In a distant corner of Equestria, the wind howled across a barren plain. No matter how the earth ponies coaxed them, plants refused to grow here. Animals never stayed. The only scents on the air were rank and foul. What dirt remained felt slippery and oily. Even the sun and moon seemed to shine less brightly. Nopony had looked into it, but this barren patch was a rough circle, over two miles across. At the center of this circle, the only landmark within it, was a circle of standing stones. Twisted, glowing shapes were worn — not etched — into every surface, creating a kaleidoscope of form that made one ill to look at. If you stood within it, your sense of balance vanished as you were pressed down by a vast, unthinkable might of something far, far larger than yourself.
For beneath that circle, the Unspeakable One slumbered.
It wasn’t known as anything else. It couldn’t be. Any attempt to name it withered and died on the tongue, in the mind. Any other name was beneath it, for it couldn’t be constrained by a mere name; it simply was. Not the way the sky was or the earth was, but the way gravity was or electromagnetism was. It was a part of this universe on a foundational level and to unmake it would be to unmake the universe.
But just as magic could suppress gravity or electromagnetism for a time, so too could magic suppress the Unspeakable One. And in this instance, “for a time” was a long time. Over a thousand years ago, it had wandered over this pathetic land as it pleased, toying with the puny mortals who thought their lives had meaning. It hadn’t paid much attention to the team of seven ponies that assembled to fight it. What could a gnat do against an elephant?
Unfortunately for the Unspeakable One, it had vastly misjudged the power gap. The seven had thrown it down, corralled it, bound it, locked it away beneath a circle of standing stones. They thought it dead. But, as has often been said, “that is not dead which can eternal lie”.
The Unspeakable One slumbered, but it was aware. It knew the currents of magic that most ponies missed. Something was coming. The locks on its prison were about to disintegrate. Not thanks to any terrestrial magic, but that of the stars. The heavens influenced the earth in ways those ponies could never detect. The stars formed connections with each other and time rolled on, changing the currents of magic above, and these changes were reflected in the land. As above, so below. And the framework upon which this prison was built was due to be weakened by a set of stars moving into alignment in just the right way. It would only be for a single night, but a single night was all the Unspeakable One needed.
Soon. Soon it would be free. It wouldn’t even be “soon” on the infinite scales of timelessness, but a week. A mere week before it was unbound.
And so, the Unspeakable One waited.
Newly-crowned Princess Twilight Sparkle watched the approaching alignment with increasing concern. By her calculations, she had a week, but that was still too close for her comfort. She hadn’t gone stargazing in so long, she’d nearly missed it, only learning of it when a note (from her own father’s observatory!) was passed to her by a courier. “Yeah, these stars are going to go into alignment and unleash a world-devouring monstrosity imprisoned by the Pillars a super long time ago. No biggie or anything, but could you get on it?” (In hindsight, observatories keeping lists of captured abominations wasn’t… that surprising. What was surprising was those lists being kept on Rolodex.)
She’d promptly come up with a plan to stop it, but it’d seemed hacky and crude. She’d sent Luna a letter asking for a second opinion a few minutes ago. Most ponies wouldn’t expect Luna to write back already, but Twilight was Twilight, and so had taken to pacing around nervously on the balcony anyway.
She glanced up again. Had Delta Equulei, already a mere inch from alignment, moved another millimeter to the left? It felt like it. Or was she imagining things? No, she couldn’t be. This was real. She had documentation! You could prove anything with enough documentation. That sweet, sweet documentation. But documentation wouldn’t do any good if Luna didn’t read it. She had several days to read it, but still. Twilight resolved right then: if Luna didn’t write back in three days, she was going straight to Silver Shoals and-
Blue and silver sparks appeared before her and a scroll unrolled from the air for her to read.
Princess Twilight Sparkle (shut up I like the formality),
Of course you can! It’s how Tia and I handled them in the past, no different from road work. But please remember to put it back when you’re done. Also, while you don’t have to, I usually write a letter of apology to the astronomers, just to be polite. They understand.
Sincerely,
Totally Responsibility Free Not-Princess Luna
P.S. How did nopony tell me about water slides?
Twilight sighed with relief. Good. Her idea had been correct. Full of newfound confidence, she looked up at the cosmic sphere spread out before her. Pushing with all of her might, she reached out with her magic into the firmament itself.
She bumped Delta Equulei two inches to the left, right past alignment.
There! No alignment for another one thousand, three hundred eighty-four and change years. Crisis averted. Twilight sidled back into her bedroom, whistling and calm as could be. She had some letters to write.
…Well, poop.
From its circle, the Unspeakable One stared at the sky, speechless. How could this have happened? What could affect the heavens themselves? Not those ponies surely. The sky was far beyond their reach, no matter what they said. Their claims of unicorns moving the sun and moon were preposterous.
Well, it could wait. A millennium was but a drop of water in the ocean of time to it. Definitely. It absolutely wasn’t frustrated at having its freedom ripped away at the last moment. Frustration was for lesser beings. It ABSOLUTELY wasn’t, like, totally peeved. It could wait.
Totally.
Beneath that circle, the Unspeakable One slumbered, but very angrily.
Author's Note
An idea that wouldn’t leave my head but was too insubstantial to be fleshed out further.
