A Nice Conversation With a Friend
It was evenings like these when Equestria truly felt alive.
The sun hung low in the sky, setting fire to the clouds and casting a soft glow over the land. Shadows moved to overtake the copses and alleyways they grew from. The noisy streets of Canterlot began to mellow as ponies made their ways back home, tired from a long day of work. The first vestiges of the city’s nightlife began to appear; clubs and neon signs became shining beacons in the dim light.
And above it all stood Princess Twilight Sparkle, gazing wistfully down upon her kingdom.
It was evenings like these when she remembered not only why she did this, but also the names and faces of the ponies who helped her along the way. The radiant sun, whose invaluable guidance stemmed from centuries of regrets. The elegant idol, whose desire for fame dwarfed all but her generous soul. Her most dangerous foe, whose cold heart had been thawed through the fires of friendship. The eternal trickster, whose only constant was his inconsistency.
Speaking of inconsistency…
“Better late than never,” the monarch muttered to herself. With a flash of her horn and a swirl of magic, she sent a short letter to her enigmatic friend. The letter was entirely blank, but he would understand the message.
Twilight really did enjoy the pair's occasional chats. And she did feel bad that whenever they would promise to talk again, it would inevitably be many months before she could find the time. It seemed the workload of a princess was never-ending. Time may grant experience in practical matters, but ever would Equestria produce the same amount of paperwork season after season.
Barely a minute had passed when she heard a pop behind her, followed by the sound of many birthday kazoos. Twilight waited as Discord recovered from a short coughing fit.
“…less confetti next time. Princess Twilight! How wonderful of you to call me when you’re looking for a little extramural enrichment! I just got your letter and had to rush over when I heard the news. It was hard to find a kidsitter for Hans on such short notice, but thankfully Snowy was willing to help me out in exchange for his release from the Chaos Realm. It really is such a shame not all draconequī are as kind and helpful as me.”
“That’s what Equestria knows you for, your boundless benevolence,” Twilight snarked. “How have you been, Discord?”
“Oh, you know. Saving kittens from trees, putting out wildfires, fixing ponies’ atrocious hairstyles…the usual.” Twilight turned to find a halo floating above his head.
“Were you the cause of those problems?”
“Naturally.” The halo snapped in half and clattered to the ground. “But that’s neither here nor there. Unlike myself, who is certainly here and not there. I might’ve been there, if not for the summons requesting my squareness. Which brings us to the now and here.”
“I have some free time and thought a nice conversation with a friend was in order.”
“Oh, one of these again. Yippee.” In an instant, Discord’s mood deflated. “And what might the topic of conversation be this time, Miss Friendship? I do so look forward to your attempts to make me introspect. It helps keep my demons at bay.”
“Something I’ve been wondering for a while now,” Twilight responded as she turned her back on the draconequus, gazing out over the city once again. “How do you know when you’ve reached the end?”
“Ooooh, has our Twilight Sparkle decided to go out with a bang? I can make that happen, you know. Anything you want. Poison, stabbing, drowning, lightning bolt, rabid animal attack!” Each suggestion was accompanied by the sound of Discord himself suffering that exact fate. “Anything you could dream of, really. Except flash bees. The queen and I aren’t on good terms right now.”
Despite being slightly put off by his dark attempt at humor, Twilight gave a chuckle and shook her head. “Not that kind of end. I mean the end of… anything, really. Like when I took the throne. How did Celestia and Luna know it was the end of their time? Did they actually know, or did they take a chance on me? Were they afraid that it might have been a mistake?
“I can’t help but think back to when Rainbow Dash retired. She knew she couldn’t fly with the Wonderbolts anymore and that it was time to pass down the responsibility. Just how long did it take for her to come to that realization? She put her heart and soul into that team. She breathed Wonderbolt routines. To reach a point where you know you’ll have to give up something you’ve invested so much time into, something you love… what is that like?
“And even what you brought up is relevant. When a pony reaches the end of their life, they’ve made peace with it. Most of the time, anyway. Everypony dies. Unless you’re an alicorn or a spirit of chaos. I have all the time in the world to wonder how ponies like Applejack and Luster and my brother can die with a smile on their face. But I’ll never actually know. I can’t. There never has to be an end for me. So how do I decide when to create one? What do–”
Discord was being suspiciously quiet. Twilight looked back over her shoulder to check if he was still with her.
He floated in a lounging position, feet kicked up above his head. On his chest was a book labeled How to Escape Philosophical Discussion for Dummies. Discord rolled his head lazily to look at the Princess before removing the pair of miniature reading glasses from his nose. “Oh, are you done? Don’t mind me, just doing some light reading. When is the end, right? Well, are you asking how I know when things end or how your little pony brains arbitrarily decide when something has run its course?”
“Are the two really that different?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay then, how do you know when something should end?”
“I just know.”
Twilight didn’t know what she was expecting. This is Discord, of course he’s going to be obtuse with his words. “So when you befriended Fluttershy, you just knew that your time terrorizing Equestria was over?”
“Technically, I knew long before that. Entire blueprint of world events, from now ‘til the end of time, all up in this noggin. Privileges of being all-powerful.” Discord’s book disappeared in a puff of smoke as he buffed his lion claws on his fur.
Twilight let out a sharp bark of laughter at that. “Yeah, I’m sure you totally knew you were going to spend thousands of years being buddy-buddy with the leaders of the nation you were trying to conquer.”
“The least you could do is humor me.”
“Right. Oh great Discord, Lord of Chaos and Arbiter of Reality, what vast knowledge might you pass unto this lowly subject of creation? I wait with bated breath for the enlightenment that may only be granted by your claws!” Channeling her inner Rarity, Twilight overacted her plea as much as she could. Seeing the discomfort on Discord’s face was immensely pleasing.
“I was being serious, you know.”
“Were you, now? Hmmm… alright. You said that you know how everything will happen ‘from now until the end of time.’ That implies that even time itself will end, or at least any creature able to perceive it will be gone. When exactly is this supposed endpoint?”
“You expect me to leak sensitive timeline-altering information just like that?” With a gasp, Discord slithered his way through the air so that he came face to face with Twilight. “Naughty princess, trying to abuse our friendship for personal gain!”
“If somecreature as powerful as you is unable to meaningfully derail the course of time, then I’m sure things will be just fine if you let me in on the secret.” Twilight pushed a hoof against Discord’s chest to create a little more space between them. “Humor me.”
The pout Discord gave her was one that she had gotten used to seeing over the centuries. “Hmph, fine. But you aren’t allowed to have one of your little freakouts that you love so much. And don’t get any ideas about trying to be a hero. Your old bones likely couldn’t handle it.” Another of Discord’s common barbs. It always tickled Twilight when he mentioned age, since he was considerably older than most other creatures alive.
“Well, Discord? I’m itching to get the inside scoop here.”
“Two weeks from now.”
Twilight couldn’t help the involuntary spike of panic she felt, but was able to rein it in quickly. She giggled as she turned her head to look past Discord at the setting sun. “Oh, so the world ends two weeks from now. Guess we had a good run. What gets us, the sun exploding? Maybe a planet-wide flood? Do you get bored and have another Fillydelphia Incident?” He almost had her believing his jokes for a while there, but his response was simply too ridiculous to be real.
Silence stretched on, past uncomfortable and into downright creepy. As the seconds turned into minutes, the small voice of skepticism in the back of her head grew louder with its demands. She looked back at Discord, though his face betrayed no sign of a trick.
“Discord?”
“Yes?”
“Are you telling the truth? Does everything actually end two weeks from now?”
“Do you really want the answer to that?”
Those eight words told Twilight everything she needed to know. This time, she couldn’t stop the flood of worry and she began to pace rapidly around the balcony. “The world ends in fourteen days!? Where? We have to warn the other nations! We have to stop this! We have –” Twilight found herself suddenly unable to talk, courtesy of a disembodied claw wrapped around her muzzle.
“A-hem. What did I say about having a freakout, Princess?” With a snap of his fingers, the claw holding her mouth shut burst into a cloud of bubbles.
“You’re right. I need to take this one step at a time. Who… Is it Lavan? Has Lavan escaped Tartarus? Or maybe Squirk broke the seaponies’ seal! I must send a missive asking –”
“It’s no one, Twilight.”
Other than a choked noise of confusion, Twilight didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t anyone? Then… it must be some natural disaster. What if the sun was exploding?
Discord let out a theatrical sigh. “Ugh. I’m not supposed to tell you this but I know you’ll be bothering me every waking moment unless I do. None of your little villainous nemeses come back from their nicely padded cages; no magical artifact gets released upon the masses; and no landmark erupts, combusts, or otherwise explodes.”
“Then… what goes wrong?”
“Things don’t have to go wrong for them to end, my dear. The world is, and then it isn’t. Simple as that.” Discord made the motion of grinding something between his fingers and blowing it away. “Like dust on the wind.”
It was inconceivable, totally impossible. But Twilight was a rational mare. She trusted Discord, insane as that might sound. “And… what about us? Or just you, I suppose. You can go elsewhere, to different dimensions. Are you going to be left behind?”
“I don’t know,” – Discord gave an overexaggerated shrug – “but I’d assume not. If I can’t see anything past that time, I can only assume I’m not around to see it.” He tapped a claw to his head as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The rapidly expiring world.
Twilight found a cacophony of questions trying to fight their way out of her mouth. Not wanting to interrogate Discord, she collected her thoughts before opening her mouth. “How many of my ponies know? Or will know?”
“Every single one.”
“Are they– Will they be afraid?”
“Not at all.” Seeing Twilight’s questioning look, he continued. “They have a Princess who is willing to do whatever she can to see that all of her little ponies are comforted in their final moments.”
“What… What about myself? Am I afraid?”
“Are you sure you want me to answer that?”
Twilight believed a lot of things. She knew first-hoof that many old legends were actually real, or had some basis in reality. She had done things that wouldn’t be out of place in fairy tales. But this… this was just too much. Wasn’t it?
Discord was many things. Rude. Annoying. A pain in the plot. But although he tried to hide it, Twilight was as much his friend as he was hers. Twilight was sure he would never let a joke affect her this much. The last time that happened was over 2000 years ago, and Discord had actually apologized afterward.
Are you sure you want me to answer that?
Just like so many other phrases of his, that question had become shorthand for Discord. A way to show emotion and contribute to their friendship without sacrificing his chaotic, devil-may-care attitude. A way to let Twilight know that she deserved to know the truth, even when he was terrified of telling her.
Silence settled over the balcony. It was chillier than usual, Twilight told herself. She saw no other reason why she would be shivering. It had been a long time since she last felt this way. Certainly too long for her to remember.
Or maybe… she had never felt this way. A fear of the end was not something the alicorn ever had to face before. Was this how everypony else felt? Twilight noted the irony that was her waxing poetic about immortality not ten minutes ago.
Tomorrow she would start preparing her nation. Make a formal announcement. Reach out to city leaders. But today, she had to prepare herself. Twilight was aware that the fear she now carried wouldn’t go away, but there was one thing that would definitely help.
“Come hug me.”
Discord immediately blanched, sticking out his tongue and acting like he had just tasted badly-cooked spinach. “I know that I have many highly desirable traits, but I must say I would rather hurtle myself through the vastness of space alone than attempt a relationship with you, Princess.”
“Not like that, you absolute dork. You essentially just told me the world is dying and there’s nothing I can do about it. I need a friendly hug right now.” Twilight lifted her wing, beckoning him to come closer.
And thankfully, he did. Hesitantly floating until he was close enough for her to wrap her wing around, Twilight pulled him into a somewhat awkward side-hug. She could feel him tensing and thought about how long it must have been since he last let somepony get close to him like this. The least she could do is bring his mind to a relaxing place.
“I’m glad we made the friends we did while we could. Aren’t you, Discord?”
“I wish I could see Fluttershy again.”
“Me too.”
