Lessons of the Faithful

The crisp Atlantic air infused Mary’s nose and throat with a briny ocean melange that called her as surely as a siren might enchant an ancient mariner, and she felt a sharp melancholic pang as she crested the grassy ridge on the path leading to the wide expanse of beach below.

There was always a sense of loneliness when Mary thought of the sea, blue and wild and so, so deep, and as early morning gave shape to the waves cresting out of the darkness in a gentle tide, she thought she understood why past civilizations deified it, and called it mother. The sea was something that seemed to be just on the edge of understanding, a quintessential force of nature that could never be tamed by any human endeavor, and though time had sacrificed some of that mystique on the altar of progress, the breakers coming in still whispered an ancient warning.

I am love and death, and your continued existence is by my leave. Show respect.

Mary’s white sundress was gauzy and translucent in the dawn light, and the sparse vegetation on the trail tickled her sandaled feet. She’d spent no small amount of time considering her outfit for the occasion, but Celestia had convinced her that something simple and appropriate for the setting would be best. The one they were about to meet was not someone who would be impressed by formal attire, which suited Mary just fine. It was one less thing among many to worry about this day.

The doctor heard the clop, clop of Celestia approaching from behind, and the alicorn came up beside her on the pathway, almost close enough to touch. Mary gave Celestia a sideways glance, noting the look of strain in the corners of bright eyes that would normally be smoothed over by a graceful mask of serenity.

The fact that she’d let that mask drop told Mary much, though she supposed it made sense considering who they were up against. There was no need to carry around a useless weapon.

“Hell of a backdrop,” Mary said, appreciating Twilight’s location choice. “Perfect weather, at the perfect time of day. Your girl has a flair for the dramatic, doesn’t she?”

“You should understand the truth of that by now,” Celestia said with a wistful smile. “All the Legends were magnets for the unexpected, her most of all. I suppose that’s why they were the Legends.”

“Past tense?”

Celestia was silent for a moment. “They’re all still active in their own ways, but after Twilight’s disappearance…there was no way things could go back to the way they were. Maybe those relationships will be different now, but that’s contingent upon many factors. No need to think about such problems right this second.”

“Guess so.” Mary composed herself as she looked down at the scene before her. “You ready?”

There was the briefest hesitation before Celestia answered. “Yes. Are you?”

“Fuck no.”

Celestia gave a rueful laugh that was almost swept away by the sounds of the ocean. “I wish I had the luxury of such honesty, little pony.”

Together, the pair began the long walk down to the beach, where a landscape unlike any they’d ever seen awaited them.

As the tough grasses made way for sand on the gentle slope, Mary dutifully scanned their surroundings, taking in the vastness of the sea and sky in her search for anything out of place. After Julie’s torrid baptism, the doctor had gotten into the habit of searching for clandestine recording devices, and although Night Regent Luna seemed to be keeping up her end of the bargain as far as making sure their escapades wouldn’t end up on the nightly news in high definition, today was a day to take especial care.

Obeying Twilight’s demands to the letter, the Canterlot Institute had made sure there would be no witnesses to the critical negotiations about to take place. The location had been cleared of people for miles around. No ships plied the waves as far as Mary could see, and no cameras — flying or otherwise — recorded the event. Even satellites were pointed away from the site. The only record of this meeting would be in the minds of the participants, and though Mary recognized the tragic loss for the historical record, it couldn’t be helped. They could not afford to take chances.

Mary noticed that Celestia’s breeding package was safely hidden away once again, bringing to mind things said during their tumble earlier. She let out a naughty snicker when she recalled that badly needed release of tension, and the Princess gave her a questioning look as they crossed the sands.

The doctor covered herself with a cough, mindful of the gravity of their situation. “Sorry. It’s just…I’m glad you didn’t take my advice about letting it all hang out. Now that I think about it, that probably would’ve sent the wrong message.”

Celestia’s lip curled into a devious grin, though she never took her eyes off their destination. “Indeed? And what message would that be, little pony?”

“The wrong one.”

Celestia chuckled. “I’m glad you understand the difference between fantasy and reality.” But as they drew closer to the meeting spot, the Princess’ expression grew serious. “It appears that dear Twilight is trying to muddle that difference, judging from her welcoming decor. Don’t let her dazzle you. Remember, everything she does has a reason.”

Mary nodded, but her eyes were wide despite Celestia’s admonition. “Is all this supposed to be welcoming, or intimidating? ‘Cause I’m feeling the latter right now.”

The Princess closed the small distance between them, touching Mary’s arm with her own shoulder. “I’m with you. Never forget that. No matter what happens, I’ll keep you safe.”

Mary had no illusions about the dangers they faced, or the likelihood that Celestia could actually defend her if the worst came to pass, but she was still touched by the Princess’ valorous proclamation. “Thanks, Tia. I’ll try to keep it together.” Though even as she said the words, she hoped she’d be able to follow through. Twilight’s penchant for drama was in full effect, based on what Mary was seeing in front of her.

The cooling ocean spray this near the water was a blissful relief from the morning’s heat that threatened to get even more sweltering as the day continued, but the magical decorations floating around them evoked a strangely wintry feel. Hovering at head height, each was about a foot tall, and made of some sort of impossibly flawless white crystal that reflected the sunrise with perfect clarity. Mary found herself squinting, so intense were the sparkles coming off the striking artifacts.

The floating sculptures were varied, depicting items and insignias that were almost certainly cutie marks from ponies past, judging by the rule of three that Mary had learned from Celestia. Here was a series of three diamonds, shining like the most precious cut gems. A few yards away was a trio of balloons, so perfectly rendered that they looked ready to float away at any moment. And then there was the cloud and rainbow lightning bolt, breaking up the pattern, so finely carved that even in monochrome, Mary could tell where one color ended and another began.

There were around thirty of these crystals, strewn in the air above the sands up and down the coast, seemingly without rhyme or reason. Mary recognized some from the Six Legends, though others she was unsure about. But the whole display made her uncomfortable, aside from its natural strangeness, and she struggled to understand why.

“It’s like a funeral,” Celestia whispered. “Oh, Twilight. Is this how you see us?” She was staring at a familiar sculpture, a brilliant eight-rayed sunburst that seemed to shine with its own inner light. The cutie mark might have been cut from living flanks, such was its fine detail; Mary could tell the creator must have had intimate knowledge of the original.

The doctor swallowed in a dry throat as she recognized the truth of Celestia’s words. The Sun Princess was obviously still alive, as were the other Legends, as far as Mary knew. Was this some kind of ceremony, a casting off of all attachments in preparation for serving a higher purpose? Or was she in mourning, remembering bonds that could never be whole again? Mary couldn’t tell. There was only one pony who could answer those questions.

Closest to the water’s edge was a multi-pointed star, surrounded by smaller star shapes that hung in the air in perfect formation. Behind this was another silhouette, fully pony-sized, its top half distorted by the crystal’s reflections. The only detail Mary could make out was its color: a light, pleasing purple, as delicate as the bloom of an orchid.

Mary heard a soft gasp, a sound that might as well have been a wail coming from the Sun Princess. She could sense the tension in the alicorn’s body, the urge to call out to her Faithful Student, to ask a million questions, to hold her and snuggle with her, just as she used to long ago. But before Celestia could say a word, another voice spoke from beyond the immaculate star crystal. It was high-pitched and young, yet strong and unwavering, and it demanded attention.

“Stop. Come no closer. Make no sudden moves. If I see even the smallest flash of magic, we are done. From here on out, you will do exactly as I tell you. Nod if you understand.”

They both nodded in turn.

Mary’s first impression of the great Twilight as the alicorn stepped into view was one of composure. The doctor’s frame of reference was limited, having only seen photographs of other ponies besides the Princess and the Night Regent, but even from her human point of view she could see a clear difference.

Twilight’s coat was a perfectly even shade of violet, and her mane and tail were precisely coiffed, with not a hair out of place. Her alicorn wings were gracefully folded against her barrel, smooth and unruffled, and her stubby horn could almost be called cute if one didn’t think about the power it represented. She was built with the greatest care as an ideal encapsulation of pony kind, with all unnecessary edges sanded away.

That included any hint of weakness. Twilight looked relaxed, in the way that longtime fighters are; Mary’s biologist instincts immediately picked up on the slack in her short legs, making her ready to lash out in any direction at a moment’s notice.

The legend was a good few hands smaller than Celestia, but her sheer presence more than compensated for her lack of size. It spoke of an existence of constant conflict, of personal strength tested again and again until testing became meaningless. Mary could scarcely imagine the arc of Twilight’s life since her self-imposed exile, but those big, dark eyes held a depth of experience that approached even Celestia’s.

The only apparent deference to sentiment was a well-worn saddlebag strapped to her back, just in front of the starry cutie mark that was almost as famous as the Princess’. The bag seemed to be held together with string and a prayer, repaired time and time again, and Mary wondered what kind of hair-raising adventures it had seen. What priceless treasures had it held?

Mary tamped down her curiosity, following Celestia’s example by watching and waiting as Twilight focused on the Princess completely. The doctor had not yet rated a single glance.

“Celestia. I see you did what I asked, without trying to talk your way out it. So you can show restraint, when it suits you.”

Not Teacher. Not Princess. Just a name, without title or honorific. Twilight was speaking as an equal, any deference having been burned out of her long ago.

To Celestia’s credit, she was recovering quickly from her initial disquiet, and her regal countenance effectively hid her grief, for the moment. “Twilight. It’s…”

She paused, and Mary knew she was experiencing the unusual sensation of grasping for the right words. At last, she decided on simplicity.

“It’s good to see you.”

Twilight stared at her former mentor for a long while, saying nothing. Then, she shook her head wearily.

“Good to see me, you say.” She stepped closer to the duo, looking Celestia up and down as if scanning for cracks in her armor. Mary was struck by the fluidity of her actions, like each gesture was planned in advance, with zero wasted movement. “I can’t say the same, unfortunately. Although, I am enjoying the fact that you’re still trying to figure out my angle. Any guesses yet? Go on. Give it a try.”

Instead of answering right away, Celestia turned her graceful head to peer at a crystalline depiction of three apples which looked sweet and freshly-picked, despite their lack of color. Mary wasn’t sure if the Princess was trying to stall for time while trying to work out a response, or if she just wanted to hide her expression, but she made a show of closely examining the sculpture. She prodded one plump fruit with a hoof, and the whole formation gently swung in place, as if tied to the air.

“Your control is immaculate, as usual,” Celestia said in a quiet, sad voice. “Rarity wouldn’t have been able to craft such a display, certainly not in a single morning.” Mary noticed the Princess’ quick glance at Twilight upon invoking the familiar name, but the young alicorn simply stared back. She might as well have been carved from crystal herself.

Celestia let out a small sigh. “I know you’ve re-appeared for a reason, Twilight. Of course, I’d like to get to the bottom of that, but there’s more to discuss, isn’t there? We have three hundred years worth of catching up to do.” She paused, and gave Twilight a more measuring look. “Besides, we both know you don’t work angles. You go all in, for better or for worse, and you deal with whatever comes of it. That’s what makes you who you are.”

Twilight began to pace as she stared down the Princess, walking a few yards down the beach before retracing her steps, and the reflected sunlight from the multitude of crystals gave her coat an unearthly luster. “An abrupt change of subject to throw the opponent off guard. A compliment, to endear them to you and get them mentally on your side. Statements of truth mixed in with the fluff, to keep them guessing. You haven’t changed your methods much, Celestia. I’m not sure if I should be relieved or disappointed at that.”

“Twilight-“

“Why does every conversation with you feel like I’m talking to a hostage negotiator?” The youthful tone combined with the serious subject matter made for an unnerving feeling. “Have you ever been straight with anyone even once in the last few hundred years? Or has running a country drained all the sincerity out of you? Is there any sign of the real Celestia in that flawless body?” She stopped her pacing. “No. I think I saw the real you, that day. It’s no wonder you try so hard to hide yourself.”

Enough was enough. “That’s some bullshit,” Mary growled. “You want to talk about who’s being real? You’re the one showing up out of nowhere with all these demands. What have you become since you left? Are we talking to the real Twilight right now?”

For the first time, Twilight turned her gaze to Mary. The young alicorn seemed to look through her, as if seeing every filthy thought she’d ever tried to hide, even from herself. “Dr. Mary Parvotti, xenobiologist. Congratulations on being assigned such a distinguished post. Guess it must have been fate that you two degenerates should find each other across time and space.”

“Game recognize game,” Mary said, not bothering to dispute Twilight’s criticism. “Now, are we just gonna stand around and insult each other, or should we get down to business? ‘Cause you wouldn’t believe how expensive this operation is. Count yourself lucky the Institute isn’t asking for reimbursement.”

A flicker of something like annoyance passed over Twilight’s face, though it quickly vanished. “Indeed. Let’s get started, then.” And her half-sized horn began to glow.

“Twilight,” Celestia said, immediately on alert as she sensed the flow of magic. “That’s a rather complex spell for just us. What are you doing?” Then there was a twitch in her cheek, and she grunted in sudden pain.

“Princess!” Mary took a half step toward the alicorn, but Celestia raised a hoof toward her to stop her movement. “Just a headache, Doctor,” Celestia said with a smile that was more of a grimace, as her eyes gave a desperate warning. “Stay calm.”

Mary whirled on Twilight, letting the anger and fear she’d been keeping at a low simmer bubble to the surface. “Look, stop! Just stop! Whatever this is, you don’t have to do it, just tell us what you want!”

“What I want is already in front of me. And this is not something I have to do. In fact, I very, very much desire this. You have no idea how much I need it.”

Twilight’s attention was fully upon Celestia as the Princess began to gasp and stumble, trying to stay alert while keeping the agony under control. “To answer your questions, I’m simply picking up an old hobby I left behind a while back. I used to be very good at puzzles, you see. Especially magical puzzles, remember? You used to give me those little brain teasers, and I’d work on them for days.”

“You were…obsessed for a while.” Celestia’s voice was tight with strain. “It wasn’t long before you started making your own. I never could…figure out even one.”

“You do remember,” Twilight said, a hint of a smile playing across her lips. “I especially loved creating magical locks. Think of an incredibly functional kind of puzzle. You can make locks for all kinds of things.”

The intensity of the light from Twilight’s horn steadily grew. “Physical locks. Emotional locks. Spiritual locks.” She paused. “Mental locks.”

Celestia’s rear legs trembled, then crumbled from underneath her, and she hit the ground with a thump as the pain became overwhelming. Mary could only watch helplessly, tears in her eyes, going over option after option in her mind. Every single one led to either her own death, or the deaths of others, and she swore in a voice loud enough to carry over the waves. So much for human ingenuity.

Twilight ignored Mary as she watched Celestia writhe, taking in the alicorn’s torment as if she were observing an interesting chemical reaction. “You should be thanking me, Celestia. I’m going to help you solve a mystery. That’s always been my job, after all. You’ve had gaps in your mind when it came to that day, correct? Gaps that not even Luna knows about. You figured you had a good idea about what happened, but something’s always been just a little bit off, hasn’t it? Certain details don’t quite line up. Am I wrong?”

Celestia struggled back to her feet, keeping her dignity even in the throes of her pain. “I thought I was the cryptic one, Twilight. What exactly are you trying to say? What have you done?”

Twilight’s horn began to pulse with a regular rhythm, and Mary thought she could hear the whirring of gears spinning and the clicking of tumblers sliding into place. “I’ve done a lot. More than you can imagine, and I’m not finished yet. But, what I’m doing now is unlocking your true memory, instead of the altered version that I implanted in your head. And then, we’re all going to take a trip 300 years back into the past. I’m going to make you face the truth, Celestia, and Dr. Parvotti here will be a witness. Now, try to stay still. This is going to feel a little weird.”

The alicorn sisters’ shared vision flashed into Mary’s mind, but before she could consider the meaning of Twilight’s revelations, her world went black.