Sunday, June 7th, 909 AB (after dinner)

“This is it?” he asks, taking in the room from the doorway.

“It is. Were you expecting something different?” she curiously asks as she climbs up on a couch.

“I mean… yeah? It’s nice, but I figured less ‘fancy den’ and more ‘fortified ritual room,’ ya know? Maybe like… candles, old, musty bookshelves, stone walls, chalk drawings on the floor. Ya know, the works. Not like… all bright and well lit with fancy couches, nice maple shelves, and plush carpeting. I’m not complaining, just surprised.”

Celestia furrows her brow and looks around the room. The colt’s description is accurate; the pair are in one of the many dens of the castle. This particular room, unlike her preferred reading rooms, is interior and, also unlike the others, has plates etched with runic diagrams laid into the walls, floor, and ceiling. “The protections are present, I assure you; they are just hidden behind the paneling and under the carpet. The room is designed for informal discussions of a confidential nature such as this.”

“Oh. Alright,” he accepts with an indifferent shrug. He follows her path into the room and alights himself on a couch opposite the ancient alicorn. “So,” he starts, only to immediately pause when her horn ignites. The door shuts and golden lines of power briefly illuminate, easily visible despite any obstruction between the plates and the colt.

Only a few seconds later her horn dims, though remains faintly glowing, and she gives him a nod.

“Neat. So… I probably should have written down an outline beforehoof. Where would you like to start?”

“If you’re willing, I would like to start with you.”

“Okay, fair enough. You already know I have memories that sorta aren’t my own.”

“Indeed. I was surprised a couple weeks back when you mentioned family ‘from before.’ I had assumed the memories consisted mainly of future events.”

Cure cringes as he slowly nods. “Yeah, sorry for droppin that on you all unexpectedly.”

“There is no need to apologize, Cure. We all need to rely on others at times.”

“Thanks, princess.” He takes a deep breath to center himself. “I’m sure there’s others, but two of the possibilities I’ve come up with are that either reincarnation is real and I’ve remembered a past life or that somehow an entirely different creature’s memories from another world got crammed into my brain, either deliberately or by some cosmic fluke.”

Celestia takes the statement in, pondering for a moment while the colt waits patiently. “Not that I doubt you, but ponies, as well as other creatures, have claimed to have memories of past lives before,” she explains. “None were verifiable. They were typically fleeting, lacking details much like a dream is upon waking.”

“These aren’t. They’re quite vivid. I may not be able to actually prove it exactly, but even aside from my ‘vision of the future,’ I recall plenty enough to dispel almost any doubt anypony could have. There’s simply no other way for me to know the things I know.”

“I do believe you, though I am curious. What memories do you possess that would substantiate your claim?”

“Lots, boss. Scientific knowledge this planet doesn’t possess is probably the lowest hanging fruit. The society that the memories come from is somewhere between one and three hundred years more advanced depending on the specific sector. Telecommunications, industry, chemistry, physics, math, medicine… you name it. Magic either didn’t exist or was rare and kept secret, so technology had to develop to accomplish similar tasks.

“I’m a great example of that,” he remarks as he motions up to his horn. “Magic lets me do things that, if done with only technology, wouldn’t be possible maybe for a millennium or more. Flight,” he says, fluffing up his wings, “is another example. We didn’t have to develop the technology here, so we didn’t. They don’t have wings, so they did.

“As a result, the extent of our flight technology is, more or less, ‘flap wings, take off’ or brute force it with magic, whereas they developed aeronautical technologies that eventually let them fly right off the planet. We haven’t even started that journey.

“Here, look, a hundred and twenty-ish years of progress in just a few images,” he says as he projects a series of pictures showing humanity’s progress in flight and gives a brief description of each image. He starts with the Wright Flyer, moves on to a WWI Biplane, skips ahead to the iconic P51, then displays progressively more advanced jets, and finally, the Endeavour. Though they lack the one hundred percent lifelike quality his scans have, they’re plenty clear enough that nopony could mistake them for the imaginary musings of a foal.

Very slowly, the princess nods in acknowledgement. “Those images, not to mention your detailed explanations, are certainly quite convincing. I can’t help but note that many of those have a somewhat… aggressive aesthetic to them.”

“The world didn’t have the advantage of an immortal, all-powerful, benevolent dictator, princess. Peace had to be won through war, and for every advancement in armor there was a corresponding advancement in weaponry. Technology eventually progressed to the point where even you, with all your power, could at best force a stalemate against some nations, given their capabilities. I don’t want to paint a grim picture of humanity here -”

Her ears fix on him and brows shoot nearly into her mane as she interrupts, “Humanity? Humans?”

“Yep, humans.”

“Bipedal? Furless?” she asks as Cure nods along. “Are you familiar with the tales of Dream Valley?”

“I’ve read ‘em,” he confirms.

Celestia smiles fondly. “We used to read those when we were fillies. We would pretend to be the ponies in those ancient stories, scarcely able to imagine a time before the Age of Chaos. Luna used to get so angry with me when I insisted on being Gusty the Great,” she explains with a giggle. “I would argue her coat and fascination with the night meant she had to be Ribbon the Dreamer.”

A serene smile plays across the princess’s face as she closes her eyes and remembers a simpler time. After a moment’s reflection she sighs and continues. “I’m sure you’re aware, a young female creature helped the ponies of that era. She was revered as a hero and, supposedly, a human.”

“Yeah, unfortunately there weren’t any drawings but the description matches. They varied a little, but she was apparently blonde and about the same height as a pony. It sounds like she usually wore jeans and, from the description, boots and a vest. I wonder if she ever told the ponies what those boots, and probably the vest, were made out of,” he adds with a chuckle.

“From your amusement I am guessing it is something they would not have approved of.”

“Probably a cow,” he answers with a nod. The stricken look on the princess’s face gets a laugh from the colt. “They’re not sapient where she came from. They’re not even as smart as birds are here.”

“Regardless, I find the notion upsetting.”

“Eh, different world, different ways, princess,” he points out with an indifferent shrug. “It’s not like we don’t eat fish, after all.”

Reluctantly, she nods in acceptance. “I suppose. Still, it is rather amazing to think that over three thousand years later another human has come, in a way. I can only assume this is not a coincidence.”

“It could be,” he counters. “There’s no evidence this girl came from the same world my memories did. If time moves the same between worlds she couldn’t have; that style of clothing didn’t get invented until maybe a hundred and fifty years ago. The world on the other side of Star Swirl’s mirror is a human one too, even if the humans are kinda… I guess, maybe, reflections of ponies here?” he ends in a very unsure tone.

Celestia’s curious expression prompts him to clarify, “Like, the best way to describe it based on what I’ve seen is that there is a Celestia there, too, but she’s not the princess of some kingdom. She has a younger sister named Luna, though.

“It’s weird and I have serious doubts that my notion of what’s on the other side of that mirror is one hundred percent accurate. For one thing, humans don’t live longer than ponies. Unless your counterparts are whatever the human equivalent of an alicorn is then I don’t see how that could be possible. If they are, then that world must not be as magically barren as I would expect, which would raise other issues.”

“Interesting. I recall you said intelligent bipeds are on the other side. I would have never guessed they could be humans. Perhaps it would be wise to investigate it, once we can assure that nopony would end up stranded there.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” he easily agrees. “Has anypony ever tried to figure out exactly how the mirror was made? I mean… I’m not tryin to skip on outta here, but if we can figure out how it works maybe we could start trading with or learnin from other worlds.”

“We were sternly warned not to do exactly that. Not only because of the safeguards to prevent tampering, but also due to the risk of somepony recreating the work. ‘For every opportunity there is an equivalent danger, young ones,’” she fondly quotes.

Cure doesn’t bother hiding the disbelief that creeps into his voice. “And you just… accepted that? You never got curious for however many hundreds of years?”

“Our mentor was one of, if not the most brilliant ponies I have ever met,” she counters somewhat defensively.

“And he was never wrong?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” she hesitantly admits, “but his advice was right far more often than it was not.”

“Well… I’m not sayin there’s no risk, but I’d suggest the opposite of the saying is true also. For every danger there’s an equivalent opportunity. Usually,” he begrudgingly adds.

“Your point has merit,” she agrees. “When I have time I will determine what I can about the mirror’s protections. If it can be done safely, I may consider allowing research into how it was developed. Either way I will let you know what I decide. You said the world on the other side is devoid of magic?”

“Supposedly,” he repeats with a nod. “I don’t think it would be a good prison for the sirens and whatever else went through if they could eventually pop back over. They are unaging, right?”

“They are only unaging so long as their phylactery remains intact. Once that is destroyed they are severely weakened and age normally. They can make another, but the ritual to do so requires several reagents that could not be easily obtained, and would not exist in a nonmagical world.”

“Phylactery?” Cure asks with no small amount of alarm.

Celestia nods, explaining, “An amulet. It is the focus through which they absorb negative emotions and cast spells. Without it they are almost powerless. They have some compulsion abilities, but they are ineffective on all but the weakest minds.”

“Oh. Do you have any idea what happens to one of us if we travel somewhere with no ambient magic?”

“I surmise little, though you would notice it. The air would feel different. Our power is our own, so it is not as if we would be somehow weakened. Grand workings and enchantments that rely on external power may fail. Compressed bags, the resizing and tracking enchantments on your regalia, for example. Not immediately, but after a few months they would run out of power unless directly supplied by somecreature.”

“That’s not too bad,” he notes, relieved. “Just a heads-up, if the mirror works like I think it does then a pony will be changed into whatever the appropriate race for them would be on the other side. Magic, the bearer, when she goes to retrieve her Element, is turned into a human.”

“Interesting. Such magic is very complex. It requires great familiarity with both the original and the altered forms to achieve without giving the target a feeling of disassociation. That the mirror is enchanted with not only teleportation magic, but also transmutation and, presumably, divination is truly fascinating. Perhaps we should have been studying it all along simply to further the science of enchanting.”

“I would definitely recommend it as long as you can trust the ponies and they have adequate oversight. We don’t want somepony opening portals to other planes all willy-nilly.”

“We do not,” she easily agrees. “I believe we got off topic. We were discussing you before I interrupted.”

“Right. You had asked about the planes which, of the ones I showed you, were mostly machines of war. Necessity is the mother of invention and several evil individuals rose to power, thus pushing the need to develop weapons to combat them. Humanity as a whole is probably not much, if any, more violent than ponies.”

Celestia nods in acceptance. She considers the colt opposite her for a moment before asking, “Do you see yourself as human? Based on what you’ve told me, even if they are not your memories, you have far more life experience from a human perspective than you do from a pony one.”

Cure scrunches his snout, waving a hoof side to side in a “sort of” gesture. “As much as I try to only be a pony, I don’t think I will ever be able to deny that my mindset is more human-like. I temper my behavior, as you’ve seen,” she nods in acknowledgement, “but I can’t even try to claim that I act exactly like a normal foal. I’m not totally different from how I used to be.

“I owe a lot of that to the formative years I had before the memories hit. I can’t fathom how screwed up I would have been under different circumstances. I’m far more assertive than I was. That just comes with knowledge and experience, though.”

“That was one of the first things I noticed,” she comments, “especially during your visit here. No foal would confront a group of minotaurs like that. You did not even hesitate to assert dominance over my own captain.”

Cure immediately thrusts an accusing hoof in her direction. “You gave me the go-ahead on that! I checked first!”

“You did. I’m not upset,” she calmly agrees, “and the way you chose to respond was telling. Nonviolent, but no less terrifying for it; the same method you attempted with your initial disguise on the train. It may not always be the correct approach, but I have little doubt the captain has warned her guards against dismissing you as they may a typical foal.”

“I… hadn’t considered that.” He only takes a moment to consider that before bobbing his head in approval. “Good. I’d be pretty pissed if I gave an order and it was ignored. The only time I would is if it was pretty freaking urgent anyhow, so havin somepony ignore it would suck.”

“Just be careful with your talent,” she cautions, “you don’t want to end up scaring everypony.”

“Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Celestia rolls her eyes at the colt’s repeated apologies. “You said sorry then and you apologized again last Sunday. It’s okay, Cure. You just caught me unprepared, that’s all.”

“Alright, alright. So anyhow, I’m more confident and outspoken, but that’s just ‘cause I know from experience how to get things done. With things I don’t know how to accomplish I find somepony that can get the ball rolling, ya know?”

“A very adult mentality,” she agrees. “I do not wish to upset you, but I recall a conversation we had last time you were here. We were discussing how information is supplied to you by your talent.”

“I remember,” he says with a nod. “And I think I know where you’re going with this. Just like my scans, the memories aren’t all stored in my brain, exactly. Instead, it’s almost like a memory of a memory when I recall things I’ve thought about before. Things that don’t belong here, that is.

“Some of those airplanes, for example. I’ve shown my mom, Title, a lot of that before, but the Shooting Star was one I just thought of. It wasn’t as iconic as the others, even if it was a revolutionary airplane. At first, no neurons fired, but once I pictured it in my head before I activated the Illusion I could basically see it being stored away in my hippocampus.

“Regardless of how I got those memories, Edward got to live his life. It…” he scrunches his snout and takes a deep breath as he continues, “I don’t need to tell you, of all ponies, how much looking back can hurt. Clinging to that past… it’s not just me that would suffer.

“Intentionally or not, my parents have all but had their foal stolen away from them. They’re too good to let it show, but it especially hurt my dam at first. Thinking of myself as him reborn helps nopony.”

“I understand,” she softly replies. “It does still beg the question as to whether others have gone through something similar. Perhaps whatever circumstances led you to remembering simply did not occur with them.”

“Dunno. The only thing special about me is that I was born seconds after you raised the sun a city over. I’m sure that over the centuries that’s happened hundreds of times, though, so who knows?”

“Indeed. Perhaps Harmony or some other force played a part, or simply used the flood of ambient magic at the time to reach out. I fear we may never know.”

“I mean, we could go ask the tree.” The suggestion gets a raised brow from the mare. “We’ll have to go help it out sooner or later anyhow. The asshole,” he points vaguely in the direction of the garden with his wing, “set some scheme up before ya stoned him, so eventually the little lady,” he motions with his head to the mark on his flank, “will need a helping hoof. I just don’t know how to go about it given there’s plunderseeds and they’re kind of an unknown.”

“That kind of intel will be very helpful. What exactly are plunderseeds and what can you tell me about them?”

“They’re some kinda plant. I don’t know much else. They sprout vines that, I think, either absorb or are immune to magic. By the way, is it safe to say his name or should I just keep calling him ‘the asshole?’”

Celestia shakes in a quiet chuckle. “Saying his name here will not draw his attention. If he were able to perceive this conversation I would at least be able to tell, even if he were not petrified at the moment. If he is somehow slightly aware then it should be even easier to detect.”

Easily accepting her explanation, Cure continues, “Okay. So Discord set up some kind of scheme before you two got him. These plunderseeds are supposedly sapping the tree of its power gradually over time. I don’t know the details, but I’m guessing that once the bearers start using the elements the combination of their usage and the vines’ draining eventually becomes too much. The plunderseeds sprout vines that grab you and Luna and trap you somehow, then start lashing out at communities near the Everfree.

“The bearers, with Discord’s help, make their way to the tree and return the physical manifestation of the elements, giving it enough power to… do something, I guess. Again, I lack the details. Bottom line? If the vines or the seeds are a biological creation then I may be able to kill them, but if they absorb pony magic then an attempt gone wrong could end up with me trapped, potentially for a really long time.”

The princess tilts her head in contemplation for a moment. Cure waits silently for her to offer her thoughts. “Perhaps we should consider aerial reconnaissance for now, then an expedition upon your maturity. With a guard contingent for support I believe we could at least ascertain the status of the tree, if not determine what level of threat these vines truly represent.”

“That would have been my suggestion as well. If I could just get a single seed then, even if I can’t directly affect one, I can at least try to develop a counteragent.”

“Yes, an indirect approach may work best,” she agrees. “You speak of Harmony as a sapient entity, not an ambiguous force.”

“I’m not sure which is more accurate. My knowledge of the world is not completely reliable, as we discussed last time. You are aware of alternate worlds or dimensions, right?”

“I am. Star Swirl’s trap, as you described it, is one.”

“Yeah, well, there’s also probably alternate versions of this world. I think we touched on this before; the version of Equus I saw didn’t have any male alicorns. The analogy I gave my parents is, imagine you’re reading a story. A character takes an action you think is foolish, so you imagine how the story would have played out had he or she done something differently.

“Instead of simply thinking of it, you take the time to rewrite the story with the alternative timeline, then send the manuscript to the original author. They like it so much, maybe they even publish the book as a ‘what if’ kind of thing. Now you have the original story and an alternative, right?”

“Yes…” she slowly agrees, unsure where the colt is headed.

“Now imagine that tens of thousands of other ponies did something similar. They rewrote the story so that the main character is a stallion instead of a mare. The protagonist and antagonist trade places. The story takes place a hundred years before or after the original.

“You get where I’m going with this. That’s a very basic version of the problem I have with this world’s future. I have a passing familiarity with the ‘Original Story,’” he says with air quotes, “but that’s just one iteration of the thousands of alternate timelines Edward read about.”

The princess’s wings sag slightly as the situation becomes apparent to her. “That means that any potential intel you could provide is highly suspect, Cure. It’s still far better than most prophecies, and much has aligned so far, but…”

“I know,” he replies when she trails off. “That’s my whole point. There’s a whole bunch of versions of you, especially. I had no idea what you would actually be like until you showed up at my doorstep. I nearly pissed myself the instant I saw you because I had no idea if you were there to vaporize me before I could become a threat or something.”

“I would never -” she begins to shout, pausing when he holds up a hoof.

“I know that now. Some of those stories involve Daybreaker, though.”

That causes an even stronger reaction. The princess recoils away, rising to her forehooves on the couch with her wings spread wide. “I have never spoken that name aloud,” she nearly shouts.

Cure shrugs in indifference. “I mean, whatever. I’m not accusin ya of anything, boss. I know that’s not you, just like Nightmare Moon isn’t Luna. Everypony has the capacity for evil, Celestia. Maybe most don’t go through a physical transformation when they think about kicking an annoying yapping puppy, but hay, it’s still there. I couldn’t know ‘till I met ya, though, now could I?”

She blows out a deep breath and resettles on the couch. It takes a moment and more than one flick of her large wings before she is reseated and completely calmed down. “I apologize, Cure. I know you are simply telling me what you know, but that such a private detail was exposed is discomforting.”

“Nopony is perfect, boss. I do worry about you though. Quite a bit, in fact.”

“I recall you voicing concerns regarding my work schedule before. Don’t worry about me. I am quite alright.”

“Are you?” he sincerely questions. Not giving her time to answer, he continues, “Humans live, on average, seventy five years. Rarely over a hundred. The widely accepted ages for employment are typically from about sixteen until maybe their early to mid fifties if they planned well, or into their mid sixties or later if needed. Ponies seem to be content working until they drop assuming they’re able to stick to their special talent, but over a literal millennium of work, boss… that sounds unhealthy.”

“I am following my destiny, Cure. I get great satisfaction from my job.”

“Okay. You know better than I. Can I ask a rather private question as a medical professional?”

“I suppose,” she hesitantly allows.

“Thanks. And don’t feel like I expect you to tell me, but when’s the last time you went out, had a few drinks, found a nice stallion or mare, and had a fun roll in the hay?”

“Oh my stars, seriously?” she incredulously asks. “I admit, I am fine with us speaking more candidly than I would be with most of my little ponies, but really, Cure?”

“Sex is a healthy part of life, princess. You’re a healthy, biologically twenty-ish mare. From a medical standpoint having absolutely no sex drive at all is generally considered a concern, not to mention a symptom of a number of problems. Since I can easily rule out physical reasons that really only leaves psychological reasons if that is, indeed, something you experience.”

She doesn’t seem angry, but the mare is definitely responding defensively. “In what way are you qualified to diagnose such things, hmm?”

“I may not be,” he agrees. “I have super senses, though. I also routinely give mares extremely invasive medical exams. I can tell if a mare has had sex recently. Usually I can tell who their partner is and, in some cases, what position they did it in. The bottom line is that I have a pretty good idea how and how often ponies have sex. If you don’t want to talk to me that’s perfectly fine, but how would you feel about hiring a professional that is qualified instead?”

“That is completely unnecessary, I assure you.”

“Okay. Lemme ask you this; Do you have a physician on staff that’s your primary care doctor?”

“I do, the same one responsible for many of the staff here.”

“Do you occasionally get a physical done? Checks to ensure your heart is healthy, stuff like that?”

“Not a physical, exactly. Just a routine check on my heart, pulse, and so forth. Dr. Bran takes every opportunity to harass me to exercise more.”

Cure frowns in thought and reflexively looks at the princess’s figure analytically. A scowl begins to form on her face in response. “Why? You’re in nearly perfect shape for an adult mare.”

The mare blows out a sigh in relief. “I don’t know. I suspect she finds little else to address. I admit, I am more sedentary than is ideal, but I do not believe that matters for us as much.”

“It doesn’t. That kinda proves my point, though. You have a doctor and you get occasional check-ups despite the fact that all evidence indicates you have no need for them,” he finishes rolling his hoof and giving her an expectant look.

Picking up where he’s going with his line of inquiry, Celestia hesitates to respond. Her snout scrunches in distaste at the line of questioning, which he interprets correctly as reluctance to address the subject.

“Hmm,” he hums in thought. “If you catch a really bad cold, unlikely as it may be, what would happen if you just… I dunno, snapped your own neck?”

Celestia once again finds herself dumbfounded at the question.

“Presumably you’d come back an hour or so later, right? Would you still be sick?”

“I… don’t know. I’ve never been sick when…”

“What about injuries? You have absolutely no scars whatsoever, something I find amazing for somepony that has been on the battlefield. When you die and come back are all your injuries healed?”

“They are.”

“How many times have you killed yourself?” he matter-of-factly asks. Her eyes almost bulge out of her head and wings raise at the question. He maintains a stoic look and continues, “I’m not judging you, Celestia. If you know you’re going to come back fully healed it’s a valid tactic. Having a broken leg and taking weeks to heal is kind of inefficient if you can just off yourself and be fine in an hour. I would ask that from now on you call me instead, but whatever,” he finishes with another shrug.

“I believe I would like to get back to the subject of our discussion,” she insists.

“Okay. That’s fine. I hope you’ll consider it, but I certainly have no way to compel you to speak to somepony. Just know that you have a few million ponies out there that care; find one you can trust that knows what the hay they’re talking about, please.” Piece said, he moves on before potentially upsetting her. “So a few other things I know that are likely to happen eventually…” he ponders aloud.

He perks up as a memory hits. “The Alicorn Amulet pops up. That’s not a huge problem; Magic deals with that pretty easily, but hay, if we can find that and lock it away then all the better.”

“A dangerous artifact, indeed,” she agrees, settling back into calmer demeanor after the derailment. “I am familiar with it, though I have not heard mention of it since Sombra’s banishment.”

“Oh so it is his?”

“He created it,” she confirms. “It is a focus for dark magic. He was planning to use it as a catalyst to corrupt the Crystal Heart, then, I suspect, use its power to try to ascend. Given the potency of the dark magic within it, it should not be difficult to detect unless it is shielded somehow. Or, perhaps, if it is too far away. Such an artifact should be detectable for hundreds of kilometers.”

“Cool. I have no idea who has it. Is the spell to detect it something that others can do as well?”

“Yes.”

“Would you be capable of messing with the enchantment if we find it? Either undoing it or, better yet, weakening the user instead of empowering them? Or just making a fake one that would pass as the original?”

“I cannot say offhoof. Given sufficient time, I would surmise the answer is yes, either or both options should be feasible. I would prefer to destroy the actual amulet, if possible.”

“Me too, but having a trap ready would be nice also. What about that detection spell? Can it also detect cultists? Sgt. Haze mentioned some causing trouble in Whinnyapolis a few years back.”

“It can if you happen to cast the spell while they are actively using such magics, or if they have imbued something with dark magic and failed to shield its container. It’s a modified version of Detect Magic, so others could learn it without much difficulty. The detection range would depend on the amount of power they are using and, again, protections they have established.”

“Have you considered putting it into a set of crystals and having every metro run a scan every so often?”

“I… had not considered that, no. The threat is not significant, typically, so it has never been a major concern.”

“I think you said the same thing about ensuring your guards are who they appear to be. Ya know, most catastrophes aren’t usually a ‘once and done’ thing. They’re a series of small, often seemingly unrelated failures that end up with a disaster.”

“I am very well acquainted with how catastrophes occur, Cure. I appreciate the suggestion, but just because something could happen does not mean that it is necessary to overreact while trying to prevent it.”

“Fair enough. I just know that it’s difficult to quantify the cost of a failure until it’s already happened. Just how dangerous can one of those cults be?”

“Far less than a trained, competent guard, typically. If you’re using Sombra as a measuring stick for dark magic users then know that he is an extreme outlier. Despite that, if it weren’t for his contingency then, in all likelihood, you would not even know his name. He would just be another of the hundreds of forgotten fools that thought they found a shortcut to power.”

Cure almost blurts out a quip about the two of them finding a shortcut to power, but recalls that Celestia had mentioned their dam’s sacrifice. The memory thankfully stops his comment before he opens his mouth. Unaware of his near slip, Celestia continues, “I have specialist squads equipped specifically to combat such threats. They are quite effective.”

“Cool. I would like to have a chance to learn what they know when I’m older. Ya never know when that could be needed, and if I’m going to be around a long time I’m sure I’ll encounter it eventually.”

“You will have the opportunity,” she assures him.

“Great. So there’s that, there’s Discord. I already told you about Chrysalis and the changelings. OH! There’s a sorcerer that’s trying to steal love that crops up probably in fifty, sixty years or so. I don’t have any other details but I’m guessing it’ll happen somewhere to the north. A pegasus that I think has ties to the Crystal Empire stops him with the power of Love somehow and dons that mantle as a result,” he says while motioning upwards to his horn and ruffling his feathers.

The gesture does not escape the mare’s notice. “Should such a report come to me I will keep an eye on it. By then you will be capable of interfering, but you must not unless something goes horribly awry. That sounds like a situation I would normally dispatch one of those squads to.”

“Maybe you get a vision of her ascension, which is why neither of us steps in.”

“I suspect I already have. What color is her coat?”

“Pink. She’s a pegasus version of my mom, almost. My tax pony has the same colors too.”

“Not an uncommon color, but yes… I believe I have seen her in a vision.”

“Neat. Most of the rest of the stuff I’ve seen won’t be an issue until ninety years from now. For example, Cerberus gets distracted at some point and lets Tirek escape. You’ll have a vision there too and, as part of his reformation, you’ll ask Discord to locate him.”

“I… ask Discord to help?” The disbelieving look on her face makes Cure wonder how future Celestia could have ever done something so dumb.

“I know. It sounds stupid just saying it out loud. As you may surmise, Discord, being what he is,” he offers a hoof to her.

“A fool,” she offers.

“That works too. Asshole was the number one answer. Anyhow, he joins forces with Tirek. Shock and dismay,” Cure rolls his eyes, “It’s a good thing you’re already sitting down for this next part… Tirek eventually betrays him too.” Cure pauses to throw his hooves in the air and make the most surprised face he can muster. “Who could have possibly seen that one coming?!” he asks in a raised voice.

Celestia snorts a laugh, nodding in agreement. “Oh yes. Certainly. I would never have predicted such a thing.”

“Right? Eventually Magic gives him a right proper beating and the other bearers chip in to sap his stolen energy. Instead of ripping his head off you send him back to Tartarus again, I think.

“I’m going out of order here, so my bad. Before Tirek, Sombra and the Crystal Empire, which sounds like some kinda teeny-bop band name, do show up. Love is set to assume the throne there but the Elements go up and almost kill him. That’s while Magic is still a unicorn, so it may be years prior.

“I’ll tell you right now, I plan on finishing that job. Him and Tirek both are threats I don’t intend to leave alive. In fact, I’d recommend going into Tartarus and offing the centaur tomorrow if you got room in your schedule. He’s an existential threat to the planet and doesn’t deserve half measures.”

“I cannot do that. I do not have the authority to simply enter Tartarus and execute whomever I choose.”

“Okay. If he escapes he’s dead meat, though. I’m not going to risk the entire planet on the off chance he’s redeemable. Everything I’ve seen indicates he’s not.”

“If he remains a threat, by all means,” she agrees.

“Glad we’re on the same page. I’ve covered the plundervines as much as I can. I guess the next big one would be some asshole that calls himself the Storm King. Is there a community of hippogriffs to the south somewhere separate from Equestria?”

“There is, but they cut off formal relations with other nations over six hundred years ago.”

“We may want to reach out to them at some point. That Storm King dude will nearly wipe ‘em out, then come for us next. He has some staff that he wants to use to steal the power of the alicorns with.”

The suggestion gets a worried look from the princess. “Can you describe it?”

“No, I have no idea what it looks like. Its name starts with ‘S a’ though. Sagittarius? Sanctus? San-something-is maybe-”

“Sacanas?”

Cure pauses and slowly nods. “That’s probably right. It sounds right, at least. You’ve heard of it?”

“You… could say that,” she demures. The tone gets a raised brow from the colt who waits patiently as the mare makes a noble attempt at maintaining her nonchalance. She bites the side of her cheek and looks away. Guilt practically radiates off the princess as she’s clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

“What did you do?” he finally asks in his best dad voice.

Pawing at the couch, she looks down with drooping ears and sagging wings. “I may have, possibly, at one point… gone a tad bit… overboard? Perhaps?”

“You… made it, didn’t you?” he asks in a scolding tone.

“No!” she shouts. Openly cringing, she quietly adds, “Not by myself, at least.”

He points a hoof at her and narrows his eyes. “I will come over there and bite those ears if you don’t tell me what you did! Don’t think I won’t do it, lady!”

She pins her ears back and pouts at the colt. It is not very effective.

“It was developed as a means to contain the Nightmare. It was my hope that I could find a way to release my sister early and entrap the malevolent entity possessing her. I tasked the greatest minds of several generations to develop a way to free her from its influence and the staff is the result.

“The project began just after her imprisonment and, I confess, I was not completely in the right state of mind. While it should work, in theory, ultimately I could not find a way to safely undo the Elements’ banishment. There’s no reason to be concerned, though. The staff is securely locked away in one of my vaults right here in Canterlot.”

He points a hoof at her and says, “You just guaranteed it isn’t right there. A thousand bits says it’s missing.”

“There is no way anypony has successfully bypassed the locks and taken it without my knowledge,” she defiantly argues.

“You’re just doubling down. Ten thousand bits says it’s gone now.” The princess scowls at the colt, offended he doubts her assurances. He argues, “This Storm King dude gets his hands on it somehow, otherwise how would I know it exists at all? Just like the others, he’s stopped by Magic, but he still causes a ton… err, a lot of damage during the invasion. I would be delighted if that mess never got off the ground in the first place.”

“I will check immediately after our discussion,” she assures him.

“Can you check now? Is it something you can do in just a second?”

“I suppose, if it will bring you peace of mind. I will have to deactivate the privacy spell,” she motions to the walls. “Give me a moment.”

“Sure,” he happily agrees.

Celestia’s horn glows brighter for a moment before the walls flash again. When the effect fades she vanishes in a flash of yellow light. Cure gets up and walks over to the door to open it and poke his head outside.

“Hey Sarge?” he calls to his unicorn guard.

“Sir?”

“I know the princess does her fancy spell to call for refreshments, but I don’t know what it is,” he says as he pushes the door open so the six guards can see inside. “She teleported out to check on something real fast. I know y’all ain’t servants or nothin, but is there any chance somepony knows how to call for some drinks or whatever?”

“Specialist Redshift,” he calls as he turns to the pegasus on the princess’s detail.

“Sir!”

“Please flag down a servant and request some… water?” he asks, looking back to Cure.

“Sure, maybe some tea for the boss lady?”

The sergeant gives a firm nod and continues, “Water and tea for their highnesses. Also, have them bring some biscuits with it.” He smirks at the colt and adds, “Her majesty won’t be upset if there’s some sweets on the cart, will she?”

A round of chuckles escape the group and Cure can’t help but nod in agreement. “I’m confident she will not, sergeant. If you really wanna get on her good side, though, cake is where it’s at.”

“We’ve noticed,” her unicorn quietly mumbles.

“And if they bring two carts and one accidentally gets left out here,” Cure casually suggests with a shrug, “Oops.”

“That would be a real tragedy,” the sergeant agrees. “Get to it, specialist,” he orders.

The pegasus gives a curt nod and takes off down the hall. “Great! Thanks, fellas,” he says as he ducks back in the door.

He hops back on the couch and settles in, making a guess as to why the princess isn’t back yet. “Does not bode well,” he comments aloud to the empty room. He takes a deep breath and lays down, resting his neck and chin on the soft cushion. A few minutes pass until there’s a knock at the door. Cure hops up and opens it wide to find a pair of servants pushing a couple carts. The first has a few pitchers of water and a large, steaming pot of tea. The second has several plates with biscuits, cookies, and a couple slices of white cake on it.

Cure thanks the servants and asks that they come by later to pick up the carts. Once they’re gone he rearranges the carts’ loads so the tea, a pitcher of water, the cake, and a plate of biscuits are on the first, leaving the rest on the second. He pulls the first cart in the room and looks to the other. “Pardon me, gentlestallions. The room just seems too crowded with both carts in here. I sure hope all this doesn’t go to waste out in the hallway. Wink Wink.”

As he pushes the door shut he hears one of them ask, “Did he just say wink wink?” while the others immediately tell the stallion to shut his dumb mouth.

The door no more than latches shut before a flash illuminates the far side of the room. The princess, visibly frazzled, blinks to clear her vision before she locks onto the plate hovering in front of her snout. She goes crosseyed focusing on the cake Cure is holding for her before she takes it in her magic with a thanks.

“So did you get done checking the, I’m guessing, empty vault or did you just sense that cake had entered the room and didn’t want to miss out?”

Despite the scowl she sends him she doesn’t waste a second tearing off a quarter of the slice with her magic and tossing it in her maw. “The vault was not empty, thank the maker. That said, the staff is missing. It looks as if it has been for quite a while.”

“Oh, lovely,” he comments as he hops back up on his couch. He rolls the cart between them and slightly to the side and pours her a cup of tea and himself some water. “Our guards were kind enough to send for refreshments. Is the spell you use to call somepony something you can show me?”

“It’s just Sending. You just need to know who is on the schedule for the day. I’ll have a daily schedule delivered to your room starting tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. So, the staff?”

She lets out a weary sigh, idly looking around the room. Her horn flashes and the wards reactivate as the last few bites of her cake disappear. Cure looks at his slice, then meets the princess’s eyes before he conspicuously turns around to admire a random bookshelf. The gentle click of porcelain being set down on a cart a few seconds later signals it’s time for him to turn back and be perplexed by his missing dessert.

“Odd, I didn’t hear any mice,” he mumbles.

“They are very sneaky,” she insists as she takes a small sip of her tea. “I will speak to Captain Shield and put an alert out in regards to the staff. I would rather not spread word to the masses that such a relic has disappeared. Unlike the amulet, the staff itself does not emit an easily trackable form of magic.”

“Detect Magic wouldn’t work?”

“Not unless a substantial amount of energy has already been absorbed into the crystal.”

“Wonderful. I don’t suppose your whole ‘eye in the sky’ trick works on things like it does on creatures, does it?”

“It does not.”

“Even better. Can you show me what it looks like?”

“Certainly. It was not my finest work,” she comments as she projects an image.

“Yeesh. Did you go through a goth phase or something?”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Black clothes, pale colors, whiny entitled attitude, shitty music about how unfair the world is. Basically what everypony else thinks is neat is lame but caring enough to do something about it takes effort so instead they just smoke and brag to each other how much they dislike crap.”

“Umm… okay.”

“Never mind,” he says with a dismissive wave. “I don’t suppose you put a failsafe in it? Some kind of self-destruct you can cast remotely?”

The thoughtful frown is enough of an answer. That may be something nopony has ever considered with weapons before, he guesses.

He follows up asking, “How about any weakness it has? Fire magic, smashing the crystal, anything like that?”

“It will absorb most forms of energy, fire included. The crystal is an extremely high quality one capable of holding unfathomable amounts of power. I would not recommend shattering it while nearby. The staff, while sturdy, is the best place to strike it. A strong enough blow will break it and disable the entire unit without the risk of an explosion.”

“Got it. Me find rock. Smash good.”

“So eloquent.”

Cure grunts in the affirmative. The two pause for a moment to refresh their drinks and grab a treat. He finally breaks the silence moving on to the next subject. “Star Swirl the Bearded.”

“What about him?”

“He’s alive, trapped in limbo with the other pillars.”

“What?! Cure, how could you not tell me this last time?! Do you know what I would give to see him again? For over fifteen hundred years I’ve wondered what happened to him and you could have told me months ago?”

“Do you know how to open a portal to limbo?”

She wrinkles her snout in a grimace before reluctantly answering, “... No. Do you?”

“I do not. I just know that he and the other Pillars are banished with the Pony of Shadows, who was originally his assistant or something. Magic happens upon something and somehow tracks down the location, I think. Does the word Ponehenge mean anything to you or was that just something someone made up?”

“Ponehenge is deep in the woods just south of the Foal Mountains, not far from Baltimare.”

“Oh. Oops. Well either way I haven’t the slightest idea how to free them. All I know is that they locked themselves away with the Shadow. I would bet good money one can’t be released without the other and, given the name, we’re probably talking about something like the Nightmare.”

“That’s likely correct,” she agrees. “Without the Elements I am unsure how to go about defeating such a creature, and I obviously care not to build a second Staff in the hopes that it may work.”

“I would have serious objections to that as well,” Cure comments. “MacGuffins like that usually end up backfiring. The Elements are only so reliable, I bet, because they have a will guiding their actions.”

“MacGuffins?”

Cure adopts a lecturing tone and explains, “A plot device that’s usually unquantifiable. Think ultimate weapons or secret moves in literature. When the protagonist uses X, whatever X may be, it means the bad pony is about to lose, almost no matter what. Not always, though; X will fail nearly one hundred percent of the time if the antagonist is only just released or if X was built specifically for that exact scenario.

“That’s doubly true if you brag about how X will definitely work, and it just keeps getting worse the more you downplay the threat specifically because you have X on your side. The counter there is if the villain mocks X saying it could never work. The more they mock X or the protagonist the harder they’re going down.

“Also, X will always work if the protagonist has to spend time after their initial defeat to improve it, or if the life of their love interest depends on X working. It’s even more powerful when an innocent is threatened like a foal or whatever.” The colt gives a firm nod at the end of his rant.

Celestia stares for a few seconds completely bewildered, then breaks down in a fit of laughter. She laughs boisterously for nearly thirty seconds while he stares on in confusion. Her laughter comes to a sudden stop when she realizes that, despite the absurdity of the claim, Cure appears to have not been joking at all.

Taking in his stoic visage, Celestia slowly asks, “You… you cannot truly believe that, right?”

“Absolutely. You don’t?” he asks, equally baffled.

“Cure… that is not true to real life at all.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “I promise you, it really is. This is a world in which narrative causality is a real force. Have you not ever seen the pattern?”

“There is no pattern to be seen,” she argues.

He looks at the ancient mare with a renewed sense of wonder. “Oh my stars… you’re blind to it! When you said nopony could predict cutie marks I thought maybe you were just saying that! No wonder that’s obscured to you when it’s so freaking obvious to me. I’m an outside context problem!”

A look of alarm crosses her features for a moment until she seemingly dismisses the idea. “I propose that the phenomenon may not be anything to be concerned about. While being able to notice that which others do not may be due to your unique situation, it does not necessarily indicate there’s any reason to worry.”

“I don’t…” he pauses in thought for a moment before restarting. “I would somewhat agree that it’s not a big deal, but there are probably some instances where a pony has a name that sounds innocuous to you all, I’ll recognize the potential issue right away. The best example I can think of involves a pair of scam artists whose names, when combined, are another name for a scammer.”

“Do they cause significant problems or are they mere nuisances?”

“The latter, I think. What’s weird is that they also seemed to be brilliant inventors that could’a made way more doing that than scammin ponies. It’s like they had a compulsion and didn’t use common sense at all.”

“That is perhaps more of a concern,” she agrees. “I would suggest you make note of such ponies, but attempt to remain unbiased. If you were to come across one that causes you grave concern then, by all means, inform me. I promise I will at least listen to your concerns. I would, however, encourage you to take care when taking action.”

“I know. I’m already careful with that stuff. Why do you think I set up Drift and Rising like I did instead of just telling them?”

“Good,” she says with a single nod of approval. “That still leaves me with what to do about my mentor.”

“I’d suggest waiting until you have a plan to deal with something at least as powerful as Nightmare Moon; a plan that doesn’t just rely on one lynchpin to succeed. You know how I dealt with the train assholes. Plan like that. Overwhelming force with little or nothing left to chance. Prepared backup to cover my flanks and redundancies to account for nearly every variable.”

“Except a stun spell,” she argues.

“You think?” he smirks. He spreads his wings wide. “Fire away, boss.”

She raises a curious brow and, at his encouraging nod, fires a basic stun bolt at the colt. The shot impacts square on his chest and discharges over him to no effect. “How?”

“Dragon scale insulated, enchanted subdermal armor. Give me ten seconds of prep time and I’m almost magic-proof below my skin.”

“Fascinating. I may ask for assistance developing wearable armor like that in the future if you’d be amenable to it. Cold iron works well, but is not easy to work or shape.”

“I’m not completely opposed. That may help with the Shadow, but we would still need offensive options.”

“Indeed. I will still have an expeditionary force dispatched from Fort Meadow to survey the site.”

“Perimeter only!” he insists in a raised voice. “They should have strict orders not to enter the… monument? Formation?” She nods. “Yeah, tell them you believe it to be a trap of some kind, which is true, and they should secure the perimeter without stepping hoof near the monument itself.”

“That is reasonable,” she agrees. “I will directly order that none are to enter the immediate area, nor are they to interact with it in any way. I will need to organize a group of researchers to survey it… that is okay, right?”

“As long as none of them is a conceited idiot, sure. It’s always the dude that says, ‘There’s nothing here!’ or ‘These are just rocks and you’re wasting my time!’ They’re the one that’ll accidentally set it off in the worst possible way. Or they’ll be a secret cultist thinking they can steal the Shadow’s power or subjugate it somehow. Gotta watch for that too.”

She stares for a moment, then rubs at her temples. “You truly are the most paranoid colt on the planet, aren’t you?”

“Probably,” he easily agrees.

“Are there any other possibly made up locations I need to dispatch guards to?”

The colt scoffs, insisting, “Don’t blame me for that! I figured Ponehenge was just another stupid pony pun.”

“Pony pun?”

“Really?” he asks, a single brow hiked.

“Really, Cure. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Eh, I guess you wouldn’t. Lemme just put it this way, this whole world is just full of stupid pony puns. City names, ponies’ names, locations… puns everywhere. It’s maddening at times,” he solemnly admits. “Name a city.”

“Okay. Canterlot,” she offers with a shrug.

“Camelot was a fictional city from old stories that, as far as I recall, was about as close to utopia as humankind could envision at the time. See? Pony pun.”

“Okay, Baltimare.”

“Baltimore. It’s a major city in the state of Maryland. A state is a province, essentially. Part of the country that Edward lived in. Its full name is The United States of America, which is a funny coincidence, but it was named after some dude, not a pony. A lot of their cities’ names are really similar, just ours have a pony word substituted in somewhere. Like Manehattan instead of Manhattan. Fillydelphia instead of Philadelphia. Chicoltgo, Chicago, Foaledo, Toledo. The list goes on.”

“Cloudsdale doesn’t have any pony words in its name.”

“It does not,” he agrees. “Cloudsdale is a little different. There isn’t an equivalent city I can think of, but there is a breed of horses -”

“Horses exist on… I don’t believe you told me the world’s name. I assume it differs?”

“Yep. Earth, and yes, they have horses. I’m fairly confident that the vast majority of animals that exist on Earth exist here too. The opposite isn’t always true though. Anything with magic like a cockatrice you can safely assume are either nonexistent or only exist in old legends. Dragons, griffons, kirin… those are all mythical creatures on Earth.

“Don’t misunderstand me, though. The only sapient creature on the entire planet is humans, though there’s an argument to be made that some animals have some of the signs of sapience. Dolphins and elephants are generally thought of as more intelligent, but they’re not even close to how smart animals can get here.

“So while they have ponies, yaks, deer, and a number of other creatures that are or can be sapient here they are literally just dumb animals on earth. I’m pretty sure that a pony is, by their definition, a different kind of horse, just not as tall. I mean, there’s different breeds, like I was saying about clydesdales. Those, in particular, are pretty large horses. They used to be, and still are in some areas, beasts of burden.”

“This,” she waves a hoof at the colt, “is very much an example of where I feel you differ significantly from a typical pony. I think most would be exceedingly upset at the prospect of a creature that is similar to themselves but is being treated like an animal.”

“Eh… probably at first, but there’s a number of physical differences that would make it less weird. Basically everything from the shoulders forward is very different, they have longer, taller barrels. I mean, there’s no denying that the overall look is close, but from what I understand of deer, they’re far closer to their non-sapient cousins here than we are to ponies of earth.”

“I suppose that is a valid point,” she concedes.

“It’s kinda funny, but you, with your wings and taller stature, bear more than a passing resemblance to a very famous mythical creature on Earth. A divine winged horse named Pegasus. As in, proper name, not a type of horse or pony. This’ll freak ya out right proper, I bet. Have a look,” he says with a smirk as he projects the famous TriStar logo, though the quality isn’t the best due to his imperfect memories.

Celestia looks at the image and slowly pans her gaze back to the snickering colt. “You have got to be joking,” she deadpans.

“Nope. It’s weird as fudge, isn’t it?”

“If you had started this conversation with that I would have thrown you out of the castle,” she admits. “Dispel that… image,” she commands, face full of disgust.

“I wouldn’t be too offended. Pegasus is considered an exceedingly beautiful creature. He was a full-blown god, I think. That image was used as a company’s logo. A large, successful one. Of course, even with its worldwide fame, in the ‘girls aged six to twelve’ demographic Pegasus couldn’t hold a candle to your popularity.”

“I am popular with foals in another world?”

“Oh yeah. Like you wouldn’t believe. Maybe not anywhere near as popular as your sister, but still…”

Completely unperturbed by the suggestion, Celestia curiously asks, “Humans like Luna more?”

“It’s not even close. Luna was way, way more popular than anypony else in the show. She was more popular than the friggin main characters, even!”

“Show?”

“Right, duh, I didn’t even really cover that part. The version of this world I saw was distributed to humans in a form of entertainment we don’t have an equivalent to. It was called television and, as the name implies, it allows viewers to watch something that is occurring in a location other than where the viewer is.”

Cure projects a basic Illusion of a television from Edward’s childhood. “This is a television. One from early on in Edward’s life. Just like airplanes, technology advanced rapidly over the years. The one he bought a few years before he passed,” he changes the Illusion, “was thinner, lighter, had a far superior picture, better sound, and some capabilities that would lead into far more tangents that will keep us here all night.”

Celestia hums in thought. “So these televisions… this is the source of your knowledge of the future?”

“Yes. Or, at least, the ‘Original Story’ that I described. A television show came out around ten years before he died. It was incredibly popular, not just with the target demographic-”

“The foals aged six to twelve?”

“Right. Like goats, humans call their young kids, so if you hear me say that, there ya go. Anyhow, the show was called,” he pauses a moment for dramatic effect, then alters the illusory television’s display as he announces, “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.”

Celestia once again pans from the illusion to the smirking colt. “Great! Now I will think of this every single time I say that.” Cure just snickers in response, nodding along. “I have been using that line for over a thousand years. Do you have any idea how annoying that’s going to be? Having that,” she waves at the TV, “pop up in my head every time?”

“Wow, I may have unleashed the world’s first memetic hazard!” he proudly beams. Her raised brow prompts him to explain. “A memetic hazard is where a word or phrase gets associated with something else to the point where it is annoying and you can’t get it outta yer head. Back on topic, the first episode of the show was what I described on the balcony last time. You send a unicorn to Ponyville, your sister returns, the Elements free her, etcetera.

“Humans, for whatever reason, associate more closely with imperfect beings. Luna, having fallen from grace and been redeemed, became a hit with viewers. Her struggles to be accepted by ponies also struck a chord with the audience. I assume the authors of the show had her doing funny, quirky things just to get a laugh. It all added up and, as a result, Luna was insanely popular even though I don’t think she was in a whole bunch of episodes.”

“And my portrayal was more idyllic?”

“Kind of. It’s a show for little kids and the protagonist, Magic, has to have burdens to overcome, so your portrayal had you making some really questionable decisions. Most episodes are unrealistic; the premise is to provide entertainment to kids while teaching them lessons, particularly about friendship as you may have gathered. The whole series leads up to her eventually assuming the throne when you and Luna retire.”

Her brows shoot right up to her maneline with that suggestion. “I retire? From ruling Equestria?”

“Yup. The passage of time is kind of unclear, but the series ends somewhere between seven and ten years after it starts. Magic has only been an alicorn for five or six years at that point, so if you try that here I will literally glue you to that throne. She needs a solid ten years of governing experience before I’d even put her in charge of a city, let alone the whole shebang.”

“It wouldn’t matter,” she casually remarks. “With your coronation you would be next in line for the throne either way. Love would be after you and you would both have seniority even over my sister, in fact. The nation was technically reestablished with a new capital after her banishment, so she will legally not be a princess immediately upon her return. She will need to be crowned before she could assume any royal duties.”

Cure gawks, open mouthed, at the statement. He pours another glass of water and, in one move, chugs the entire thing. A full-body shudder escapes him while the princess watches on, smiling in genuine satisfaction.

She has to hold back a laugh when he stands and begins pacing back and forth on the couch, muttering and cursing under his breath. Credit where it’s due; humans, she ponders, appear to be quite accomplished profaners. The stream of expletives that spill from the colt goes beyond inappropriate clear into begrudgingly impressive.

“Feel better now?” she asks when he finally stills and flops on his rear.

“Not particularly,” he admits with a huff. “Well… whatever,” he growls ruffling his wings in agitation. “I’ve already laid out my plans if I’m put in charge. Find able leaders, show them how to use their talents properly, set up an overwatch committee, and make a brutal example of anypony that betrays the public trust. It would suck for the first few years, but otherwise… meh.”

“And if that day were to ever come that would be your choice. I do not think that is for me, though.”

“I mean, whatever. I’ve already voiced my concerns there. Have you considered having at least a few ponies that can cover for you so you can take time off?”

“Well that’s what I have you for!” she exclaims with another round of laughter.

“The fffrick you do!” he grows back. The way he lowers himself into a pounce strikes the princess as inordinately adorable and she can’t help but laugh aloud. He responds with a cute pout and hangs his head, pawing at the couch with a forehoof. “Big ‘ol mean bully. Pickin on innocent lil colts,” he whines with a fake sniffle.

“Yes, yes. You’re horribly mistreated,” she patronizes with an exaggerated nod.

“Made me work for free all day then mentally abuses me before bed. I’m filing a complaint with my union rep.”

“Inexplicably,” she begins, “I believe we have gotten off topic again.”

“True. Hey, you wanna see a short snippet with you and Luna from the show?”

“Certainly. I am truly interested now.”

The colt gives her a nod and focuses on the mental image. “This is only like a thirty second clip of the show. I’m projecting myself in place of the actual pony that was there, but… here ya go.” Cure projects the scene between the two, doing the best he can to faithfully reproduce it despite the fact he barely remembers the actual lines.

The aesthetic is all wrong, even if he did try to “cartoon-ize” it as much as he can recall. Rather than the animated Celestia, her larger barrel and more realistic face bleed into the projection. Luna, he suspects, is more like the animated memory, but with her being such a popular character outside of the series he isn’t sure if he used the correct depiction for that point in the show.

Celestia watches completely enthralled by the scene, short as it is. A choked sob escapes her when her sister first speaks and, once again, a poor, innocent handkerchief meets an untimely, sopping end.

“As you may have gathered just from that short bit, the premise of the episode is that each of you thinks the other has an easier job. The pony that I substituted myself in for has a ridiculously powerful talent; she can remove ponies’ cutie marks and, though I don’t know if she could normally do so, in that episode she swaps yours and your sister’s along with your talents.”

“I see. So the lesson was…?” she inquires.

“Eh, probably that we should appreciate what other ponies do. Maybe a little of the whole ‘the grass is greener’ thing too. I dunno, I just remember Alanna demanded pancakes for dinner after that episode aired. She turned her nose up at strawberries her whole friggin life up to that point, but when Princess Celestia decorated her pancakes with ‘em, all the sudden the seeds didn’t look like tiny bugs anymore.” He scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief. “Kids.”

“Foals often place greater value on the opinion of others even before their parents,” she comments.

“Grandparents too, apparently,” he agrees. “Edward never had children himself but his wife had a couple before they met; a son, Josh, and daughter, McKynzie. Josh… made poor choices. He died in an accident a little before he would have turned twenty-two. Alanna was McKynzie’s daughter. I just wish I knew if she made it,” he confesses in a pained voice.

Celestia, he can tell, is curious, but clearly feels like she shouldn’t ask. “About eight months before Ed’s death a strain of flu started spreading all over the world. An upper respiratory infection. Cough, fever, aches. The works. It was bad enough it could even cause permanent lung damage.

“It spread like wildfire,” he continues. “On a planet with about seven billion humans,” the number causes a jolt in the princess, her brow once again shooting up in surprise, “it had claimed hundreds of thousands of lives, maybe a million, just in that short span of time.

“Alanna had a fever one day.” He continues despite her soft gasp, “so her daycare wouldn’t let her go there. We watched her so Kynzie could go to work. Within a few days we were both sick too. It took Cyndi first… Ed didn’t make it another day without her.” Celestia quietly climbs off her couch, leans against Cure’s, and pulls him against her chest. Cure takes a deep breath and leans his head over her left shoulder.

The two stay like that for a moment until Celestia finally breaks the silence. “Never doubt that you can talk to me, Cure, but if you do not want to share I will not force it. I know all too well the pain of losing those you care about.” He gives her a small nod as she sets him back down. Rather than return to her couch, she curls up behind him on his, laying half on her left side with his rear under her right foreleg pit.

“Thanks, princess,” he quietly mumbles as he nuzzles into her chest. The pair take a moment to reheat or chill their drinks and polish off the rest of the snacks. Cure legitimately wonders how the princess isn’t humongous; he can just dump excess fat straight into his pouches, but he hasn’t seen her do any physical activity. Perhaps running at a higher temperature means she’s always burning off a bit more, he guesses.

“Alright, so I think there’s only one more potential issue, but I think if Tirek never becomes a problem then this one won’t either. Remember I mentioned the filly or short pegasus?”

“I do. And I have already taken steps to ensure that nopony could possibly get their hooves on the bell.”

“Good. Just a heads-up, I think Discord may have had a hand… claw… whatever in that, so if you haven’t already specifically warded for his brand of trouble then you may wanna.”

“Again, after we spoke I took precautions. That threat should be neutralized.”

“Okay. Just know that in about a hundred years if a diminutive pegasus with a pink coat starts buddying up to somepony important that she may be trouble. I don’t know what her cutie mark will be, but I remember she really plays up the whole naive, innocent act. I think she says golly a lot, but I’m not sure. Even without the bell she’s still somepony to watch out for.”

“As long as she cannot start stealing everypony’s magic then she should not be too much of a threat.”

“Good deal, boss. I think that should be about all of the big ones for Equestria. The Griffon Kingdom will, at some point, collapse when some cyclops… err, one-eyed, huge goat, ram thing steals some idol of theirs. He kinda succeeds but falls into a trench afterwards and dies like a moron.”

“That could only be the Idol of Boreas, but what you described sounds like one of the Arimaspi.”

“Oh. I thought that was his name. So there’s a whole race of them?”

“There is. They are extreme isolationists and live far to the southwest of the Appaloosan Mountains.” She frowns in thought and cocks her head to the side, wondering aloud, “How could one possibly get to Griffonstone? To my knowledge they are somewhat… wild. I struggle to believe one would simply sail across the ocean.”

Cure glances up at the princess unable to offer any suggestion. The Griffon Kingdom is on the opposite side of an ocean, so it does seem a little strange. “Dunno boss, but we could probably get a big ‘ol heap of goodwill if we tipped ‘em off and prevented that catastrophe. That could be happening anytime now; there wasn’t a timeframe given in the show, just that it happened ‘long ago.’ I’m guessing it hasn’t already happened, right?”

“No. We routinely trade with the griffons for a number of metals, particularly iron. Saddle Arabian goods pass through their ports as well. King Guto is… perhaps not a friend, exactly, but not an enemy. I will make arrangements for a missive to be sent to the embassy here in the capital. I don’t know how much trust they will place in such a prophecy, especially with an undefined timeframe, but a warning costs little either way.”

“Okay. Just an FYI, if it does happen I’m pretty confident I could retrieve the thing. I mean… it’s shown to be at the bottom of some windy chasm. It’s not like climbin down there would be hard for me.”

“No, I suppose it would not. If the need arises I will keep that in mind. I may discuss our readiness to render aid with Chancellor Fair Start. Even having options considered before such a tragedy arises could save countless lives.”

“Great idea, princess. That’s the last future event I can think of. Now that I’ve thoroughly dismantled the future timeline, how about we talk tech?”

“How do you mean?”

“Last time I came here I dumped a whole lot on your plate as far as things I could do for pony society with my talent. I supposed this time won’t really be all that different. Edward wasn’t a scientist, but he was an avid reader.”

“Ah, so all the times you said ‘I’ve read about it’ before?”

“Yep. Human technology reached a point where information no longer had to physically travel to be accessible. Like how magic can Send messages, technology could store, retrieve, and display info almost instantly on devices somewhat like that TV.

“It was all shared in a globally interconnected network called the internet. I won’t get into the specifics because it’s not relevant now. Long story short, while I couldn’t build that spaceship that I showed you, I know enough about airplanes to put smart ponies on the path that could eventually lead to it.

“Instead of a hundred and twenty years I could give them enough hints and suggestions that they could figure it out in maybe half that, for example. Magic gives such an absolutely enormous advantage because it lets us skip some of the ‘build the tools to build the tools to build the item’ steps that humanity had to trudge through.”

“You’re proposing that we use your knowledge from humanity to uplift our own society,” she infers.

“Maybe. Slowly. I definitely wouldn’t recommend rushing a whole bunch of societal changes, especially given how stagnated pony society is. There’s also the issue of the far, far lower population numbers, so even with magic involved my estimates may be way off. Education levels were much higher on Earth too.

“I guess I’m suggesting that you consider specific areas of society that could improve and I can give you, usually, a rough idea of how humans achieved it. Maybe not always, but still. I plan on improving the health, telecommunications, and travel sectors of the economy at least. My talent’s so unfair that I can do the first one almost by myself.”

“As Director Storm noted, you already have made a truly astounding difference. In not even a year you’ve casually addressed illness, injury, and fertility issues quite effectively.”

“I can deage ponies, by the way. For real, not just cosmetically. I have enough magic to do it since my ascension.”

Celestia sighs and hangs her head. “Of course.”

“If you have any highly valuable ponies getting on in their years you may want to start planning for that. I can do one every hour or so. More if I only shave a few years off or if they’re younger. My great grandparents are all in their early twenties now.

“I’ve still been doing the cosmetic procedure ‘cause I don’t know how to deal with that so far, but I’ve made sure that all of my customers are healthy, if not actually younger, so there’s no rush there. Age alone does not kill, after all.”

“Last time you were here you said you have ideas on how you may accomplish true age reversal without your direct involvement. Have you made any progress?”

“Kinda, but I’m a little worried about the delivery mechanism. I’d like to get a look at changeling pods and see if I can use a modified version of those. Not just for age reversal, but also for healing.”

“Pods? I don’t know anything about any pods they have.”

“In the show they capture ponies and put them in pods. It makes the pony sleep, basically, but keeps them alive and healthy otherwise. Or, at least, that’s what seems to be happening. If I could get a sample of the solution they’re using I could modify it for whatever application.”

“Interesting.”

“Did you lock them all in a volcano?”

“No? Where did you get that from?”

“One of those alternate timeline things. The story didn’t give details, but supposedly you or your allies caught them trying to take over some cities and ended up imprisoning them all in a volcano.”

“The description is inaccurate, but not wholly incorrect. After the siege of Trot we pursued them to the south. The jungles of Amarezonia slowed us immensely, giving them time to entrench themselves on a small island just a short flight off the coast in the Crystal Sea.

“Though no longer active, several of those islands were formed from underwater volcanoes. With our supply lines stretched to the extreme and the prospect of another extended siege, I, along with every available mage, sealed the island away, not unlike what Sombra did to the Crystal Empire.”

“Shouldn’t they be gone for like… a really long time, then?”

“They should,” she nods. “And I have confirmed that they are still banished.”

“You flew out and checked?”

“No. The dome is visible through my sun.”

“Are you sure you got ‘em all?”

“I can’t be certain, but there have been no signs of any for centuries. It was actually around that same time that diplomatic channels with the hippogriffs dissolved.” A questioning glance from the colt prompts Celestia to explain, “There was a… dispute involving a liaison and the son of their royal family. It escalated rather quickly.”

“What? Did he knock your liaison up or something?”

She cringes before slowly admitting, “It was somewhat more of a scandal than that. The liaison was also a stallion. They did not approve of such relationships, and reacted poorly when the pair were discovered. Unreasonable demands were made and, when I refused them, Queen Skystride expelled all Equestrian ponies from their island.”

“That sounds reasonable,” he snarks. “I propose that, again, once I’ve grown up a bit, we look at checking on whether there’s any changelings that may have escaped the effect. If I can get a look at how their pods work I can hopefully replicate them and adjust them to do more than just put ponies to sleep. What’s the plan for when that island pops back into existence? I’m thinkin they’re gonna be pretty pissed off.”

“Honestly, until you mentioned them at our last meeting I hadn’t even thought of them in… centuries, I suppose. Until there is evidence of their return the plan, as it were, is to continue checking on the island every so often. It is simply too far away from our borders to have Guard units posted, and if the island were to return their only recourse would be to immediately flee.”

“Alright, but I would at least consider having some kind of screening process ready to go for any new arrivals in towns near the border. That way there’s at least a procedure in place for when you notice that island has reappeared.”

Celestia nods in agreement. “That is a reasonable proposal. With them being several hundred years out of touch I’m sure any attempt at infiltration will be quite difficult. I will have a screening process drafted and task researchers at the Assembly with developing a myriad of illusion penetrating spells.”

“You may want to have them plan around the illusion as much as trying to penetrate it. If they’re actually doing some kind of shapeshifting then an illusion breaker may not work. I would ask this not be shared, but the way I suspect I could detect them is by scent. Their breath, their body odor, the absence of pony smells, maybe even the lack of iron in their blood. I doubt they would account for all of that.

“We could also subject them to a medical scan, ask for urine samples, pluck some fur or a piece of their mane, check their weight to ensure it’s in line with whatever tribe somepony presents as, even draw a blood sample if possible. I can’t imagine that their illusion or shifting is perfect. Chances are there’s a difference in skeletal structure or bone density or something.”

“Those are fairly invasive tests, Cure. I think most ponies would object to them on principle.”

“Tough shit. If they’re trying to enter the country and don’t have citizenship paperwork then, if nothing else, it’s appropriate to ensure they’re not carrying some kinda unknown infection or whatever. Even if they do have citizenship paperwork they still have to get through a customs check, I assume. Do we get a lot of ponies showing up unexpectedly at border towns?”

“No. My…” she pauses and lets out a sigh, “My little ponies rarely travel outside of the country. Those that do are required to declare what they are bringing with them so that contraband is stopped at the border. I suppose if there is a valid health concern it is only appropriate to ensure it cannot spread to others. I will discuss this as well, but I am not optimistic given the difficulty of implementing it.”

“Even as a twenty year project it’s still a good idea. I know the port in Baltimare is monitored. If it can be done there it can be done at other borders too.”

“True. I can only assume the governments of Earth had similar procedures?”

“Entire countries were quarantining themselves when Ed died. The pandemic completely destroyed the travel industry. Even before that most countries went to great lengths to know exactly who is coming or going.”

“Interesting. You had mentioned waiting until you are older to begin looking for changelings. Is this a project you would like to be put in charge of?”

“Maybe not put in charge. I’m sure you have smart ponies with experience. I see myself as a… I dunno what the right term is. ‘Asset’ comes to mind, but isn’t exactly right. Either way, I’m a good counter to changelings.

“I’m confident I could detect one even without scanning them, I’m probably physically stronger than one even now, mind control and venoms won’t work on me, and by the time I’m an adult I doubt any but a queen will be more magically powerful. I’m like… their worst nightmare, basically.”

Celestia nods as she considers the argument. Truthfully, the colt will be an absolute terror to anypony he determines is an enemy. Waiting until he’s older and more powerful will also give her time to teach him how to counter Mind Control as well as develop means to deal with attacks like petrification, which are some of the very few weaknesses she can identify.

That the colt is willing and, seemingly, eager to take a more active role in the welfare of the nation is a wonderful sign as well. When he first ascended it certainly seemed like he would be reluctant to help outside of healthcare; something she would have been willing to accept as more than sufficient. This new interest, along with his offer to help uplift ponykind, are worth encouraging.

“I know what you mean, but I would argue that you will be, if anything, their savior. If their curse can be lifted and they can be integrated into society they will, by a wide margin, benefit from your efforts more than anypony. As a prince, a more appropriate role may be as an advisor rather than some kind of combatant.”

“I suppose. You’ve dealt with predatory species enough I’ll trust your judgment. Just in case any are on the loose, have you notified guards to report disappearances and stuff?”

“Immediately after your visit,” she confirms. “Any such reports are to be flagged and sent not only here but also to nearby Forts for regional distribution. We have had a couple come in already, but in most instances it was a misunderstanding and the pony was simply traveling. Guard units have been ordered to more thoroughly investigate unusual behavior that may have previously been dismissed as well.”

“Damn, I’m glad you’re on top of things.”

“I take threats to my lit… damnit!”

Cure can’t help but chuckle at the growl she lets out. “I read ya loud and clear, boss.”

“Good,” she huffs.

“Well… brace yerself boss, ‘cause we ain’t done yet.”

She lets out another sigh. “I suppose I did ask for this.”

“Have you ever met an earth pony that’s much stronger than they should be?”

“Of course,” she responds. Earth ponies are always much stronger than they should be from a purely physical standpoint, as he well knows.

“There’s a good chance that they’re circulating magic through their muscles. Earth ponies can actively use all the same abilities they’re known to express passively. Pegasi already do it with weather manipulation, but earth ponies aren’t any different.”

“This… is from the show?”

“Active magic use was, sort of. It was only shown once that Ed could recall, but he raised an absolute fuss over it when he saw it. Honesty’s bearer used chloromancy to grow a plant right out of the ground. It was a little thing, but Ed remembered that clearly. I showed my parents how to do it, but at the time they had way more magic than me. Remember when I asked you about growin yer magic?”

“I do. I assume both you and your parents are doing so?”

“Uh huh. And all my friends. I gave ‘em all Sending crystals and told them to just Send a message every so often to burn off magic so they’ll grow up with a larger pool to draw from. A few, like Ferric, have shown others how to charge crystals and stuff too. Her boss at her job was payin a unicorn company to come out and charge their Sound Bubble crystals so they don’t get noise complaints. They can’t completely do it themselves yet, but eventually they will.”

“That’s fantastic, Cure!” she gushes, squeezing him tight against her side. “That reminds me, the auctions for your Prince Serpentus toys have been doing very well! You’ll be thrilled to know that the bids for the ones with a genuine feather are up over six hundred bits apiece. I suspect that number will climb sharply with your increased presence in town, not to mention the newspaper articles about how many families you are helping.”

“Sweet! Got any plans for how to use the money to teach earth ponies magic? I have one or two, but I don’t know if they’re possible.”

“I do, but I’m curious about your idea.”

“Lemme ask you this, princess…” he glances up at her and, sensing the seriousness of the question, she turns her head to look down. “Do you know of a way to, when you put Illusion in a crystal, that you can not only put in the spell itself, but also whatever you want it to project?”

The princess furrows her brows and tilts her head up in thought for a moment before realization dawns on her. “Your televisions? Were they used for education as well?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely. Illusion is way, way better than television too. Towards the end of his life humans had found a few ways to display things so that they appeared to be three dimensional, but Illusion can just… do it. It’s crazy that nopony’s done it before.”

“I believe it may be possible, but I would have to think about how it may work.”

“Cool. I have some other ideas I want to look into also. If it’s allowed, some day maybe I’ll offer a large bounty to the students at your school. Ya know, give ‘em an idea like the Illusion one and pay for the formula or something.”

“I…” she pauses in consideration before nodding. “That is a novel approach. There’s no reason it cannot be done as a type of scholarship, I suppose.”

“Awesome. I’ll need to figure out ideas and, once I’m ready, stop at my attorney’s offices and get the paperwork situated with them and the bank. I got a whole bunch of things I would like to see, but I would need to be in the right position to really leverage them.”

“Ideas such as?”

“A way to use Sending to a targeted crystal instead of a specific pony. Then a way to set up another crystal to act as a repeater in case the destination is out of range. A way for a crystal to activate other than directly by a creature, maybe, or a way to interconnect crystals to each other.

“I dunno, I got a million of ‘em, boss, and if there’s a pony out there that can figure stuff like that out I’ll happily hoof ‘em a fat ‘ol sack ‘a bits for the spell diagrams.”

“I am not opposed to it. I would recommend speaking to Principal Brightstar when you’re prepared. You’ll want to set some parameters to prevent formulas that, while functional, are completely unfeasible to use. A ten second Illusion requiring a high tier crystal, for example, would not be very useful.”

“Huh. Good point. I may want to try some things on my own, too. I wonder if I could make a tree that can activate a crystal, for example.”

“How could it possibly do so?”

“Can animals use crystals?”

“Some can,” she confirms, “but only the most highly intelligent ones. If a creature is mentally capable of speech then it should be capable of using a crystal.”

“Really?”

Images of flocks of barely intelligent birds swarming a battlefield, firing bolts of fire, ice, and concussive force flit through the colt’s mind. A hard bite on his left ear pulls him out of his revelry. “What the hay, boss?!” he shouts, looking up to meet her scowling gaze.

“I do not approve of that kind of maniacal laughter out of young colts, Cure. I can’t fathom what you were imagining, but I have no doubt I would not approve.”

He opens his mouth to argue, pauses and tilts his head in consideration, then begrudgingly nods in agreement. “Probably not. Anyhow, if an intelligent animal can use a crystal I may be able to make a plant with only enough brain power to project a stored memory.”

“That… sounds like something I’m not certain you should do.”

“I wouldn’t make something truly intelligent, but maybe there’s a way to have it be close enough to activate a crystal and play a pre-recorded message. I suppose, by the same token, I could just make a biological memory storage device that could convey memories without the Illusion, though. I mean, I’ve already got the template for something similar, I suppose.”

At her worried look he clarifies, “The virus trees. They have a brain-like structure that stores info to produce their medicines. It’s not intelligent at all, but it still can retain memories, of a sort.”

“I see. I suppose such creations would be allowed. Just be careful. The creation of invasive species and concerns regarding their propagation are amongst the many reasons biomanipulation is a restricted field of magic. Never create anything that can reproduce on its own,” she warns.

“I’m well aware of the risks, boss. Humans had stories about such things and the destruction they can cause. That’s why I went with vinegar as a trigger for the Origin Cell Trees; it’s not something they would normally encounter accidentally, so they won’t suddenly start spreading wild. The closest I came were the crops you had them take out of our garden, and those wouldn’t just suddenly spread like weeds or anything.”

“I can’t help but notice that you seem slightly perturbed at that.”

“I was a bit miffed at the time. I still don’t get why nopony just came to the house and talked to us.”

“The standard procedure is to err on the side of caution when dealing with ponies capable of restricted fields of magic; particularly ones whose special talent is the very school of magic. We were confident there was no issue, but we had to be certain before anypony could approach you.

“Before tests could even begin you had already started working with Sgt. Bulwark’s squads and, rather than causing a rift between you and your local guard unit, I assumed the responsibility of informing you myself.”

Cure processes the answer for a moment. It makes sense, but still seems like a dumb way to deal with the situation. “I get you accepting responsibility yourself, but I was already somewhat friends with most of the guards.

“A ‘Hey, just an FYI, we need to check that your plants aren’t going to spread like wildfire’ from Bulwark or Haze would have, if anything, prompted me to solicit official approval even earlier. What ticked me off more than anything is that they were taken and I didn’t even get any input on what was done with them.”

While he did a fairly good job of keeping his tone level, Celestia can easily tell there’s some underlying discontent regarding the event. “I had not anticipated this upsetting you so much,” she confesses. “Ensuring food security is a vital job of the government. The situation was addressed in the same way it normally would be, aside from me taking direct action.”

“Well… a main tenet of the government from my memories is the freedom of the individual. Government stepping in and taking unilateral action without offering any warning is not something most Americans would take kindly to.

“Look,” he says, dismissively waving a hoof while blowing out a sigh, “I’m not upset that it happened given the circumstances. The very principle that somepony could just walk onto our property and take something that wasn’t theirs just didn’t sit right. That I was then told what would happen to that stolen property without asking for input just added fuel to the fire.

“It didn’t take me more than a few minutes to accept that the whole tax rebate was a fair deal, so I obviously didn’t hold a grudge or nothin. I certainly am not angry with you or the guards, especially now. I can tell you that if I’d been payin attention to the garden and noticed the missing seeds, then found out on my own who’d taken ‘em… Well, it may have been the end of my cooperation with the Equestrian government as a whole if there wasn’t a darn good reason.”

Cure feels the princess’s muscles tense at the suggestion. To lose so much over something so trivial clearly was not a potential outcome she had anticipated. “Truly? A few seeds would have been enough to sour any potential relationship?”

“It would have depended on when and how I found out. If it’d happened immediately after being threatened by one of your guards? Maybe. I knew the value of what I could… what I can do. If it looked like your government was going to treat me like that, then take whatever they wanted away from me?” He blows out a sigh while shrugging. “I dunno. I knew I could go anywhere on the planet, more or less, and end up rich. If somepony was just going to take my stuff here then why would I stick around?”

“Safety? Security? Your family’s well-being? Your friends?”

He looks up to meet her eyes. In a genuinely curious tone he asks, “Do you really think I couldn’t keep my family safe? There were only four creatures on the planet that I considered potential threats at the time. One’s a lawn ornament, another is banished in the frozen north, and number three, assuming she’s even out there, could probably be made an ally or otherwise neutralized pretty easily as long as she didn’t catch me completely unprepared.

“As for my family’s well-being, I figured if I left and ingratiated myself with whatever country’s leadership I ended up in that we would be set and you wouldn’t risk war just to bring me home. Knowing what I can do, how thrilled would the griffons or the Saddle Arabians have been for me to show up asking to immigrate?”

“Exceedingly,” she concedes.

“And I knew that.” He halfheartedly shrugs and continues, “I’m a lot closer to most of my friends now than I was back in November, too. Leaving would have hurt, but I could have made new friends wherever I ended up.

“Ultimately it doesn’t matter. It all worked out for the best either way. If, maker forbid, another human ever shows up on the planet just let me deal with ‘em. They can be a prickly bunch and I certainly inherited that from Ed.”

Sensing her continued unease, Cure leans over to nuzzle into her chest again. “Really, boss, I’m glad it worked out like it did. You didn’t really have any way of knowing you weren’t dealing with a typical foal. There would be no reason to assume one of your little ponies would have such a strong opinion on property rights and an aversion to, what I viewed at the time, an overreach of government. It’s water under the bridge, I promise.”

“I’m relieved to hear. Still… to think that such a small thing could have led to such a potentially disastrous outcome. Perhaps it would be wise to spend more time considering options before acting should the situation come up again.”

“It couldn’t hurt.”

Celestia takes a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. The two take a moment to think; Cure considers what topic to bring up next while Celestia quells her worry with the knowledge that everything did indeed work out well. The colt had told her at dinner on his last visit that he considered loyalty far and away the most important tenet of Harmony. Not only that, but he also intrinsically links loyalty and honesty as almost a single value.

It’s little wonder, then, that the feeling of betrayal could have driven a wedge between the two of them before any friendship had the opportunity to develop. The thought of a foreign government having access to all the things he can do sends a shiver down her spine, especially in light of all the memories and capabilities he has that none could have ever possibly predicted. That Equestria may have lost out on so much over so little is a frightening prospect.

“Cutie marks can be used as magical foci for the activation of special talents, which appear to be powerful spells or repositories of knowledge accessed by directing magic through them like a unicorn does their horn.”

It takes a good five seconds for everything the colt had spouted out to register. “What?!”

He looks up to her and begins, “Cutie marks. They’re a physical manifestation of a pony’s special talent, right?”

“They are.”

“So they’re essentially linked to our metaphysical side.”

“I… suppose.”

“If you direct magic through them you can actively use special talents. At least, that’s what we’ve figured out so far. My sire gets a gut feeling helping him find the perfect house for ponies. My dam can grow food crops way better than others. Lemon knows exactly how to make stuff in her kitchen literally perfectly every time, Amethyst can divine the value of an object, and Title, I suspect, can find whatever information she’s looking for if she has a good enough starting point.

“The list goes on, boss. You know I can mess with biology. Ferric is either a god of war or of the forge with a hammer in her hooves. I bet you can much more easily control the sun. You do it with a spell right now, right?”

“Of course, that’s how my sister and I were taught to move the celestial bodies.”

“Yeah well, supercharge them flanks and I bet you can at least move the sun without nearly as much effort. You may need the spell for the moon, but I guess you’ll figure that out tonight.”

Rather than react strongly to the shattering of her worldview, Celestia simply sighs again. “This has been far more exhausting than I had anticipated.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda pooped too.”

“What’s one more huge reveal?” she tiredly asks.

“Dunno, boss. I think that’s about the last big one I can toss out there. I’m sure I’ll think of other smaller things eventually. How ya holdin up?”

Rather than respond verbally, Celestia rolls to her left to flop on her side. Cure lets himself be dragged along, content to snuggle against her chest between her forelegs. Her peytral is in the way a little, so he scoots up until it’s just below his withers.

He takes a moment to simply enjoy being held. His snout brushes gently against her neck, taking in the refreshing scent of her fur. “It’s gettin to be about that time, huh?”

She gives a shallow nod against him and confirms, “In about half an hour.”

“I think you can power down the wards. Unless you have something to share, that is.”

“I think I’m shared out at the moment,” she replies. Cure can feel a change in the air as she stops her spell. A faint tingle he could feel recedes, leaving behind nothing but stillness.

“I’ve dropped a lot on your withers again,” he begins, pausing only a second at her scoff, “but keep in mind that even without the foreknowledge, without whatever advances I can help with, and without any other change I make,” he twists to nuzzle his cheek against her neck, “you still win, princess.”

“Thank you, Cure. I have always believed things would work out. To not have to rely on faith alone… I can’t begin to tell you what a relief it is.”

“Sure thing. I mean, I live here too, so, ya know… can’t be lettin douchebags trounce around wreckin stuff.”

She carries on despite his modest deflection. “You’re doing a great service for both myself as well as the nation. If there is ever anything you would like, you know you can ask, right?”

“You’re giving me a crown, boss. I think I’m being fairly compensated.”

“Oh please, you made your lack of interest in the title quite apparent. Besides, you earned the crown with your ascension. I have given you nothing you are not owed. Technically, I haven’t given you anything at all, yet.”

“Crystals. You replaced the ones I blew up.” He feels her roll her eyes even without seeing them. “Fine, if I think of something I’ll let ya know. I’ll probably have to hang on to any favors for when I’m forced to hurt yer nobles anyhow. Merryland already all but suggested you faked my ascension for some reason.”

“He is not the only one,” she responds. “Word is that I’m weakening the nobility by inserting a pretender in a position above them. One with a powerful talent, yet young and starstruck, thus malleable to my whims.”

“Why? Not powerful enough by yourself? What’s the point?”

“They see elevating somepony else as lowering them. Worry not, there is nothing they can do.”

“Well just a heads up; if they do something funky to my family or treat them like dirt I’m going to be absolutely pissed.”

“As will I. That doesn’t really count as a favor, though.”

“Hmm. Okay. I’ll tell ya what,” he says as he rolls to his hooves. He scoots up to sit in the crook of her long neck and looks into her right eye. “At some point I,” he says, cocking a hoof at himself, “will cook a delicious dinner for you,” emphasized with a gentle cheek poke.

“It will have a variety of meat-flavored plants along with some things I know you’ll like. I only ask that you taste a few things, give me honest feedback, and afterwards I’ll tell you what the flavor is derived from. How’s that sound?”

“I… don’t know if I like this idea.”

“Why not? Nocreature gets hurt and I get to test a variety of plants I may end up selling to griffons or dragons some day. None of them will be pony or something, I mean… come on,” he rolls his eyes, “Gettin a buncha predatory species hooked on ‘me’ flavor sounds like a dumb idea all around.”

She tilts her head up to face him and asks, “You intend to sell meat-producing plants to other nations?”

“Again, why not? Humans guilted the fudge out of each other and we had tons of non-sapient choices to pick from. I can’t imagine how much it sucks to be an omnivore on this planet. Having stable, healthy, ethically-sourced food options that meet their carnivorous halves’ needs should help immensely. Not to mention be wildly profitable.”

“I… suppose there’s no harm in it,” she admits “Very well,” she sighs as she lays back down.

“Oh come on now, don’t be like that. If there’s anything you don’t like, even the smell of, I won’t insist you try it. You may find you really like something. Besides, I hear a certain somepony has a bit of a phobia regarding a variety of fowl that I happen to have hundreds of recipes for.”

Celestia doesn’t even need to look back to know the colt is smirking. “I don’t know what you could possibly be referring to,” she lies horribly.

“No way! It’s true?!”

“Of course not,” is her less than convincing response.

Chuckling evilly, he pokes her jaw with his snout and asks, “Celestia Sol, one of the most powerful creatures on the planet… is afraid of chickens?!” He catches movement behind him; his thermal sense tells him the mare subconsciously tucking her legs closer to her barrel.

Her right wing lifts slightly off her side as she attempts to deny the accusation. “No! Of course not!” she says in a tone that wouldn’t convince anypony. Her face contorts in an ugly rictus, heatedly exclaiming, “They’re just… disgusting little creatures! Ugh, the smell from their coops alone!”

“They shouldn’t smell that bad unless they’re not getting cleaned enough.”

“You’ve been around chickens?”

“No… memories, again. I guess with pony senses it could be worse. Humans’ sense of smell is pretty weak. Still, it’s bizarre that that is true.”

She lifts her head to regard the colt and asks, “What other secrets of mine do you know, Cure?”

“I dunno. Like I said, alternate timelines and such. The chicken thing was more of a joke. If I think of anything else I’ll ask, but I can’t think of anything else offhoof that wasn’t in your book.”

“Wonderful,” she flatly comments as she flops down. “I can’t wait.”

A few moments of silence stretch between the pair. Celestia feels him fidget while he turns to look around the room as if he’s searching for the next topic of discussion. Finally, he noses at her again and in a softer voice than she’s become accustomed to asks, “Would you be okay if I come with you when you raise the moon? I… don’t usually spend a lot of time alone and, well…” he trails off.

It occurs to her that, despite his typically confident demeanor, he is still physically a young colt; one who has no shortage of painful memories. It is no wonder his talent, not to mention his likely domain, are anathema to the very concept of death. “Of course you can,” she assures him. “I would be thrilled for you to join me, Cure.” She rolls to her barrel and nuzzles just behind his horn. “How about we send your parents a message, take a relaxing walk in the garden, test your cutie mark theory, raise my sister’s moon, and get you cleaned up for bed?”

A bright smile and eager nod are all the answers she needs.

Author's Note

So I did the best I could to proofread this on a mobile device. I do not currently have access to my PC and won't until tomorrow or later, so apologies if this has a few more errors than my chapters usually do.

Editing an 18k word chapter on a mobile device is not fun.

Oh well, enjoy everyone. Thanks for reading!