued the filly, “plenty of ponies who aren’t princesses have libraries, so that clearly isn’t a condition.”
“That’s true, I suppose I wasn’t a princess when I was first put in charge of a library.”
“If I had my own library I’d spend all day and all night reading, and I wouldn’t need to do anything silly like making friends. And I’d lock the doors so nopony could disturb me.”
Ah, so this is after Celestia gave me the friends talk. The first of many.
Princess Twilight settled down on the floor. “I can see the temptation,” she said, recalling a number of occasions when she’d driven her courtiers to despair by doing just that. The mages always broke through her shields after a day or two. It was good practice for them. “Even so, don’t you feel sorry for those poor books?”
Filly Twilight was confused. “What do you mean?”
“When I see a book, I just feel like it wants to be read, don’t you? It’s full of knowledge waiting to get out, but instead you’ve got them all locked up, gathering dust.” She blew a little dust off a stack of ancient scrolls on a nearby shelf. “What about other ponies who want to borrow books?”
“They can’t. It’s my library. Other ponies aren’t allowed.”
“Well, that’s a shame. All those poor books going unread.”
“I’ll read them all,” insisted the filly. “I’ll just spend all day and night reading, and I’ll read every last one of them.”
“You’re only one pony,” replied the princess. “You can only read one book at once. I think It would be more efficient to let other ponies read them with you. Don’t you think the books would prefer to be read by lots of other ponies? Doesn’t a library full of ponies learning seem better than one where you’re all alone?”
“Other ponies are stupid.”
“They’d be less stupid if you let them read your books.”
“Nopony else gets how to treat a book right. They just leave them all over the place, out of order, upside down. If I had a library I’d organise things my way.”
I do that as well. I’m terrible for leaving books in a mess. And the librarians aren’t afraid of giving a princess a stern talking to. But there’s no point arguing with myself. I know what I was like at that age. And if I did somehow change my mind, I’d be changing history.
“Still, as nice as it is to read alone, some day you’ll realise how good it can be to spend time with your friends as well.”
“Nuh-uh. Time spent being friends and doing… friend stuff is time I’m not reading.”
“You really don’t have to choose one or the other, you know. I manage to read, while also making time in my life for the ponies that matter to me. There’s time enough for both.”
Luster kept her head low and out of sight, listening to the Princess interviewing her younger self.
She didn’t want to move, lest she make a noise and draw the filly’s attention. But standing so close to them was dangerous. She couldn’t even breathe safely. Placing each hoof slowly and carefully, she turned to slip into another aisle – only to find herself face to face with a great white pony.
“Shhh,” whispered the white pony.
Luster gasped and took a step back, her backside colliding with a bookcase. She pressed her fetlock over her mouth to keep from making another sound.
“What was that noise?” they heard the filly say. Luster held her hoof over her mouth to avoid making even a peep. A few seconds later, the conversation seemed to move onto bookwyrms and libraries, and she allowed herself to breathe.
Luster turned back to the white pony, and her eyes widened. She was standing before the great Celestia herself. Rather than angry, the Princess seemed amused. She held a hoof gently over Luster’s mouth, while her horn lit up. A moment later, the sound of nearby conversation became muffled.
“A little sound-dampening spell, nothing more.” She nodded towards the pair of Twilights. “It seems we have something in common,” she said. “Watching Twilight Sparkle. Yours is bigger than mine, though, that’s not fair.”
Luster gulped. “Er…”
“Please relax. I’m not going to eat you, little one. I assume the two of you come from the future?”
“I, er, yes. Sorry, yes, Princess. We… weren’t supposed to meet anyone.”
“Yes, well, I have an alarm spell over this whole wing. It helps to know when intruders slip in – including a certain filly. It seems she’s not going to grow out of that habit any time soon.”
“She does still love to read.”
“It’s interesting to see she’s an alicorn. So there are three princesses in your future.”
“Four. Er… five, actually.”
“Impressive. After so long with just one princess, I wonder how Equestria will cope.”
“There’ve been some… changes. Mostly for the better. Not that I’m criticising your rule! I… should shut up now.”
“Don’t tell me anything else. I’ll just have to find out for myself in time.”
“How did you know we’re from the future? I thought time travel was… unknown.”
“Hardly. I’ve read almost every magical treatise in my time, and almost every story out there. Even if nopony’s achieved it yet, I can recognise the signs. An older Twilight Sparkle is hard to miss. And I don’t remember seeing you around Canterlot either. Are you her personal student?”
“Yes,” said Luster, still not quite believing it.
“It’s good to see her keeping up the tradition.”
“She does a lot of things in your hoofsteps.”
Celestia smiled. “The filly over there idolises me. I guess it’s comforting to know she’ll still respect me when she’s a princess.”
“Always. Nopony looks up to you more than her, I think.”
“You, on the other hoof, are surprisingly composed. You wouldn't believe how many ponies flatten themselves to the ground upon seeing me.”
“I met you once before, Princess.”
“You did?”
“When I was just a filly. That was a few months before your funer…al…”
Luster slammed her hoof over her mouth as she realised she’d said much, much too much.
Celestia for her part was taken aback. She turned away, taking time to collect her thoughts.
“I… Princess, I’m sorry, I…”
Celestia shushed the younger mare. “Shhh. You probably shouldn’t say any more than that, little one.”
She took a breath.
“You really are from the future, then?”
Luster didn’t trust herself to talk, so she simply nodded.
“Then you probably shouldn’t say anything else.
“I’ve faced any number of enemies who declared my imminent death. They each proved wrong, of course.” Celestia shook her head. “Never before has my end been prophesied in so kindly a manner. I find it carries a different weight.”
Luster gulped. She wished she could wipe the last few seconds away, go back to a time when history wasn’t in imminent danger.
“I’ve lived many years,” continued Celestia. “Enough for twenty lifetimes. Time enough to see countless ponies pass away: friends, enemies, lovers and rivals, students and teachers. I could spend weeks and moons simply remembering those gone.
“I knew that would be my lot. From the moment I took this mantle I carry, I knew that it would preserve my life until I was ready to pass it on. And I’ve tried, really I have. I haven’t kept it to myself purely out of greed, like a great wyrm curled around his hoard. I’ve trained students, raised statesmen and adventurers and magicians and bureaucrats, searching for a pony I could trust with this burden. So many times I thought I might finally have found them.
“But every time I thought I’d found a pony I could trust to take it from me, something prevented it. Either they turned away from harmony, or they found something else to live for. I was starting to think it was my instruction at fault. Or that I was just too picky.
“I rejoiced when news reached me of young Cadance’s ascension. A new alicorn! I was sure that she would finally be the one.”
She turned to look through a gap in the bookshelves, to where Twilight was interviewing herself. Luster followed her eyes.
“But it seems that I will soon find such a pony – that I have already found her.” She looked back down at Luster. “And perhaps she’s already found the same thing.”
“What?” blurted out Luster. “Me? No no no, I could never–”
“You could never follow in her hoofsteps? Never be as great and noble and wise as she?”
Luster nodded.
“Believe it or not, I said the same thing once, long ago. And I was right, I had no idea how to run a country, and I made a lot of mistakes. But I figured it out eventually.
“You see that filly over there?” Celestia nodded through the rows where slivers of the two Twilights could be seen through gaps in the shelves. “She’s impulsive, excitable, secretive, obsessive, self-centred… the idea of leaving my kingdom in her hooves is terrifying. But seeing the princess she’ll become gives me hope. The ones we raise can never have the same understanding as us, but we have to trust them anyway. In time, they’ll find wisdom of their own.
“Perhaps I simply needed to see her to know that.”
“But Princess, aren’t you… afraid? Of dying, I mean.”
Celestia hesitated. “I would be lying if I said death had no sting. Even after a thousand years, I have no more idea what lies beyond the veil than any other pony, whatever some of them might think.”
She took a deep breath. “But I’ve had time enough to do nearly everything I might want to do with my life – save for passing my legacy on to somepony. There’s nothing else holding me here.”
“No!” interjected Luster.
“I beg your pardon?”
Luster carefully lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, Princess, but that’s not true. There is something for you to do. In the future. Something to live for. I… probably shouldn’t tell you what it is, but it’s the most important thing.”
“Some great villain for me to defeat? Some terrible danger to my ponies?”
“No. Well, yes, several,” corrected Luster, recalling the many stories she’d heard of the Princess’s adventures, and a few of her own. “But they’re not important. I meant something important to you. Something… I really can’t say any more. Just… don’t give up? Please, Princess?”
Celestia found she had been slouching, and stood a little straighter. “Don’t tell me. I can guess what you might be talking about. And even if I’m misinterpreting your words, the hope is… I had almost given up, but this will buoy me. Thank you.
“It looks like your Twilight might be nearly done. I assume you have something to achieve here, beyond cheering up an old lady?”
“Oh! Yes.” Luster carefully levitated the scroll out of her saddlebag. It had been artificially aged, which among other things made it artificially fragile. “I need to hide this where she can find it. Um… can you do me a favour, Princess?”
“Probably.”
“If Twilight Sparkle asks you about this scroll, it’s been here all along. Okay?”
“That sounds fair. What is it?”
“It’s the time travel spell that Star Swirl never wrote. And I think it goes…” She counted shelves, settling on a spot among the jumble. “Here.”
“Careful,” cautioned Celestia, pulling the scroll back in her own aura.
“What is it?”
“You nearly disturbed a bookwyrm.” She levitated the miniature dragon out of his nest among the books, and placed him gently in the golden cup of her hoof. His warm, parchment-coloured scales shone in the candlelight as he slowly woke up, yawning deeply.
“Aww. I’m sorry, little guy.”
“Let me go put him somewhere safe.” She carried the little wyrm carefully toward the door.
“Psst!” Princess Twilight whispered from the corner behind Luster. “Are you ready?”
Luster pushed the scroll into place, then nodded. “Yep. Are you?”
Twilight’s eyes strayed to the retreating sight of Celestia pushing the door open and disappearing. She closed her eyes and nodded. “Let’s go.”
Twilight’s horn lit up, and a moment later they were swallowed by a whirlpool of twisting space.
“Hey! What did you mean by…” Filly Twilight trotted around the corner then stopped when she saw the empty aisle. “Where did she go?”
She moved on to check the next aisle, then turned back with a frown. A scroll was poking awkwardly out of the shelf. She pushed it back into place, nodded to herself with a satisfied “Hmmf,” and trotted on.
