Soft Reset - A Novice Chronomancer's Guide to Tempomancy

by Foxvolt

Rating: teen
Tags: Violence, Princess Celestia, Death, Twilight Sparkle, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Princess Luna, Mystery, Spike, Suicide / Self Harm, Starswirl the Bearded, Profanity
Length: 141614

Chronomancy has been restricted by royal decree for centuries. When a mysterious entity known as ‘The Timekeeper’ begins to meddle, however, Twilight will need to pick a side as she learns more about the Princesses, and the times before Equestria.

Inspired by Eakin's Time Loop series.

In an alternate timeline where Star Swirl's Chronomantic works were never published and time magic was hushed into non-existence, the stallion learns a bitter reality about his Princesses, and the nature of the truth they guard.

One thousand years later ponies go about their daily lives, and Twilight Sparkle has never questioned the standards set by her mentor. When an unknown entity begins to stalk her from the shadows, attempting to manipulate her to their own ends, forcing that same truth onto her, will that faith stand?

--

Cover Art is AI generated.

Published 2022-12-07 18:50:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-01-03 15:25:25 UTC

1 - The Worst Painting in the World

Author's Note

As a fair warning, Soft Reset features many different perspectives at certain times.

It may be jarring at first, but discovering when and where you are in the story will be a common theme in most chapters.

1 - The Worst Painting in the World

THE WORST PAINTING IN THE WORLD

The air stirred gently, slight drafts pooling around the hooves of a score of colts and mares standing still throughout the throne room, stunned in shock and fear.

“…”

The celestial Goddess herself was standing before her throne, glaring with an open ire that threatened to boil the vast chamber and those within in its’ rising heat. The golden regalia adorning her would likely be melting into her perfectly maintained fur, threatening the mare’s calculatedly kept appearance were they not enchanted and warded to withstand the blazing fury of their bearer.

“…”

An unkempt mane of the night, billowing wildly in a non-existent hurricane, constellations and stars exploding in and out of perception on the fringes of the mare’s frame. Her gaze leveled back at the white-coated Alicorn sat at the throne, but unlike her this figure quaked openly. Not in fear, but frustration.

Both sisters had their hooves resting on a big, red button. One flinch, a mistimed blink, and it would all go nuclear.

The hoof-full of staff stuck in the place between life and death bearing witness to their crumbling diarchy were far from the only ones in the blast radius. The tightly packed stone roads sprawling out from the castle were lined with angry or disheveled ponies, holding hoof-made signs and banners depicting insignia of the moon or sun. Some were groomed and clothed, others ragged with earth-stained fur.

There were a lot more on Luna’s side.

The heat quelled a few degrees, the flames licking at the tips of Celestia’s mane suppressed behind a century-honed poker face. She took a deep breath and addressed her sister, standing cool and tall before her subjects.

“… I will allow you-“

The pin dropped.

A blur of black and blue flashed in a streak straight to the throne, a lighter cyan aura of crackling magical energy leaving a violent trail in its’ wake. Within moments the moon had eclipsed the sun, and a fight for the throne had begun.

… The hay noodles are about to boil over.

I know this because the boiling point of standard purity water is 100 degrees centigrade exactly… Except for when it isn’t.
In the case of Ponyville, not only is the water purity superb due to the diligent efforts of the weather pegasi, which lowers its’ boiling point considerably (as if there were such a thing as an inconsiderable variable!) but Ponyville is roughly 200 meters above sea level.

I’m glad you asked why that matters.

The higher up you go, the lighter the effects of atmospheric pressure on a given liquid, lowering its’ boiling point. The inverse is also true, so it’s also harder to boil anything the deeper you go! And given the stovetop has been well over said threshold for six and three-quarter minutes without the world’s number one assistant stirring it-

“Spike! Hay noodles!” I call out, startling him from his daydreams. I hear him fumble around for a bit before the clattering of metal on metal confirms my suspicions.

“Oh, horsea-“

“Spike! Language!” I poke my head over the top of a large easel to give him a stern look. He’s dismissive of the scolding, but he gives me a big-claw up to tell me he received the message, even if he’s not willing to vocalize it. He’s been doing that more recently, and I’m still torn between the possibility that he’s entering the dragon equivalent of a rebellious teen angst, or maybe I’m being too motherly lately. Or both.

I turn my attention back to the easel.

‘what the buck am I doing’ I suddenly think, followed quickly by ‘language, Twilight!’

Do as I say, not as I do.

I know color theory. I have a full spread of simple and complex brushes, watercolor and acrylic paints perfectly rationed into open-topped jars I threw together a quick Cumulus’ Consolidated Condensation enchantment over so they wouldn’t dry out. I got an extra-large easel, so I could be much more precise with my telekinetic brushstrokes. I got two spare canvases at the suggestion of Artsy Partsy, who didn’t even up-charge me for them. If I were a betting mare, I’d have deduced her nervous chuckle meant she thought I’d have trouble painting on my first try.

I didn’t say anything, but after studying Pinkie sense, I’ve found picking up on ponies’ other social cues to be much less impossible in comparison. And it gave me an expectation to surpass, it’s basically a test when you compartmentalize it. And I never fail a test.

’Hold onto your perspective charts, Artsy, I’m about to blow you away.’ I think smugly to myself, as the beginnings of an idea formulate in my mind. I hone in on it, visualizing the curvature, solving for possible deviations, and…

“Eureka!” I shout giddily, and my horn sparks to life wrapping a brush, ruler, and protractor in my telekinesis.

I hear Spike mumble something from the other room about quoting Eakinstien, but I’m all but entranced by the perfectly crafted curves of the shapes I’m creating. The world melts away from me, the same way it does when I’m absorbed into a new century-old encyclopedia, hyper-focused and rigid, and I just know that this is going to be the best painting ever.

“… It’s not the worst painting ever?” Fluttershy sheepishly says, as if she were asking a question instead of offering her thoughts on my masterpiece. She was the one who suggested painting in passing a week ago, actually, when we were discussing creative outlets. I doubt she expected me to actually do it. Hell, I didn’t expect me to actually do it, but Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie caught wind and began an elaborate prank spree revolving entirely around paint and art supplies as a way to torment me in the lovingly infuriating way only they can.

“Oh.” I reply.

I invited her over today for a late lunch so we could spend some more time together after a bit of a stressful week. A Lobster-based chimera was felling trees left and right at the edge of the everfree for three days straight, and loads of local critters were scared into ponyville proper from the disturbance. It took a long time, but between my holding spells and Fluttershy’s calming presence, nopony got hurt.

Today, I had a secret reason for inviting her to the library. Normally we spend quiet evenings at her cottage where there’s less disturbances, and in a building that isn’t in the public domain. I wanted her to be the first to see my creation, it just seemed fitting. Maybe she just doesn’t get it? It makes perfect sense, and the curvature is perfect! I triple-checked the angles and even traced a spiral rune series mid-air to guide the brush to make sure I didn’t deviate even an iota.

“You don’t think it’s pleasing on the eyes? It’s a Melbourian Fractal based on the Golden Spiral rule, I even solved for five iterations!” I say, forcing a bit more enthusiasm than I’m really feeling. It was a lot of calculus.

The small yellow and pink ball of silence shrunk even smaller, looked anywhere but at me, and muttered a response quieter that the first day I met her. After a few moments, she idly hooved at the ground.

“Fluttershy, you’re doing it again.” I deadpan. I promised her that I’d be honest when she was slinking back into her shell, and as much as I’d love for her to understand my artistic vision here and drown me in praise, it’s clear I’m making her uncomfortable by pressing the issue. Better to drop it and move-

“…uhm, I said most paintings don’t usually have numbers in them.” She repeats before I can give her an out. I’m a bit impressed. “It doesn’t have any soul to it, I don’t feel anything when I look at it, if that makes sense.” She looks back to me and I quickly put on a contemplative face, eager to absorb her feedback while she’s dissecting it. “But… I definitely know only you would have made it, if that makes you feel better?” She shifts back into comfort mode effortlessly. Surprisingly it does ease the blow on my ego a little bit.

“It does, actually.” I force a meek smile, and I nudge her cheek with my nose. “Thanks for being honest, Fluttershy. AJ would be proud,” I joke. I know letting someone down is harder for her than most, so the least I can do is take it in stride.

I pour us some tea, and we chat about nothing for hours, only occasionally interrupted by ponies coming in to loan out or return a book or two. One in particular took my interest, an earth pony with light tan fur checked out a copy of Advanced Warding Circle Thermodynamics for The Aspiring Mage. I’ve read it twice myself. It’s not completely unheard of for earth ponies to get curious about magical theory, glancing over the pages of rune matrices and trying to visualize the process. More commonly though, they’re loaning out a book in their name for a unicorn friend as a favor.

Much more commonly, you’ll have a distribution of steamy romance novels, biographies of important ponies, historical recollections and documentation on any plethora of topics, or Daring Do books. Tragically, Fiction is nearly 80 percent of all traffic, and most of the remaining 20 percent is either research material for Cheerilee’s Higher Education Prep groups, or something related to the Canterlot Cross monthly crossword puzzle, which has a 400-bit prize pool for the earliest office-dated response that completely solves it.

That leaves a fraction of a fraction of Ponyville to rent out awesome books like the Aspiring Mage collection, or even agriculture and horticulture based tomes. I try my best to not judge anypony, but I do get a little academic joyfuzz in my chest when I see a fresh set of hooves wander into the non-fiction section.
“-ight? Twilight, you’re spacing out again.”

“Wha-huh?” I blink, and fluttershy is smiling at me with that unreadable gentle smile. I realize I was watching her mouth move and nodding along, but I hadn’t actually been listening to anything she was saying. “Oh, I’m so sorry, my mind just wandered off and I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s okay, I understand.” She says gently, still reassuring me with that gentle smile. This happens sometimes during our chats. At first it was really awkward, with Fluttershy sort of teetering off mid sentence when she realizes I’m not there anymore, and I’ve apologized countless times and reassured her that I didn’t mean to make her feel unimportant. I treasure our little activity detox sessions, but my mind needs constant stimulation or it finds something to fixate itself on, whether or not I want it to. She understands, and she’ll often head me off before I can begin apology ranting, which I appreciate more than I can put into words. Trust me, I’ve tried.

One thing we’ve learned from many months of these zen days is that when that happens, it’s usually best to call it an afternoon. No matter how hard I try, once I start wandering it’s impossible for me to sit still for very long after. To Fluttershy’s credit, she always takes the initiative when it happens and gives me a quick hug, then we help the other pack their saddlebags and head home. Though it’s a change of pace helping her pack, having her at the library for a change instead of the other way around.

Once Fluttershy excuses herself and leaves, I’m left to my thoughts.

“Are you happy now, brain? You got what you wanted.” I grumble to myself, turning back to my painting for something to stare at while I brood over my inability to relax. My eyes idly trace over the curves of the fractal, and it does a great job of mesmerizing my eyes while I lose myself in thought. I hear spike up in the alcove, and occasionally the flip of a page breaks the silence as I continue tracing the edges of the mirrored shape on the canvas.

He must be reading one of his superpony comic books. I’ve tried to read them myself to bond with him a bit more, but unlike the Daring Do series they’re just completely disentangled from reality. I find myself laughing off the absurdity of the physics and breaches of fundamental magical laws every time I pick one up. It’s all I can do to keep myself from falling into a recursive loop of agitation and disbelief.

I blink, and I realize I’ve been staring at my painting for at least ten minutes, thinking about recursion formulas and the Mare-Do-Well incident.

“Well, maybe it’s at least good for conducting experiments in hypnotism.” I remark to myself dryly. I suddenly stop tracing the lines, and I realize Fluttershy was right. I don’t really feel anything when I look at it, now that the rose tinted glasses of pride have been taken off by a fresh perspective. I take a step back into the middle of the room, staring intently at the whole painting. It doesn’t stare back. It doesn’t say anything. It just sits there, solved. Nothing left to it but to look at the ‘completed’ fractal. My brow furrows.

“Hey Spike? Can you take a letter?” I call up. I try to not interrupt his relaxation time, but friendship reports come first. He gives a little grunt of effort as he scurries over to a pile of parchment at my bedside, but he’s ready at the drop of a dime, and looks down at me expectantly. Sweet Celestia I love that baby dragon, he really is the world’s number one assistant.

“Dear Princess Celestia,
Sometimes, pride in your work can blind you to glaring issues, something that only the perspective of a close friend can overcome…”

The sun is low in the sky, and soon Luna will be waking up to raise the moon. Applejack and the other stalls will be closing shortly, but I still have maybe 30 minutes until they start packing up, or more if the princess drags her hooves getting out of bed.

We’re not running particularly low on anything, but heading to the market is a good excuse to get some external stimuli. I find even just saying hello to the right pony can spark ideas on slow days.

I ask Spike to prep for dinner tonight, and I grab my saddlebags and a small neck pouch off my desk, slipping a hoof-full of bits into it. I don’t have any pressing academia to catch up on, all the library return and membership renewal forms have been completed, and I haven’t been outside in nearly a day and a half.

“Hay Fries or Daffodils?” Spike asks as I’m heading out the door. It’s a tough call.

“Surprise me. Want anything while I’m out?” I send a smile his way as he sighs.

“No, thanks.” He pauses for a second, and I see a light bulb pop up in his mind. “Unless Mr. Papers has issue 88 of the MegaMare series.” He amends.

“Okay, I’ll check in with him again if he’s still open this late. I’ll be back in 15, and don’t forget to-“

“Stir the pot, clean the bottom of the baking sheet, use plenty of olive oil, and extra carrots, I got it.” He lists nonchalantly, getting entrenched in his work. I stop in the doorway to watch him for a moment. Spike takes his job as my assistant very seriously. I can’t remember the last time I gave him a job and he didn’t do it. Sometimes he messes up, or something gets in the way, but watching him diligently sort through various kitchenware I feel a sort of melancholy I can’t quite place. I can’t tell if I like the feeling or not, but if I stand here any longer he’s going to look up and ask if I’m about to say something mushy, so I turn and head outside.

I catch a glimpse of him turning to the left cupboards as I close the door behind me. Hay Fries it is.

The trip to the market only takes a few minutes at a brisk trot, and I’m relieved to find that most of the stalls are still open, if getting ready to wrap up for the afternoon. Applejack sees my approach, and I wave to her but point my head in another direction and make a motion to the low-hanging sun. She nods in what I assume is understanding, and I give her a smile that says ‘I’ll be right there.’ She returns with a nod that says ‘And I’ll be here.’

I trot up to a wooden stand filled to the brim and then plenty with newspapers, magazines, comics, and other assorted reading paraphernalia. “Good afternoon, Mr. Papers. You didn’t happen to get the new superpony comics yet, did you?” Papers Please is an old, lean colt with a coat grayer than his mane, and a cutie mark of an open newspaper. He runs the newsstand and he’s a pleasant pony, but he has a habit of telling you the news instead of selling it. It’s a contagious bug, being passionate about current events, and he’s stayed uncontested in his business just by the sheer threat that even if a competitor opened up, Papers already gives out all the juicy bits for free. Most ponies just chat with him for a few minutes, get caught up, and buy the paper out of courtesy.

“Matters’a fact, I gottem just last afternoon! Spike came just a day too early, y’see,” he chuckles a bit. “Did’ja hear about tha’ new trials tha’ princess sanctioned on Chronourgy? Has all’a tha’ magist conservatives in a tizzy they weren’t consulted, wouldn’t happen ta’ know anything, would’ja?” He leans in a bit expectantly. I don’t blame him for expecting me to have a scoop, with my ties to both magic and the princesses, but it’s the first I’m hearing of it which is strange. Had I known about a newly sanctioned branch of magical study, I would have been in Canterlot’s Royal Library in a heartbeat. It seems like the sort of thing the princess would have at least brought up with me before going public.

The thought dawns on me that it could be a test of how informed I’m staying, but it’s quickly dismissed as baseless and only slightly paranoid.

“Sorry to disappoint Mr. Papers, but this is the first I’ve heard of it actually, I haven’t spoken with the princesses directly in a while.” I give him an apologetic shrug, and he nods in understanding, and quickly stands down.

“Y’know it’s just Papers ta’ you, Twilight. Bit surprised though, figured you’d be runnin’ tha’ gauntlet on something like this.” He prefers to go by his first name, though I’ve never figured out his criteria for who can and can’t drop the ‘Mr.’ Part. Mr. Papers makes sense though, from a business and a personal perspective; Going by Mr. Please has a bit of a strange connotation to it.

He’s right though, I would be had I known, and suddenly I’m glad for my impromptu shopping trip. It seems like there’s work to be done after all.

I put down three bits; two for spike’s comic and one for the paper, even though it’s just for the headline. I levitate them into my bag and thank Papers for his time, make a few minutes for small talk with AJ, and trot back to the library with a fire in my chest. It’s time to brush up on advanced temporal mechanics.

2 - Goldfish

GOLDFISH

The moon exploded.

Luna’s battle prowess was second-to-none, and within split-seconds of Celestia opening her accursed mouth to insult her cause, her throne had been obliterated by the devastating kinetic force of an alicorn-propelled catapult spell. The wall behind it wasn’t looking so hot, either.

Celestia, blinking back into existence a few feet to the right, grew grim. That was meant to kill. All the nights burning midnight oil, all the days pleading for her sister to give her just a little more time, put a little more thought into her ideals, were falling in pieces upon the dais. A few chunks went careening into the room, one threatened to bludgeon the court record keeper had Celestia not projected a hasty dome-shaped shield between them. The chunk impacted and shattered against the shield, but there was no time to give commands as the night rushed into close range to push the assault.

‘she needs space’ Luna realized subconsciously, her hooves carrying her forward halfway into the thought. By the end of it, she’s cutting down the spot where her sister was standing mere moments ago with a razor-sharp wing-blade.

“You would have killed Inkblot just now had I not-“ behind me. Luna bit at a latch just between her shoulder and neck, and a plate fell loose in the blade’s mechanism. With a swift whirl, Luna’s right wing went rigid, and momentum shot out the loose blade at incredible speed towards the source of the voice. There’s no time to teleport out of its’ way.

The blade finds no mark, instead embedding itself two meters deep in the wall. Cracks splinter out into a spiderweb of not-insignificant infrastructural damage.

“-Protected him. You threaten me, you threaten our empire, you threaten the lives of our little ponies.” The voice rings out from another direction. Ventriloquism magic. Take your voice, and throw it somewhere else. Simple in concept, complicated without line of sight.

‘She’s nearby’ Luna realizes. This spell reproduces the sound of your voice, but it doesn’t remove the source. Celestia would know that, and will have cast a ward of silence on herself, and non-detection to prevent Luna from divining her location with a simple Detect Magic spell.

‘The correct play would be to eliminate me immediately’ Luna muses, eyes darting around the room, her horn glowing dimly as she casts a very weak Detect Magic spell anyways. Her eyes glaze over as her vision begins to dither into starkly different shades of color. Detect Magic replaces your normal sight, and when a potent enough source of magic is detected, that space is highlighted by a brighter shade of yellow, orange, or red. The more energy packed into one space, the brighter the highlight, higher tier spells were normally closer to orange, where simple charms or auras showed as a dull bluish-green.

The entire room is a blinding sea of orange and red.

“I will allow you once more to secede this futile act of your own will. If you refuse, I-“ The bodiless voice chokes up, and the silence is plenty of time for a full scan of the room. The entire room is swarming with runes and wards and enhancements in case of an outside attack or siege. Anti-teleportation barriers, silencing thresholds, transconfiguration nullifiers, changeling detection glyphs, even pony-specific warning contingencies in the event a known threat’s magical signature is detected. The wards are set to trigger paralysis and sleep spells that are relatively harmless, then a detainment or banish spell depending on the creature. If both fail, many of the castle’s halls and suits of armor are trapped or in an animation stasis, ready to spring to life at the automated command of the complex system.

No pony could hope to differentiate the relatively low tier magic of a ventriloquism spell in such an awesome sea of power, especially when purposefully masked. But Luna wasn’t looking for a spell, she was looking for no spell. Non-detection works in a similar fashion to the experimental invisibility cloaks her Night Guard were beginning to develop. Don’t send information out, magical or energy, and redirect information coming in around the outside without changing its’ direction.
Gravity wells and black holes were the basis for the mechanics of it. Were you to fall too close to a black hole, eventually you would be able to see the back of your own head while looking forward. It’s just how information works, and it can be manipulated.

But that manipulation is palpable, traceable.

With a low hum, a dim light began to radiate from Luna, growing ever so slightly brighter in the perfectly evenly-lit room. In theory, a light source in the center of the room will shed an equal amount of light in all directions. If a sphere were distorting that light and redirecting it behind them, the light behind the sphere is indistinguishable after it’s moved, but will coalesce along the edges as the energy being redirected overlaps with the light already naturally passing that threshold.

“Then I…” the voice regains its’ composure, a steely, unfeeling backing to it. “I will be forced to destroy you, in the interest of the Everfree Empire.” The voice changes position again, but Celestia is still in the same place. There, hovering eight feet above the ground, just off-center on the east side of the throne room. A tiny halo of light shimmers in the air as Luna drops the Detection spell, imperceptible to those not already looking for it. A needle in a haystack.

“I am sorry, dear sister. Truly, I am.” The formings of a binding spell begin beneath her in an instant, but it’s inconsequential.

“Nay. It is I, dear sister, who is sorry.” With a bite of the clasp to her left wingblade, a loud Ch-Thunk signals it’s displaced, sitting loose in its’ fitting, ready to be launched.

“For thy naïveté of the trials and tribulations of thine subjects, I shalt sentence thee to death.” Before the binding spell clasps her in place, with a long, graceful sweep of her mighty wings, Luna sent her second wing-blade flying. But in he moments before sending her sister’s metal death flying, a cruel, calculated scattershot of mana bolts were sent blasting towards her hiding place. She could easily teleport away, but one of her precious subjects were fleeing towards the door just beneath her. And if she did, the poor little noble would be rended to the wall by half a dozen glowing bolts of magic.
The non-detection ward dropped, and a furious white alicorn surrounded by powerful olden wards screamed as she dive-bombed in the path of the projectiles, protecting the pony, before finally teleporting away to the far rear corner of the room to safety.

Where a five-meter long wingblade embedded itself into her chest. ‘Front-and-center, mid-right, back-left.’ It likely wasn’t a conscious decision on the pattern of her teleportation, but Luna knew it. It was the furthest point from anywhere she had been previously, and thusly her first choice for escaping peril. But Luna had been between her and the blade, and in Celestia’s hurried savior of her subject, she had teleported right into its’ wake.

The sun fell, and the moon rose to take its’ place.

Luna’s waxing moon was now on full display for all of Equestria, gently nudging them to wrap up their day, enjoy the beautiful night, or drift away to sleep so that the princess might stand vigil over their dreams.

“I thought for sure you were going to choose Hay Fries.” I give a content little sigh, the daffodil and carrot salad gone all too quickly. Spike did an excellent job with dinner, and I thank him with the latest copy of SuperMare from my trip to the market.

“Wow, I can’t believe he already got it! I checked in yesterday just on a hunch they’d be out early this month, I thought it’d be another week!” He takes the comic book and gives me a quick hug across my lower torso. He’s grown a bit taller, I remember not long ago he could only reach the top of my forehooves. He asks to be excused, and I nod him along, I can gather what I’m going to need for a good old-fashioned all-nighter.

Four candles, an oil lantern, five indexes of varying complexity on topics ranging from chronomancy, abstract rune matrices, and divination refreshers, and a reference on Star Swirl the Bearded’s Book of Prophecies, just in case I get bored.
“…She will travel to a place outside of our time, and give herself over to madness and death.” I mutter under my breath. Page 308. A lot of Star Swirl’s later works got increasingly more manic, but that one rubbed me the wrong way the first time I read it. It sounds almost like a warning, a providence holding firm that the weight of even the accessibility of alternate timelines could be enough to drive a mare to the brink of madness.

There are also prophecies that Luna will transform into a beautiful chirping Greybeak and invent the perfect song in a graveyard with no tombstones, and that the world was going to end three years ago in an apocalyptic inferno. So most sane unicorns take this particular work as either some misunderstood prank, or a once-off foray into poetry. I’ve mulled over it myself a few times, but I know by now to cut my losses with impossible questions.

I asked the princess about Star Swirl’s final years once, but she got very pointed about the importance of respecting redacted information. The point was taken that whatever happened, it wasn’t great and it upset the princess. Or princesses, since he was around before Luna’s banishment. I’d make the argument she’s likely heard before about how it’s best to learn from others’ mistakes, but it’s an ill-intended half-truth. I was curious, not worried. She probably knew it, too, so I left it alone.

“I’ll get to you later,” I promise the easel I haven’t decided what to do with quite yet as I stow it in a nearby corner, facing the Autobiographies section. I realize anypony coming into the library the last two days must have been either very confused about my choice of decoration choice AND placement, or realized that Twilight Sparkle, savior of Equestria and Element of Magic is an awful artist. I’m sure Bon Bon will catch wind and spread the word by sundown tomorrow.

I groan. I’ll be hearing about this for weeks. I should have covered it up after Fluttershy left today, I just didn’t think to after I broke out of my stupor and jumped straight into a friendship report.

“Imminent embarrassment later, academic burnout, here I come!” I mutter to myself, cheering up a bit as I hype myself up for the charts and graphs and paragraphs that await me. I won’t be able to do much of real importance without whatever material the princesses recently unrestricted, but I can at least get up to speed with the discoveries of the last few hundred years since the censorship.

The moon is still out, and I’m well into my second pass over Quantum Informality: How the Quarks of our Universe Traverse Spacetime and it’s really starting to all come together. There’s a lot of parallels between the hypotheses of all the books, and I feel like I have a solid understanding of the basis of Chronourgy.

Not.

Absolutely everything conflicts with itself. Controlled experiments with promising results are debunked by reputable scientists who have since gone back to publicly renounce their own research when it came under scrutiny in recent years. All in all, nopony seems to know what in the buck they’re talking about.

I’ve taken the initiative of setting up a spatially-locked quantum entanglement testing field in the basement with plenty of safety protocols being followed, of course. I have at least 3 fire extinguishers down here, and they’re all mostly in date.
Probably.

The immediate issue I’m running into is, funnily enough, thermal. Spatially locking a small localized section of space is simple in practice, just quarantine it from interacting with any outside forces. Kinetic, temporal, etc.

A modified Suspended Animation spell with selective bits of Medusa’s Lament, a petrification spell normally meant for use on living subjects, and a few simple reinforced insulated barriers do the trick, but my spells are conducting energy through them like circuits, continually powering them, and that generates a minute amount of heat. It’s uniform and predictable, but it’s injecting information from the outside in, and that can potentially affect the outcome of any attempt at a controlled experiment, making whatever result I find moot.

I’m suddenly seeing why all those researchers were so easily discredited, but nopony had a good alternative hypothesis. It’s because…

“This is impossible!” I throw my hooves into the air, and several sheets of half-filled graph paper rain down all around me. There’s no reliable way to create a sufficiently insulated layer of space for any practically long period of time. In theory I could suspend an area the size of a hoofball stadium, then quickly observe my findings in the center of it before it’s tainted by the heat radiating inwards, but even then entropy states that even that tiny amount of radiation would only be diluted at the center by 99.9% (It’s a lot of nines, but suffice to say not 100%), and getting exponentially larger by the second until it reaches an equilibrium.

And the worst part? If I want a quantum entanglement field, I need two spaces of equal size created simultaneously. As powerful as I am, not to measure my own horn, I can’t create two stasis fields the size of hoofball fields. Or at least, not repeatedly for the hours on end this spell would require. Also, what’s this unpleasant sensation I’m feeling on my flank?
I turn to my right, and see Spike poking me with a worried look on his face.

“Oh, hey Spike. Sorry if you called down, I was having a, uh… You know,” I make a sarcastic gesture to the semi-circle of flung papers on the ground around me. A telltale sign of research sessions crashing and burning.

His face changes from heavily concerned parent to mildly concerned friend at the familiar discussion point, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with just that.

“I thought maybe you could take a break and we could get something to eat? You haven’t been outside or had anything but that snack I brought you in two days.” He looks me in the eye, and I blink a few times. Oh. The sun isn’t still out, it’s out again. I pulled two all-nighters.

Oops.

“Oh, I’m sorry Spike, I was really lost in what I was doing. Sure, give me a few minutes to wash up and we can head to Daisy’s for…” I trail off. What time is it?

As he listens he’s picking up some of the papers from the floor and doing his best to put them back in order. I don’t have the heart to tell him there is no order, they’re all independent studies, albeit with no definitive conclusions.

“It’s mid afternoon, the sun’s been up for a while. Rarity came by to check in on you, but she heard some of the explosions and said she’d come back tomorrow.” He says, with a little emphasis on the explosion part. He sets the stack of papers on a nearby table next to some of my reference material, and we head upstairs to get ready to grab a bite to eat.

“Oh, also, somepony left you a note when at some point today. Looks like a math problem or something.” He shrugs, apparently disinterested. “I didn’t get it, but it’s on the lectern.”

As we enter the library proper, I take a moment to glance over at the lectern next to a sleeping Owlicious and sure enough there’s a piece of standard yellow notepad paper with some writing I can’t make out from here, held down by an ink bottle paperweight. I’ll check it out after I take Spike out for food, it’s not going anywhere, I decide as I head up the stairs to the shower.

…
…
…

I blink back into reality across the library and take a peek at the scribblings on the lectern. It’s math alright, but it’s not a problem, it’s a series of equations. The same equation, actually, written slightly differently three times. And at the top of the page, in writing clearly from a pegasus or earth pony, a short message.

Figured I’d spare you a trip to Canterlot. This is all you’ll need from there, the rest is fluff.
-Goldfish

I blink. It’s a rebalanced equation for chronomantic energy transference. It literally solves the thermal problem I’ve been stuck on for two days by sending any energy that crosses the threshold back in time.

That can’t work. It’s paradoxical. If I send heat back in time, it’ll still be there in the present. It’s like, like… If I went skydiving without a parachute and right before I hit the ground, I teleported ten feet up. I’m still going to hit the ground, it hasn’t solved the problem at all. In fact, it gives it more time to invade the field and equalize. This is a knee-jerk solution by somepony who assumes time manipulation is a fix-all, they probably don’t even know how to integrate this theory into a working spell! The catalyst spell for the time component isn’t even-

“Unless that note means you’ve got to save the world, I’m not letting you back in the basement without eating.” I jump nearly out of my skin as Spike sneaks up on my left.

“Oh! Spike, sorry, jeez. You scared me. Can you check if we have that spare copy of Quantum Boundary Theory for the Aspiring Mage? Also, have you ever heard of a pony named Goldfish?” I rack my brain, and it turns up zero results. I’ll have to enlist Pinkie’s help later to track them down, I have a few questions for them, not ending with how they knew I’d be working on this, and how they knew I wouldn’t have already solved it.

If I’m being honest with myself, I’m just a bit annoyed that somepony thought that I would get held up on a simple thermal issue while studying advanced theoretical magics, and a bit more annoyed that they were right.

’But maybe they know something you don’t’, I ground myself. Pride before the fall, and all that. ’You’re not the only pony capable of the scientific method.

The tapping of claws on the wooden floor bring me back from my humility check, and Spike looks unamused. Arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, and probably hungry.

“Sorry, you’re right. I’ll go clean up and we can go.” I give an awkward smile saying Sorry my obsession is delaying your lunch. He softens the stare as I walk by and corrects the head tilt, conveying I’m used to it. Cheeky.

“I’ve never heard of them.” Spike suddenly pipes up from my back. He’s a bit too big to be hitching rides on me these days, but I insisted to make up for earlier.

“Heard of who? Goldfish?” I ask, remembering he never answered my question.

“Yeah. While you were doing your thing I looked them up in our files, and there wasn’t a single member named Goldfish. First or last-“ He adds, before I open my mouth to ask if he checked last names.
“I checked the last month of guest checkouts too, no dice. Whoever they are, they’ve never checked a book out, or we lost their file.”

We most certainly did not lose their file.

“They probably just didn’t use their real name for whatever reason. Do you remember what they looked like? You said somepony left it, you didn’t catch their cutie mark did you?” I know he would have mentioned it if he did, but I’m covering my bases.

He deadpans.

“You know I have to ask.” I shrug, and continue forward while we both marinate on how to approach our mystery pony’s identity. Pinkie is still the best shot, but I’d rather not bother her if I don’t have to.

That’s not true, I don’t want her to spook them by doing her version of ‘Recon’ the same day they left a note and scare them off. If they didn’t want to stay hidden, they wouldn’t have gone to this trouble. Which really brings to light the issue of why they left the note anyways. Not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment, but after hearing that I shouldn’t go to Canterlot for research, I’m definitely going so I can verify.

My ears flatten and I stop in the middle of the road. Rough Soil almost bumps into me. I apologize as he laughs it off and passes me, and I stare out into space for a second.

Is this sabotage? Did they intentionally not include the Chrono-related spell components on purpose so I’d get the thought to leave ponyville and head to Canterlot? Am I being paranoid?

“Bit for your simplified thought process?” Spike pipes up, now beside me. He must have hopped off while I was distracted. A fresh perspective could help get the gears turning again, actually.

“Do you think that pony intentionally waited until neither of us were available to drop that note off?” I start, beginning to pace back and forth in front of Quills and Sofas.

“I’d say so, yeah, it’s too many coincidences otherwise isn’t it?”

“I’m getting there- But first could you take a letter?” I levitate out a piece of parchment and a quill, and Spike fetches the ink from the bottom of the bag. He doesn’t question it, trusting the process after years of this, which I’m sure we both appreciate.

“Dear Princess Celestia,
Were there any plans to repeal redactions on any barred schools of magic in the near future?” I pause. Spike doesn’t give me a reaction. “Maybe add something about ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to raise an army of inter-dimensional undead’ so she doesn’t worry?” I grin sheepishly. He’s better at wording these things than I am. He rolls his eyes, but scribbles a few lines as a footnote.

“Your faith-“

“I’ve got it.” He nods, already rolling the parchment. “Send it now?” I nod, and it’s gone in a flash of green dragonfire.

“So, coincidences?” Spike prompts, as he starts walking forward. I stop my pacing to keep pace with him.

“Right, coincidences. A mysterious stranger who just happens to know about a freshly-unbarred school of magic has a convenient solution to a problem I didn’t even know I was going to have, but leaves just enough information out of it to make me question it. I think they want me to leave Ponyville for some reason. Do you think I’m reaching here, or is it fishy to you, too?” I finish. I feel like I’m ranting, but I can tell he’s keeping up with it.

“I wouldn’t say fishy, I don’t know what anypony would gain from having you leave town unless they were planning something… Nefarious?” He twirls an invisible mustache between his claws, evil-laughing quietly. I give him a half-amused side-eye, but we’re almost to Daisy’s, so I shelf it for now. I’ll think better with a Daisy-and-Cucumber salad in me, pardon the innuendo.

My stomach grumbles rebelliously. Maybe a double, with extra croutons.

“Heya Twilight! Hiii Spike!” A bright yellow mare happily trots up to us as we start sitting down at a table out front. Daisy runs the whole show almost single-hoofed. Six days a week, long as the sun’s in the sky, she’s open for hungry ponies. The day she became a legal adult she had the hole-in-the-wall ready to open. I have to give her credit, for somepony so young she really knew what she wanted, and she worked hard to get it.

“You haven’t been by in FOREVER! Oh my gosh, you’re even taller today!” Daisy runs right up to spike and nudges him with her nose, then wraps him up in a big hug. Daisy has a huge crush on Spike, and she’s about as subtle about it as a brick through a window. He doesn’t mind the attention as far as I know, but he does need to tap out after ten seconds to breathe.

“Good to see you too, Daisy.” He brushes some imaginary dust off himself and clears his throat. “I, uh… Like your mane, did you do something with it?”

Daisy’s way younger than I am, but older than Spike by a fair bit. I don’t know if I want to encourage the interaction or not, but I’m no suave operator myself so I let it play out whenever it happens. I’ve honestly learned just a bit from Spike’s awkward interactions, not that I’ll ever use it.

“I did! Well, I tried. I curled it, but the brush got all tangled in it pretty bad so I, uh… Had to chop off a few inches. He-heh.” She scratches behind her ear, looking up and down. “Well, anyway, what can I get for the both of you?”

My stomach growls like the traitor it is, and I take a deep breath to recite the order.

Author's Note

Subtle reminder that Spike is an adult by pony standards at this point.

3 - Papers, Please

Papers, Please

’So this is what a mortal wound feels like.’ Celestia thought to herself, in a dismissive internal dialogue. ’I thought it would be more… Excruciating.’

A five-meter wingblade was embedded nearly halfway into her chest, and there was no stopping the bleeding. It was a fatal wound, fighting it was futile. Time better spent lamenting her failures to her little ponies.

“…hy sun shall fall at my behest, and night shall reign supreme!”

’Who’s she speaking to?’ Celestia opened an eye, and found a world tinted red. Blood from her forehead was running in a thick trail into both eyes, but she could make out a blurry black and blue visage making grandiose, sweeping motions before her. ’Oh, me.’

It did hurt. It wasn’t the worst pain she’d ever felt, funnily enough, but it was more than enough to be debilitating. Her breaths came ragged and short, and each rise and fall of her punctured chest left her number than the last. At least one of her lungs was working, and her heart was still beating.

“…luna.”

The room was completely empty. All the ponies responsible for the throne had run for their lives, and though the two royal guards stationed in front were trained to protect the princesses, but there was no directive for a coup of this magnitude. She couldn’t blame them for turning tail.

“-for too long! Finally, I am victorious, dear sister! FINALLY, I WIN!” Luna’s coat was slowly being overtaken by a black ichor, bubbling and swirling up and across her body. The inception of her Nightmare.

“… Lulu.” Weak. Weak and frail, like a ghost filled with regret whispering desperately. Celestia abandoned her eyes, and let her head fall to the floor. The floor was warm at least, if you didn’t mind the blood. Did she hear her? could she hear her? Is this really how it should have ended, is this really mercy?

’I don’t care if she can hear me’ she decided. Before it all came to a close, she raised her head and looked toward where she had last heard the hooffalls of her sister and said the cruelest thing she possibly could.

“It’s okay, lulu. I forgive… you…” Her remaining lung finally faltered, and she didn’t have the breath to say anything more. A dim spark of gold shimmered across her horn as she tried to manually expand her lung, but the spell fizzled out and died as adrenaline left her. Her senses were quickly fading, and the last thing she felt was a peaceful warmth enveloping her; And she resigned to leave Equestria with a whispered prayer for her sister.

How am I not the most obese mare in Equestria?

Sixteen bits. I just spent sixteen bits on a triple order of daisy-and-cucumber salad with rye croutons, and a slice of pie.

Spike spent six on a Gemstone Cobbler. It’s not on the menu, but Daisy keeps some gems stashed in the back just for him. I assume she doesn’t make much on the order, since the market price for gems even in bulk isn’t cheap.

I’d know, I buy them in bulk for my baby dragon.

I raise my head off the table to ask Spike if he’s ready to head home, but what escapes my mouth is a drawn out “Spueurrrrgmph….” as I slouch back over the table, cradling my abused stomach with my hooves.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you eat that much in one sitting since the ‘totally legit science experiment’ at Pony Joe’s.” Spike looks me over with more than a little pity, but there’s nothing he can do to save me, I’m doomed to an eternal tummy-ache as punishment for my transgressions on consumer etiquette.

Daisy doesn’t look much more confident in my ability to leave her table when she takes away the 25 bits for our checks, but she’s kind enough to take the check up for us, and assures us that we’re welcome to stay as long as we ~~like~~ need, bless her.

“Give me a minute to parse that and I’ll have a witty retort for you.” I groan, sliding my hooves to he side of my chair and flopping unsteadily onto all fours. Spike might have eaten a bit too much as well, as I see him furling his brow and leaning forward a little bit, tapping a closed fist against his chest. A few seconds later he lists back in his chair and a puff of green dragonfire spews forth, a scroll bearing the royal seal materializing on the table between us.

“Oh, wow. That was fast. She must have been taking a break or something.” Notes spike as he takes a drink of water to wash the lingering flames down with.

I pause for a moment as I reach out for it with my magic. ’If she says no, then something big is happening, and I’m at the middle of it. Something heavily orchestrated and very likely dangerous.’ I hear my heartbeat pick up a bit, but I calm myself quickly.

‘I’m sure it’s fine. Even if she says no, I’m sure there will be some reasonable explanation. A tabloid aired a prepared theoretical story, some unfounded rumor got circulated and ponies took it for fact, and the press will have some huge fine to pay for the confusion.’ I laugh to myself internally. ‘Yeah, that’s totally possible.’

Spike’s staring at me now, and I can tell he can tell I’m worried. I doubt he’s put together all of what I’m thinking, but I shouldn’t worry him, at least not in public.

I break the seal and unfurl the scroll, my eyes going over a few lines of hornwriting blazingly fast. I re-read it, then roll it back up and stick it in my saddlebags and smile to Spike.

“All good, seems like Luna authorized it without mentioning it or something,” I say, breathing out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Spike looks at me, a hard expression fixed on him for a second, then he blinks and springs into life.
“Oh, that’s a relief. Looks like you’re feeling better, ready to head back?” He hops off his chair and starts off toward the library.

“Yeah, I have something to go take care of first though, meet you back there in five?” I throw back casually, but when I turn to look at him something’s off. He’s not looking at me, he’s glancing around, trying to look casual.

“I think I’ll go with you, I haven’t gotten to hear Lyra perform in a few weeks, she should be out today.” He stays put, but still doesn’t look at me.

’He did put it all together that fast, he knows I’m lying, and he doesn’t want me alone. I look at the back of his head for a second. He’s selling the casual disinterest, but he’s tense and his feet are tapping to a steady, non-existent rhythm.

He’s scared.

“Okay, we can go together.” I agree. His foot-tapping stops.

I wave to Daisy as we walk away, and there’s a constant chill down my spine. ’I’m being watched.’ I suddenly realize the scope of that.

‘I’m being watched by an unknown, organized entity of unknown size who are attempting to lure me out of Ponyville.’ I want to grab spike and run, teleport as far as I can and put up twenty layers of my brother’s barrier spells and call for help, but that’s what I would do if I was in a panic, and panicking helps no-one right now.

Think calmly about what to do next. Don’t act suspicious. I don’t know what they’ll do if I openly display I’m onto something. And, before anything, there’s something I need to make sure of.

We enter the market from the opposite end of where I came from last night. The air’s mixed with fresh produce and pastries, but I block it all out. The only product I’m interested in is the Canterlot Times.

Luckily, I see Papers Please chatting up an older what I presume is a couple, based on how they’re leaning against each other. A colt with a light tan coat, and a tiny dark green pegasus that looks like she hit a growth stint early on. I’m pressured to interrupt them, but instead I feign disinterest and trot up to the side of the stand loudly to announce I’m here. Social graces are important right now.

“End of th’ mornin’ Twilight! Spike.” Papers nods to the both of us in turn in the middle of his conversation. He knows how to make a customer feel seen, I’ll sure give him that.

“Be with tha’ both’a ya’ in a sec’,” he promises, as he picks up a few bits on the counter and stashes them away behind the stand.

My thought process here is that if the princess didn’t know anything about what I was talking about, the paper he sold me isn’t from official print. If that’s true, somewhere between the presses and his stand, somebody swapped out a set of fabricated papers. That means that unless somepony had a direct line to the princess, word about the false headlines wouldn’t reach her ears for at least a day, and most likely three, where it would start an investigation of the Canterlot Times facility, and turn up nothing because the culprit is a third party. Maybe I should just ask the prin-

“Miss Twilight? Morning! Or afternoon, like he said,” The colt turns to me, and shoots me a beaming smile. I don’t know him, but I’ve seen him at the library before. I’m pretty sure he rented out…

“Good morning! It’s a bit arbitrary, but by definition afternoon doesn’t start until just after the sun’s past its’ zenith,” I point a hoof straight up, and we all shield our eyes after glancing into the fiery orb in the sky. “So you’re right, we probably have a little bit of morning left.” For a second, I almost forget I’m quite possibly in serious trouble as I explain the subtlety to them.
“Are you getting any use out of the Magic Circle Thermodynamics entry of the Aspiring Mage series?” I ask the colt. I’m hoping he’ll tell me himself who he got it for.

Instead, he just laughs and scratches the back of his head awkwardly.

“Actually uh, a buddy of mine and I were having a spat about whether magic or science were harder. I just kind of picked a book and started looking it over out of spite, but it’s hard to get what any of it’s about without, you know…” He raises a hoof to his forehead and spins it in circles a few times, indicating his lack of a horn.

“Yeah, a lot of non-unicorn scholars say it took them years to be able to quantify spell components in more familiar terms. Smart Cookie dabbled in it during the founding era of Equestria as a hobby, and she was able to lay a groundwork for Eakinstein and Mage Meadowbrook to create laymans versions of their theories for non-unicorn audiences,” All three of the ponies in front of me are looking at me attentively. I’m sure most of this is over Papers’ head, but the other two are smiling and seem genuinely interested.

“Or something like that, eh-heh…” I trail off, suddenly eager to step out of the spotlight I just stuck on myself. Curse my academic rambling tendencies.

“That’s a might interesting. Bit outta’ date for a conversation starter but I’ll take it!” Papers gives a hearty laugh, thankfully letting me settle back into my own skin for a moment. “So, did ya’ need somethin’, or did you just miss me?”

“Oh, I didn’t want to interrupt, I just wanted to ask you about yesterday’s paper when you have a minute,” I say, taking a little step back as I notice the other two are still here, they must be in the middle of something.

Papers waves his hoof, dismissively. “Ain’t no such thing as interrupting if’n ya’ have something new to say. So, what’s got y’er tongue missy?” He’s leaning on the counter, and made it clear he’s intent on keeping the conversation going. I sigh, not wanting to bring the other two into anything they didn’t sign up for, but I can be vague.

“I was just wondering about yesterday’s Canterlot Times, I didn’t see any official sources cited as far as I could see. You don’t think maybe it was a tabloid rumor that got published on accident or something, do you?” I try to keep a casual, open-ended line hanging, but what I pull off is nervous over-chuckling and shifting back and forth on my hooves as soon as I’m done speaking.

Papers raises a brow. “Y’reckon a tabloid rumor milled a leak to the leading paper, and picked repealin’ a dead-end school a’ magic as the juicy bait?” He blinks at me a few times, the way ponies blinked at me in my younger years when they thought I was just an insane filly ranting about something. I hate that blink, but it kind of strikes me that you’d have to be an idiot to really believe what I just said.

’Way to go, Twilight, you’re blowing this.’ I rapid-fire some follow-ups in my head, but they’re all either obvious excuses or equally as lame ways of going about asking if anything weird happened with this shipment. Okay, panic is definitely setting in now, I haven’t responded in at least ten seconds and I still have no idea how I’m-
“There was this huge ink spill on the inside of the paper, too.” Spike blurts out randomly from behind me. What? There was no ink spill.

“I don’t read the paper too much, but I told her I thought it was really weird. I mean, if I were writing the most prestigious paper in Equestria, I’d at least remember to look them over if somepony spilled stuff on the line.” Spike makes a whole performance with his arms, making big, sweeping motions and turning the whole thing into a show. “And I’ve always had to cite anything I say in my reports, it just seemed really sloppy, y’know? And if anypony would know about weird newspapers, it’s the best informed pony in Ponyville.”

He looks up at Papers like a child asking a parent the meaning of life. Oh stars, he’s playing to his ego and it’s so obvious. Spike, that kind of thing only works in stories, not on real poni-

“Well, lookit that, y’er as sharp as y’er mother, ain’t’cha?” He gives a laugh, but it’s a genuine, hearty one. “Well, mistakes happen sometimes, little dragon. I’m happy to replace the ink’d one with a fresh copy if ya’ want. An’ why they skimped on the sources, maybe it was a setta’ green hooves typin’ it up. Reckon’ they got the riot act, editor too.” He spins his take quickly, and it makes complete sense. The coincidence of it would be astoundingly high if half of what we were asking was true, but it comes so naturally to him that I can’t justify any kind of suspicion. He definitely doesn’t know the story’s fake.

I let out a huge sigh. Maybe it’s just a one-pony operation after all, playing some prank with ill intent. But at least now I know I have enough breathing room to investigate.

“There were sources.” The dark green pegasus suddenly pipes up from the sidelines, stepping around the large tan pony to be able to see everyone. Her saddlebags are about as big as she is, now that I look. She talks fast too, and it’s a bit hard to keep up. “In an external addendum, page 2, row 84, at the bottom of the page. Atom Adams, Jalin Spearhead, and Princess Celestia herself are referenced, either directly or through quotes, and an anonymous source from the mage’s consortium had an anonymous source quoted directly on their displeasure of exclusion”

I blink. Spike blinks. Papers and the other pony probably blink too, but I’m too busy watching her mouth move in double-time while my ears catch up. She stands still, having said her piece, but waits patiently for someone to offer a counter, as if she’s waiting for us to throw a verbal punch.

“Oh, that makes sense, it’s not often papers cite in addendums or footnotes, I’m surprised I missed it. Sorry, we didn’t mean to insult the integrity of the paper if you work there, we just-“

“We have no affiliation with any paper.” She says plainly, interrupting my apology. She either doesn’t realize how rude she’s being, or doesn’t care. I suspect the latter, but whatever her circumstance I want this line of conversation over and buried before it gets any more attention than it already has.

“That’s funny, coulda swore I ‘ad a dozen if the things left, were right ‘ere a minute ago…” Papers has a scowl on his face, and he’s digging through different parts of the stand with his hooves looking for what I assume to be yesterday’s paper.

“It’s okay Papers, I don’t want a replacement or anything, but I appreciate you offering, really.” Spike backpedals a bit, putting his claws up in an open shrug, trying to de-escalate as well. The other two ponies look at each other for a second and then back towards the rest of us.

“We’re gonna hop back-to, mister Papers, thanks for the conversation! Hope you get that deal with Fresh-off-the-Press!” The colt turns and starts trotting away. The pegasus mare lingers for a moment, then turns and quickly takes to the sky in the same direction without a word. As she takes off, I get a glimpse of her cutie mark beneath the bags. A brain in a glass bowl filled with water. It’s a bit creepy, actually. Maybe she’s a surgeon? It’s definitely rare for a non-unicorn to perform delicate and precise surgery, but it’s not completely unheard of.

I turn back to Papers to excuse ourselves as well, but he has a stonewall expression as he stares the way they left, face not moving an inch.

“What’s wrong, is there some bad blood between you three or something?” I ask, a bit concerned. I’ve never seen him this far from his usual bubbly, talkative self.

“Never met ‘em before in m’life.” He deadpans, and i see the edge of his mouth twitch in a momentary frown. “But ah’m pretty sure they jus’ stole all m' copies of yesterday’s paper.”

4 - Check-up

CHECK-UP

Is it over? She isn’t moving. Did I win? She isn’t moving. That means I’ve won.

I start moving. Slowly at first, towards her body as she takes in ragged breaths. She’s facing me, but she isn’t moving. I see red, that means I’ve won. For a brief moment, I’m at a loss for words.

The moment passes. I’ve rehearsed this for decades.

“Thy arrogance and contentment hath blinded Thou, sister. Whilst thou basked and reveled in thy perfect daylight, convincing yourselves Thy perfect utopia was flawless, impunible, accepted and loved by any and all, I prepared for this den.” I approach the broken diarch at my hooves. Her blood is beginning to pool all around her, staining her pretentious and perfect white coat with the harsh reality of her ignorance. “The den whither the night couldst have its’ moment of glory, the night whither ponies of the night feared not the burn of daylight’s so-called justice!”

I feel that familiar, black rage rising, the rage and hate and turmoil for all that she had built. The feelings that gave me purpose, and fueled my ambitions for centuries past. For the first time, I let it come. I allow it to consume me, wholly and entirely, giving myself to the primal pleasure of my self-indulgence.

“Dear sister, this is the origin of a new Lunar Empire! Thy sun shall fall at my behest, and night shall reign supreme!”

“…luna.” I hear her call to me. My old name, my old calling. It only surges me forward, and I feel my mannerisms and consciousness slipping away as this new power takes hold.

“Thou hath enjoyed the love and admiration of our subjects alone for too long! Finally, I am victorious, dear sister! FINALLY, I WIN!” My voice is billowing, my mane and tail are a jet black hurricane, a manifestation of the power I’m finally allowing myself to wield, and it feels euphoric. There’s nothing I cannot achieve now, no foe I cannot best. With the Nightmare on my side, Equestria will-!

’Our side. On our side,’ I remind it. Of course, on our side. With you by my side, Equestria will be culled and prosper once more under moonlight eternal. A utopia for those once shunned! A perfect-

“… Lulu.”

I freeze. The voice cuts through the layers of hazy temptations like a blade of truth. A fury rises, then falls, replaced by regret, then fury once more. I stumble, and feel words that aren’t my own well up.

“You cannot have her!” I suddenly scream out, spitting my ire to the bloodied construct of deceit and lies dying before me. “She is mine, mine, and you are a threat to our plans.” Yes, that’s the best way, the right way.

I begin weaving a siphoning spell, and it comes effortlessly. The Nightmare does all the work for me, and I merely channel the power into it for her. ‘Things will be so much easier now that I have her helping me, guiding my hoof.’

The glowing feeling in my chest carries me forward, and I kneel low on my front two hooves, lowering my horn to hers. There’s a small golden spark of magic as she tries weaving a spell, but it’s too late. I siphon the magic as fast as she summons it, and the spell flickers and dies.

‘I can be happy if I replace Celestia, I’ll be happy with a new sister. Celestia never understood, never gave me a chance to win, but the Nightmare does.’

I can’t see straight, did she get her spell off after all? Was it a blinding spell? Lowfore’s Sickness or some other nausea inducing parting gift? It’s fine, I don’t need to be able to see for this. I close my eyes and establish a connection between our mana pools. Hers is dying quickly, and I begin harvesting it with nearly no resistance.

I flinch as I feel her blood pooling around my hooves. My regalia was damaged in the fight, both my forehooves now bare and stained by the red ichor pouring from her chest wound. It’s hard to see through the haze in my eyes, but I know it’s lethal. ‘What a horrible wound, who would do such an awful thing?’

‘We did what was necessary. We’re not a monster, she is.’ That familiar voice resonates from within, and I take heed. “It’s right, this was the only way. I’m not a monster. I won.” That's right. The Nightmare understands, it knows the pain I've felt. A hoof falls on top of mine, and I realize tears have been streaming down my face, obscuring my vision and pooling with sister’s blood.

“It’s okay, lulu. I forgive… you…” My sister stabs me in the heart, one last time.

Why? Why does she feel the need to do this, to twist the knife she’s plunged so deep into my chest? Even when I Finally succeed, I triumph, she finds a way to tear it away from me. The spell continues its’ work without my attention, the Nightmare holding it true for me, and I'm left to stare down at her with a hollow feeling of guilt rising up in my chest.

“Why?” I sputter out, resting my head against hers. It’s cold.

I snap my neck back and the red drains from my vision. She’s not breathing. A wingblade- my wingblade- is plunged two meters into her chest. I killed her.

The room is silent, and the tempest in my head has quelled. I hear my heart threatening to jump out of my chest and die next to hers, and once again I’m so, so very alone.

“No… No NO NO!” I scream, as loudly as I can. The room quakes, and for a moment I hope it collapses all around me and buries us both along with my transgressions.

Before I can let the Nightmare dissuade me again, to whisper its’ perfect nothings in my mind, I lurch forward to bite down hard on the heavy blade in Celestia’s chest, and pull. The sound is sickening, but I’ll have the rest of my immortal lifetime to get it out of my head.

This is right, this is the only way. She’ll move again. I don’t care if I win, this isn’t worth it. I’m not a monster.

I won’t be a monster.

I grit my teeth as I wrench back absolute control of my magic. The rage and hate and vengeance scream in protest, and a thousand little ponies buck back and forth across my mind, but I bear the burden and persist. I wrap the both of us in a barrier of my own making, sheltering us from the world until I make this right.

I take a deep breath, and reverse the flow of mana back into the faint ember that remains.

The terminal velocity of an unladen pegasus is roughly 7.8 wingpower, raised to about 8.1 in Ponyville after removing multi-color outliers. This is about twice the speed your typical earth pony can traverse unobstructed ground, or about a time and a half faster than a draft mare on a mission. While wingpower isn't an accurate measurement of potential velocity for a unicorn, if used exclusively as a speed metric, a sufficiently powerful and trained one would rank in the range of 30 to 85 utilizing transpositional matter displacement magic. Or in laypony's terms, teleporting is so unbelievably fast it's basically cheating.

So why in Celestia's merciful skies can I not catch this pegasus?

I can't remember the seconds between Papers scowling at them and my horn whisking me away in pursuit, but this filly is fast. As in, she could be faster than Rainbow Dash fast. While I can outpace any pegasus or earth pony in a straight line over very small distances where stamina isn't a concern, a high-speed chase through town is hardly ideal conditions. On that same line of thought, I realize once she decides to go vertical I'll be a sitting duck. Rule one of teleporting, never teleport straight up. Why? Because Gravity sucks and loves to pull you straight back down, and without a casting charm, attempting to cast a feather-fall spell midair is tantamount to looking up a word in a randomized dictionary in a language you don't read.

I'm glad I come to that realization so quickly, because as soon as we hit a junction the mare darts right and the colt dashes full-tilt left. He should be slower than the mare, so I change targets. Neither seemed armed, but there's no telling what was in their saddlebags so I need to play it safe and stay at least a few metres back.

A series of quick hops forward and a hurried apology to Mr. Cake (I hope that doesn't sprain,) and I'm almost on him. There's a pit in the road ahead if I remember correctly, which could give me another obstacle I'll gain distance on with my teleportation. I squint with effort as I try to formulate a simple stunning bolt while keeping my hooves in sync under me. He doesn't seem to notice how close I am with how straight he's running, and it's almost too easy. I hold the spell in a mental stasis, ready to let it fly before I break my own teleportation rule; I teleport directly into the air a good 15 feet, and immediately begin falling.

I only have a few seconds until that fifteen feet becomes zero and I impact the ground hard enough to shatter all of my hooves and only some of my ribs if I'm lucky, but I'll only need half of that. Being above the hoof traffic on the street, I have a clear shot at the tan colt, who spares a surprised glance back to see a lavender unicorn flying through the air charging her horn with spells meant for him. Either he's not the brightest, or he's incredibly brave because he turns forward again and pushes himself into what I assume is a last-ditch sprint towards the construction pit. I ready the bolt, wait a fraction of a second for him to prepare his jump where his velocity will be locked into place, and...

Ow. Ow, ow, ow!

I groan loudly in protest to my brain's persistence in telling me that my body is either on fire, being emulsified, or otherwise in a state of extreme discomfort. Whatever spell I just cast, I'm going to be cleaning up the mess for days. I hope the microscope is okay, last time I botched a Cyr's Seeing spell I thought we'd need to renovate the whole basement.

I groan again, but this time it's due to the massive weight that's suddenly flung itself across my chest and knocked the wind from me. I crack open an eye, and I see a blurred purple and green mess of scales crying its' little heart out. "Spike?" I ask in a hoarse voice that sounds like it belongs to somepony else.

"Twilight, what happened!? They found you two with two broken ribs in the middle of the street! Rainbow saw and- And you, she-" he stammers, looking up at me with a very worried expression. His eyes are pink and puffy, but he's suppressing whatever emotions are putting a strangle hold on him quickly. I put a hoof up to his mouth, signaling for him to take a deep breath and calm down. He does exactly that, like we've trained each other to do in times like this, and I'm left a moment to think.

I look down at myself and suck down a gasp. I'm more bandage than pony, and suddenly the signals of pain and shock my brain has been relaying make so much more sense. What DID happen?

"I remember, I was right on top of him. I had a paralysis bolt ready, and then..." I feel a phantom pain in my ribs, and it comes flooding back to me in an instant. "That pegasus filly, she tackled me out of the air!" I try to slam a hoof down at my side in frustration and wince as a fresh wave of pain is sent from my neurological punishment system. "Why didn't somepony catch her?!"

"Rainbow Dash did, Goldfish crashed with you." Spike says, having caught his breath and clearly trying to remain calm and rational despite my obvious distress. "That's her name, the pegasus. It's about all the guard has been able to get out of her. They found you both out cold, and she only wants to talk to you."

She only wants to talk to me?

"Okay, I think I get what's happening. Don't worry, I'll take care of this," I say confidently, rolling over to the side of the hospital bed I've been assigned to. I have no idea what's happening, but a few chief candidates that pop up range from political sabotage involving me, to a conspiracy to overthrow the princesses, to some kind of ransom plot. When it involves my friends and I, though, it's rarely ever something that simple. Huh, what a strange tolerance for mayhem I've built that overthrowing the princesses seems straightforward by my standards. I should probably talk to somepony about that.

I dangle a leg over the edge, then another.

"Are you sure?" he asks, still sounding concerned.

I love him, and I'd be concerned if I were in his horseshoes too, but as long as I can walk and talk I can solve this. I've been through worse and still cast alicorn-tier magic in the same breath. Or, at least, that's what I tell myself as I try to lower myself onto the ground and my hooves give out from under me. I fall flat on my face and roll backwards into a sitting position, panting heavily and trying to shake off the stars popping in and out of my vision.

"Come on Twilight, don't do this to yourself. You're hurt, you need to rest," Spike says, laying a tentative hand on my back.

"You know I won't be able to rest until I know what this is all about." I finally get to my hooves and force a brave grin his way. Oh sweet Celestia, my everything hurts. My sides are bruised and sore, my head feels like it's splitting in half, and I can't seem to focus my eyes on anything more than a foot away. I grit my teeth together, ignore the pain, and force myself to stand up.

"Goldfish isn't going anywhere, she'll be here when you wake up," Spike pleads, standing next to me, but he knows I've made up my mind. He could call for Nurse Redheart and she'd have me back in the bed within seconds, but for all the years of bad decisions we've been through together he seems to understand my restlessness.

I take a deep breath, and start walking towards the door. I can hear him follow behind me, and I'm thankful for the support. It's only a few steps before I find myself outside my small empty room, and the first thing I notice is royal guards every few meters up and down the hallway leading to the main facilities, numbering at least half a dozen. The second is the sound of heavy hoof-falls coming from down the hall.

The door to the nurse's office opens, and there's a tall, regal unicorn stallion in full ceremonial armor staring down the hall at me. His mane is braided in gold, and his horn glints in the light of the sun shining through the window. A strap of three stars is attached to the chest of his militaristic uniform, and he looks to be in his late thirties. "Miss Twilight Sparkle?" he asks, with a slight bow of his head.

"Yes, that's me," I reply, forcing my legs to keep moving forward until I'm within conversational distance. A mare in motion stays in motion.

"Lieutenant Golden Piercer, on behalf of the 3rd Royal division. Princess Luna has ordered that you will not leave this wing without a chaperone, until further notice," he says, his voice stern and commanding.

Wait, what?

"What does Princess Luna have to do with anything? What's going on?" I begin, but I feel Spike tug on my side right as I'm about to begin my onslaught of questions. He's got that face where he knows something I don't, and he doesn't wear it that obviously often. I take a second to recenter myself, and I take the bait, backing down and focusing on not letting any two hooves hold all my weight for too long at a time.

The lieutenant looks from me, to Spike, and back again and seems to realize I'm not exactly up to speed on everything. As he's about to say something, he's shoved aside by a white earth pony mare about half his size who's staring daggers into my already weak body. Oh boy.

"Oh, hey nurse Redheart! Fancy seeing you here! We were just, uh, looking for the bathroom?" I shrink a bit under her gaze, but offer a sheepish grin. She's not having any of it.

"You're not leaving this wing until your wounds are healed and you've been cleared by me. And Spike, I don't care what the guards or the princesses say, she needs her rest! If she gets out of that bed again, I'm going to assume you're having part of it and restrict guest access." She says, even more sternly than the high-ranking military officer towering beside her. He seems to be well-mannered though, as he doesn't interrupt the very peeved chief of staff to point out that his orders supersede hers.

"But—"

"No buts, Spike!" she barks. I know it's out of love, or at least concern, but I forgot how scary Redheart can be when she sees you as a troublemaker.

Spike lets out a frustrated sigh, looking up at me apologetically until I nod him back towards the room. He opens his mouth, searching for an argument to support us walking out of here and taking care of business like he knows I want, but he's as frazzled as I am. I appreciate the attempt, though. I watch him walk back into the room, then turn my attention back to the mare who's still glaring at me.

"There's no chance anypony's got a long-and-short of what happened while I was out, or why there's a company of royal guard in a hospital, is there?" I ask, trying to remain calm despite everypony's seeming inability to give me a straight answer on what the buck is going on.

"Why? Just look at yourself, Miss Twilight!" she replies, crossing her forehooves in front of her. "We'll continue this conversation in a few minutes, after I've been reassured by the lieutenant here that my hospital won't be bogged down by said army of guards. Now please, before you re-fracture something," she motions me back to my room, glancing worriedly at a bandage on my left hindleg.

I look over at the guard next to me. He pretends not to hear the exchange, but I can feel a bit of secondhand embarrassment for his superior and me radiating from here.

"Sorry, nurse Redheart." I wilt a bit, partially because I realize all these guards clogging her hospital halls were probably stationed here because of me, and partially because I realize I'm being more than a little stubborn in my headstrong 'I'll fix this right now' approach. She and Spike were right, I should take it easy. Laying down seems like a pretty good idea right about now, actually, given that my vision's been swimmy the last thirty seconds or so. Besides, I've been studying healing evocations. I'm sure I can touch myself up at least enough to be able to trot around freely, if Spike's able to smuggle in some reference material. And if the hospital doesn't mind some chalk and ink on the ground.

Redheart raises a brow, but seems content with my compliance. At that, Piercer nods to the guard next to me, who steps forward to offer his side to lean on back to my bed.

"I've got it, thanks though." I give him a polite nod, and stumble back towards my room. Whether out of concern or duty, he stays beside me anyways, but he’s courteous enough to stay half a meter or so away as I make my way to the bed and crawl back into it. Spike takes the guard's place as he excuses himself and reclaims his post outside the room, closing the door silently behind him. I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding in, and it's not until I'm relaxed on my side again I realize I was starting to sweat and shake from the exertion. Now that it's just Spike and I again, I get to thinking.

"I'm not helping you break out of here." Spike states flatly, leaning against the wall beside me. I look up at him, startled.

"What?" I blink. I wasn't thinking that at all.

He opens his mouth and his eyes narrow in a 'Yes you were' way, but he hangs there a moment and sighs, looking back into the middle of the room, mulling something over in his head. Something's gotten into him today, and it's starting to get to me now, too. He's barely out of reach, so I summon a mage hoof and pat him on the head a couple times to try and diffuse the tension.

"Alright young dragon, spill it." I pry.

His eyes flick toward mine. They're much larger than usual all of a sudden, and they seem to have a lot going on behind them. But then he shakes his head quickly, working out how to say what's on his mind.

"How are we... How are we always so calm when this kind of stuff happens? And... Why's it always have to be us, you know?" He lifts a clawed foot and kicks idly at the air a few times. I think I see where this is going, but I let him continue the thought. "When's the last time we had a month straight just to have fun or relax? Last week it was Trixie's mass invisibility spell with the chickens, a month ago Cadence needed us to help suppress echoes of Sombra's influence through the crystal resonators, the month before that it was the changeling scare with Blueblood-" He's getting more agitated with every sentence, and it comes to a peak as he pushes himself forward from the wall, clenches his fist and opens his mouth to shout something, but the clawed fist hangs for a moment while he looks for the right words. The steam vents out of him in the moment and he simply shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head, defeated.He looks down at the floor for a little while, and I'm not quite sure what to say to that.

"We're important," "We're special," "Because only we can do the things that need to be done."; They're all acceptable answers we've come to accept despite the hubris of it. But looking at him now, I understand it's just not enough to justify how much of a hassle the world's been putting on him, on us, on everypony. Thinking about it, admittedly less-than-objectively, has me staring at the ground now too, and Spike and I both stew in the uncertainty of how to explain our intent to each other.

"Honestly, Twilight, I'm scared." He suddenly pipes up, breaking the silence. My ears perk up and swivel up with the rest of me, and he stares up towards the blank slate-white ceiling, lost in something I can't see. "We've saved Equestria half a dozen times over, but if we'd failed even once, you- We'd be..." His voice is shaking a bit, and it cracks at the end. I open my mouth to say something to comfort him, to tell him we won't ever fail, but I can't. I can't disrespect his fears so simply like that. How long has he been carrying this around by himself? Did it really take getting hospitalized for me to ask that? Oh, Celestia, I could really use your guidance right about now.

"Spike, I..." I start the sentence without knowing what I'm going to say. The words trail off, though, and there's no way they'll sound comforting anyway. There isn't any answer I can give that will make him feel better, so instead, I settle for being honest. "It scares me too," I admit, "but you know why?" He nods slightly. "It's not because I'm afraid of the worst. Or, even if I am a little bit... It's because of everypony else who's on the line when we're the only ones who can salvage it all." And then I stare straight ahead again, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. This conversation was supposed to help ease his worries, not bring mine up. We both go back to contemplative silence.

"But, Twilight," Spike says after a moment. Clearly that wasn't what he wanted to hear, because he turns away from me, and I see a tiny spout of flame erupt from his nostrils. "What if things don't go our way, what happens next time? Who does it hurt if we let somepony else rise to some all-important challenge tomorrow, y'know? When do we get a pat on the back, Princess Celestia tells us 'good job,' and we let somepony else handle it? Unfair isn't even close to-" He's shaking again, and I can't bear lying here while he does this. Oh parasprites I'm going to regret this-

My horn glows purple, and in an instant I'm beside him while he's fighting down his emotions. My limbs scream at my sudden disrespect of my injuries, but I shove it aside and pull him into a hug with me. Thankfully he's willing to let me pull him to the floor with me while we hug it out. Because really, ow. He continues muttering incoherent concerns and possibilities, and I just keep holding him tighter as he cries into my shoulder. It takes everything I've got to not start crying right there with him, but I manage. Just barely.

"None of that's going to happen, Spike. At least not for now." I reassure him, and for some reason I believe it. Hopefully it's not the re-development of a goddess complex, but I have confidence in myself that I can stop whatever it is that's threatening us from the shadows, no matter who or how many.

"You can't say that for sure-" He hugs me back tighter, like he's afraid of what will happen if he lets go.

"I can." I interrupt him, quietly but firmly.

That seems to resonate, because he doesn't have a rebuttal for it. Another minute or two passes before he calms down and finally eases his grip on my shoulders then slumps forward, emotionally exhausted.

"I got letters from the Princess." He mutters, quietly into my chest. "At least 10, they're under the bed."

It takes me a moment to switch from maternity mode to information-parsing mode, but I crane my neck up and to the left and sure enough, there's a small mountain of scrolls bearing the seal of the royal sisters opened and unfurled on the floor. I pick one at random, and float it over. My eyes gloss over the contents, but a couple lines in I begin to tense up.

'Twilight,
I swear to you that I will personally see to this matter. I believed hostile actors to not be a significant threat in Ponyville, and in so doing my judgement indirectly lead to your injuries. I am so, so sorry you had to experience this, I will be in Ponyville by nightfall.
-Celestia'

I float another over.

'Twilight,

My intelligence ponies have informed me that there was an accident, I pray you're faring well. If anything is required, hesitate not to as-'

Another.

' Twi-
I will not be arriving by nigh-
not be arriving at all, as a matter o-
Lunar Guard has me under supervision on Luna-
such a time I'm deemed emotionally prepared to leav-
fireproof throne room was an apt decision, it seems. Nonetheles-
Please do stay safe, Twilight. Luna will come to your aid in my stead b-
-Your mentor,
Princess Celestia'

The page is frail and dry, and the top right third of it is charred black beyond readability as if it had been stuck in a fire. I gulp down my very heavy concern, and let out a long, deep breath through my nose. I never thought I would see such an... Unhinged display from the Princess. In a horrible, guilty way it's touching to see she cares that much about my safety, but seeing this from her is also deeply unsettling.

"Yeah..." Spike mutters, and I assume the others are no better. I rest my head on his shoulder as well, glossing over a couple more of the letters, trying to sort the order they arrived in. I see why Spike didn't want to mention these when I first woke up, this is probably what got him so shook up in the first place. A Goddess sending you frantic, emotionally-charged letters through dragon mail while your best friend is possibly comatose definitely can't be a soothing experience. For a while we stay there, resting against each other on the floor in relative silence until a few sets of heavy hoof-falls from the hall signal a visitor. My ears perk up again, and we both separate to turn our heads towards the door.

The door opens, and flanked by two Lunar Guards wearing jet-black chitin-like armor is Princess Luna. And she looks pissed.

Author's Note

I have my reservations about the level of drama in this chapter, as I'm not well-read with it, but decided to post it anyway. Also probably the longest past sequence for the next few chapters by a long shot.

5 - Difficult Problems, Simple Solutions

DIFFICULT PROBLEMS, SIMPLE SOLUTIONS

"Do you remember the Chaos Wars, dear sister? The day our kingdom was destroyed?" A bright golden aura wavered around Celestia's horn, pointed forward and commanding the sun's retreat for the night, and it obeyed. Through centuries of fighting and retaliation it had learned that to struggle against the Alicorn Goddess was a futile effort. It obeyed Celestia's command obediently and without hesitation, not unlike a well-trained dog. And so was her legacy, the pony that tamed the sun.

The princesses sat together upon the balcony of their castle. They looked out over the land as evening gave way to twilight, the scant minutes between the two sisters' duties where their emblems were both absent from the sky. The horizon tinted purple and red, and a lighter azure glow sparked to life as Celestia's golden magic faded.

"I fear that to forget those days wouldst be to forget myself," Luna said bitterly. "Our kingdom suffered grievously under Discord's regime."

Celestia sighed. "Yes… though I suppose we should view it more positively. We survived the war, and we were able to rebuild again within a generation after its conclusion…" She unfurled a large wing, extending it to envelop her sister beside her. Though when she made the contact Luna flinched forward, and her magic wavered as the stars being painted into existence blinked, sputtered and died. The sky reverted to an empty canvas, and the two sat in an uncertain stillness under an empty sky.

"Wherefore wilt thou not punish me for my transgressions?" Luna broke the silence, staring out over the still city below them with a distant expression.

"You believe punishment would correct your mistakes?"

Luna lowered her gaze, feeling ashamed. "To fix and to atone art very different things. So many things could have gone differently if only we—"

"Lulu," Celestia interrupted gently, and this time there was no flinch as she rested a large wing over her sister, pulling them together to reconcile the distance that yet remained. "I've forgiven you, I forgive you. I'm sorry that I failed to see your distress sooner. I know you hear me, but I need you to heed me. Self-destruction will not save either of us. You will get better.” Celestia closed her eyes briefly, gathering strength for what seemed like an impossible task. "In spite of our differences, there is much that binds us. We share the same mother, we share a kingdom, we share a home. That is enough for me, Lulu; I cannot ask the universe for anything more but you."

Celestia opened her eyes to look back into her sister's, and they shared a long moment before Luna finally succumbed to tears and slumped forward against their wings, leaning heavily onto Celestia's shoulder. Celestia wrapped around her sister's body with another embrace, cradling her head to her chest, and allowing her sister to cry until her sobs subsided to sniffles. She stroked her ephemeral hair, smoothing it away from her face and murmuring small comforts. Finally, Luna raised her chin to look up through tearstained lashes, studying Celestia's expression. Her tone trembled slightly, and she spoke in a low voice full of uncertainty.

"What happens now?"

Celestia smiled sadly, and gently drew her sister's chin down to kiss her forehead. "We continue living, sister. Even in times of crisis, life must go on. Everfree needs you just as much as it needs me."

The words were a cold reminder of the state Luna's attempted coup had left the Everfree in, but the heart behind them was warm. Both sisters held each other close once again, though Luna continued to stare at the cold stone balcony supporting them, her eyes hundreds of thousands of miles away.

"Forgive me…" Luna mumbled, as she suddenly slipped under and away from the embrace. Celestia hastily flapped her wings to right herself and furled her brow as the azure tint built up around Luna's horn again, but before she could raise a question the night sky exploded into color. New constellations shone through the bright twinkling backdrop, a multi-hued aurora began to unfurl itself over the forest from west to east, and a pink-and-blue mesh of cosmic inspiration framed the gleaming white moon as it settled into its' resting place in the night sky. The ponies of the kingdom gave a collective awe-inspired stare to the display, including Celestia.

"I've... Never seen such a work from you, Lulu!" She got to her hooves and walked beside Luna, who seemed to be struggling under the weight of the multitude of Alicorn-tier spells she continued to weave in and out of reality. It truly was beautiful, but it wasn't worth hurting herself.

"It is beautiful, Luna, truly, though save your strength for tonight, the nobility will require a level head," Celestia gently prodded. If her sister were to save any possible political fallout with the nobles and council, bleeding herself dry of mana was unlikely to aid in her chances of defending herself.

"It is not for them-" Luna muttered, closing her eyes tighter as the pain of high-tier magic began to catch up with her. "It is for thou, Sol. And for my beloved-" A small circle began to etch itself into the stone balcony below her, and she poured her magic and soul into it. It was draining, and it threatened to blow her away at a moment's hesitation, but she continued to channel herself into the spell, painting something for her sister and her sister alone.

Celestia's eyes ran up and down the straining form of her sister, and it became clear this was more than her custom spellcraft for raising the moon. The sigils carving themselves into the stonework were transposition-related, and even an alicorn didn't need this much power for raising the moon.

"Luna, what are you doing?” Celestia reached a hoof forward towards her, but as soon as it crossed the threshold of the magic circle, now nearly complete beneath her, she felt her hoof slammed down into the balcony, a tiny crack spiderwebbing a few inches outwards. "Luna, Luna stop this! Luna, where are you going!?" She tried again to reach her, but again her hoof was forced down onto the cold stone by a massive well of artificial gravity surrounding the circle.

Luna heard the rising concern and panic, but couldn't meet her sister's gaze, her shame was too great. It wasn't fair for Celestia to suffer trying to protect her, and even if she did they both knew there was no stopping whatever affliction had its' dark grasp over her heart. Magic just wasn't there yet, if it ever would be. And until it was, she would only continue to hurt and undermine the both of them. This was the right thing to do.

"I wilt not be meeting the nobles, nor the council. I shall repent in my own way, until the den comes whither i can be freed from this affliction." A fresh stream of tears began to form, but were quickly plucked and forced to the stone ground by the growing intensity that was weighing her down. "I am sorry, verily, sister. This is for the best for both of us, and i wilt not allow thou to jeopardize thy visions of Equestria for me." She pressed her forehooves against the stone a final time, the tears falling thick and heavy now, and in the corner of her eye she saw Celestia casting spell after spell, golden dancing lights and beams trying and failing to pierce the boundary of her nullification barrier, to destroy the stone balcony, to force her way inside. Celestia was screaming, begging for her to stop, that she didn't have to do this, but the roar of her magic overpowered them both, and she was left to collapse beside Luna, staring up helplessly as she watched her sister begin to glow brightly, a bubbling blackness rising up from her hooves in retaliation to this final act of defiance.

Luna forced one final look down at the white Alicorn whose heart she knew she was breaking, and immediately regretted it. Never before had she seen her sister so wholly defeated, in such anguish. Not even with her dying breath did she display such raw sorrow, collapsed and begging for her to stay.

And that was the last the two saw of each other. As quickly as the spell came, it blinked out of existence, and Luna along with it. As the darkness fell Celestia's senses returned to her, and she realized she was alone.

She turned around slowly, searching the balcony, the room, the skies for any sign of Luna, but found nothing. She pulled herself back onto the floor and looked about her, heaving short, labored breaths as panic overtook her. She was gone. Luna was gone, off to a land unknown or worse.

The breath caught in her throat and she froze, slowly turning her head until she was staring at the etchings in the stone floor beside her. Perhaps it wasn't too late, with a wide enough recollection spell, if she could reverse engineer the order of runic coordinates, she could bring Luna back from wherever her destination was. Fi. Epsi, relay. Vit. Epsi. Mité, Divine. Lunis-

Celestia's heart faltered. Staring hopelessly at the array before her, the reality stuck that it would be impossible. She stumbled forward, then slowly lowered herself down into the last place her sister stood and curled into a ball to cry. She laid there, sobbing into the stonework for hours beneath a beautiful and intricate canvas of night featuring the head of a mare imprinted on the moon.

Luna was pissed. And oh boy, do I mean pissed. You know that feeling you get when an earth pony that could accidentally break you in half look at you like you just trampled his mother's grave? Take that, but the earth pony is Big Mac with anger issues, and multiply that by about eighty. For a second, I'm scared to speak out of turn for fear she might obliterate me for stacking just one last straw on her back. Judging from the shaking dragon I'm half hugging, Spike's got about the same instinct.

For a moment she stands in the doorway, and just stares directly at me. Oh buck, did I trample somepony's grave on accident? Did I say something? Does my scent offend? The nurses probably didn't sponge bath me in the half a day I've been here, oh horseapples I didn't bathe and it's offending Princess Luna and now she wants to-

"Twilight, why do you quake so?" Luna questions, and I find myself prostrating at some point between detaching from spike and jumbling together the second paragraph of my apology for not preparing for her hospital visit in a more befitting manner, or at all. The next few moments are a blur, and I hear the Clinks of her horseshoes as she approaches me, and envelops me with her magic.

Well, I guess I had a good life.

I squeeze my eyes shut, awaiting my inescapable fate, and feel two metal regal-clad hooves clamp down on either side of my face, forcing me to stare forward. I open my eyes, and instead of a portal to tartarus is Luna, tilting her head quizzically at me before she frowns.

"Perhaps the medication they prescribe in Ponyville require stricter regulation. Nonetheless, I require you to be coherent, Twilight Sparkle. Remain still," As if I could struggle out of her magical grip even if I wanted to.

I see a second layer of her magic layering over the relatively dim glow of her telekinesis aura, and there's a sudden pressure on and throughout my body. It's not particularly painful, but it's extremely uncomfortable, as if the muscle and bone and cells and sinew were all being categorically separated and re-arranged inside of me, atom by atom, molecule by molecule. The sounds of the room dither and distort, my eyes unfocus and my heartbeat is the only thing I can hear clearly, but even that's beating on double-time. I'm not sure if it's a shiver that runs down my spine or if it's part of her spell, but as per her intent I remain unable to do much more than squirm mid-air throughout the process of what I assume to be healing evocations from her personal spell repertoire.

The soreness in my chest begins to subside, and I feel the fractures in my hooves literally knitting themselves whole again. There’s a slight ringing in my ears that I'm not entirely unfamiliar with, the kind that comes a full day after a Vinyl concert. I feel my hooves touch the floor, but I don't think I'm ready to stand quite yet and I instead slump onto the floor, panting and sweating in my newly tuned-up body. I feel what I assume to be Spike's clawed hand on my back jostling me around, and I don't have the energy to react. I crack open an eye to see an out-of-focus white earth pony emoting aggressively towards Princess Luna, but it quickly dissolves into a black blur.

I'm awake. I'm awake!

"I'M AWAKE!" I yell out bolting upright in my hospital bed, head swiveling all around me. I expect to be greeted by the shock of soreness from my many bruises, but I find that all my limbs are operating flawlessly and without pain to boot, which is a pleasant surprise. Better than that, even, I feel absolutely fantastic! My eyes must be the exception, though, because though my eyes are open I can't see anything. I hear a lot of shuffling on either side of me, and the sounds of hooves and armor rising and moving towards me.

Calm, stay calm, rationalize and compartmentalize. I can't see because it's nighttime, I was last awake in the evening. The shuffling is likely hospital staff, the armor is either royal guard or Luna's personal guard, meaning there's a good chance that she's also in the room.

"Princess Luna? Spike?" I force out calmly, and I feel a familiar hand on my shoulder as Spike climbs up next to me and starts fiddling with something. A moment later there's a sleeping mask dangling from his claw, and I'm met with a candle-lit room occupied by two Lunar guard, one Royal guard, a princess, Spike and myself, all of whom are looking at me expectantly. I offer them an expectant stare in return. Thankfully Luna picks up the slack.

"Twilight Sparkle, how do you feel? I apologize for not requesting your consent prior, though you seemed impaired at the time." She tightens her mouth a bit as she apologizes. While she is right, I wouldn't really consider it justification, though I'm far too concerned with getting some answers out of anypony than I am arguing semantics right this moment. Before I ask anything I glance to my left at the single window in the room and see moonlight streaming in through the half-pulled curtains. It's a full moon, and it's plenty to see by even without the candles. So nighttime, I was right about one thing then.

"How long have I been out?" I ask plainly, inviting anypony to answer though I look to Luna. Thankfully, I get a straight answer.

"Nary an hour, I allowed your body to rest for a time while I attended my nightly duty, then roused you from your slumber. I am informed of the events of the last two days, Spike has shared the disturbing tales of possible stalking and we've taken the liberty of bringing your Papers salespony in for questioning as well. I am told he is without fault, though I will personally assure it by daybreak." She pauses for a moment to let me digest it all, but continues before I can ask another question. "The pegasus mare Goldfish is being detained in a temporary nullification chamber whilst we await your recovery. Whilst I would question her myself, I see it pertinent to allow you the first attempt, as she seems eager to speak with you. Yes, I will take you to her now. No, nopony else was hurt, and yes your friends are aware and have been told not to approach until this is resolved."

I blink at that. I guess that explains why none of them came to visit in the time I've been out, Spike surely would have mentioned if they had. A nullification chamber, though?

Nullification chambers are basically sensory deprivation zones, created by layering a multitude of modified one-way silence wards, light absorb-and-reflect barrier domes, and magic nullification fields tuned to one or several schools of magic, namely divination and evocation-classification if I remember correctly. Chain a pony down in the middle of one of those and they’re basically out of options without a counter-nullification charm or help from the outside. You can set them up anywhere you have room for all the magic circles, like a prison cell or a living room, but they’re also capable of being set up as a mobile detainment center, so the term ‘chamber’ isn’t necessarily all-encompassing.

"But why is that necessary? My friends aren’t involved in this!" I protest, as firm as I'm comfortable being in my position. I trust Luna, but I've still never been sure where we stand with each other in terms of respect and social affordances.

"This investigation and ordeal is to be contained. Details pertaining to the organization she represents are considered Indigo Cosmic."

Holy buck. Indigo Cosmic is above even most military clearance, only Shiny and a select few intelligence branch leaders would have access to whatever it is she's talking about. The frustrations and mental drain of the last day are immediately replaced by a spark of curiosity. It catches quickly, and I begin blazing through hundreds of possibilities of what such a highly-restricted label could categorize this event as. Thankfully I'm indulged before I get too lost in thought.

"I'm told you were studying Chronomancy despite the royally decreed restriction, is this true?" Luna asks. Her tone's very intentionally neutral, but I can tell there's something burning behind her eyes when she asks.

"Yes, though I was stumped when it came to thermal recalibra-"

"A moment, if you please. The details are insignificant at this time." She trots closer to the bedside, and even sitting upright on an elevated bed she's still taller than I am. "From what tomes did you draw your references, and what temporal equations were contained therein?"

That's a tough one, it almost takes me a full second to recall the authors of the books. "Several theoretical works written by Clover, at least two of the Quantum Informality series, and a redundant copy of Magic Circle Thermodynamics from the Aspiring Mage series, though that came later." I recite, confident in my answer. "Quark boundary-limiters were mentioned, though most of the suggested integers required for temporal manipulation were obscure, ridiculous or outright impossible. Which, as I was saying, is where the thermal problem came up, and you should know the rest," I nod to Spike, who looks between the two of us and nods back to me.

Luna seems unimpressed.

"And those are the only tomes you claim to have had access to?" Again, there's this feeling like she suspects me of something, but she's hiding it behind a poker face Celestia could be proud of.

"I mean, yeah, I think so?" I grind my gears for another full second, and I'm fairly confident those are the only materials with relevant content I cross-referenced. The only other book I had was … "Star-Swirl's Book of Prophecies, but that didn't have anything relevant inside of it."

...

This is the part where Luna's supposed to say something back, but she's still just standing there with that blank stare into my soul, and there's an eerie hush that falls over the room. Out of the corner of my eye I see Luna's two personal guards glance at each other and blink, and I wonder if I said something wrong. I glance at Spike, and he's just as unsure as I am.

"Sorry, I think I'm missing something-" I begin, and there's a crack in the poker face. Luna's eye twitches violently, and I cut my words off before I accidentally bring a shovel to a graveyard. She stays composed, albeit with great effort, and she raises her head to stare at the ceiling while she thinks what to say next.

"How did you acquire such a tome, Twilight Sparkle?"

"What do you mean? It's public domain, the book's hundreds of years old. I found a copy of it lodged in the fiction section between Moby Duck and The Mopey Huntsmare, is it rare?"

Luna looks back down at me, and to her credit she's suppressing whatever it is that's bothering her pretty well.

"Not rare, Twilight, non-existent. Such a work was never published."

That's not right. That can't be right.

"That can't be right. That book was there when I took responsibility for the library, I remember coming across it day one when Spike helped me re-re-organize the booking and filing system, I remember it specifically because even after I read the whole thing it sounded like nonsensical ramblings, nothing like his other works. That's why I thought to ask you about him years ago in Canterlot, after Blueblood's charity announcement!" I know she remembers what I'm talking about, because the same dark cloud falls over her face as the one from the day I asked her about Star Swirl.

"Princess, I think it's important you tell me what's going on. If this is really an indigo cosmic tier threat, I already know too much to be left in the dark." I'm gentle and particular about how I word that, but it's true. There's clearly something she's not telling me, or everypony. I'm not going to question her if she decides to shut me down and handle it herself, but if I'm going to be helpful then exchanging information is the first step to formulating a proper hypothesis.

I can see the storm clouds above her head churning, and there's some incalculable thought process she must be going through to weigh what to do next. When she doesn't answer for a full minute, I gently follow up the pressure.

"How do you remember that it was never published? Star Swirl has plenty of published works, I've read all of them. I don't at all mean to insult you, Princess, but is it possible that with all of them you just happened to miss that this particular book was published or distributed?"

"Impossible." She fires back immediately. She blinks at me, holds her head still for a moment, then curtly walks away to stare out the window on the other side of the room.

And that solidifies it in concrete, there's something extraordinarily fishy going on here. She's not giving me any hints, and it's clear she's either uncomfortable or angry about some aspect of me knowing Star Swirl's book of prophecies even exists. Maybe that's the best place to start.

"He was your student, wasn't he? The same way I am to Princess Celestia." It's a shot in the dark, but even if I'm wrong there's the chance she corrects me and we get a good dialogue going. I don't get much of a reaction out of her, but after a moment she sighs and returns to my bedside. I feel like I should be standing for this, and I scoot over towards the edge of the bed before Spike stops me.

"Oh, no you don't." He crosses his arms, matter-of-factly.

"Spike, I'm fine, Luna's spell worked properly. I'm not even sore anymore!"

He still seems skeptical.

"Pinkie swear," I cross a hoof over my chest, raise it high in the air, and stick it in my eye. "Now c'mon, scoot."

He reluctantly hops off the bed himself, and he has his hands outreached to catch me if it turns out my hooves aren't ready to support my weight like I expected. I take it slow, though, and I find I'm as honest as I thought I was; There's no pain, no soreness, and I'm standing tall between the two of them. I feel a bit lighter than usual, actually, like moving is more effortless. I have a sudden urge to test my hundred-meter gallop time, but I quickly refocus as Luna clears her throat and begins giving me the answers I'm looking for.

"Star Swirl was indeed my pupil, our pupil, in an era long since past. Though admittedly she was much more distant with her students then. In so being, I was self-delegated to overseeing his studies and tutored him on subjects not widely known to the scholars of that age. Knowing how keen a mind he had, how swiftly he learned things, I realized he would rise to be a prodigy. But while such individual ponies do propel us through the ages with their developments, one of the many duties sister and I share is controlling the rate at which that development happens."

She tilts her head over her shoulder and stares at me, quietly gauging my reactions while I try to wrap my mind around these revelations. It makes sense listening to it, but there's a whole new layer when you start to dissect it. I'm beginning to feel a strange sensation in my gut again, but I can't make out what it is.

"You misinformed him to stem the development of time magic...” I think out loud, and my stomach knots over itself thinking about the circumstances that would have put him in. If I were led on with false information and I found out it was intentional, I would never be able to trust that pony again. And if it were a decade of research, or even a life-long pursuit? What if the princess had sent me to Ponyville under the guise of studying the magic of friendship, only to meter my research on a topic she disapproved of, or feared I was developing too quickly?

I don't remember growing wings, but I realize I'm hovering a foot off the ground, and Luna's concerned face is directly in front of mine. There's that ringing in my ears again, how long has it been that loud? I blink the haze from my eyes and shake my head, and suddenly I'm back in the present with them.

"S- sorry, can you repeat that?" I squirm around a bit, and Luna sets me back on the floor gently with a quizzical look.

"I said 'No.' Your presumption was incorrect. We naturally withheld some information from beyond his time, as we do with all our ponies, though knowledge freely obtained is free to be kept. Intentionally misdirecting the development of our ponies serves us little, doubly so with those we entrust a great deal to."

There's still another aspect that troubles me, something else I've just missed. The wording—'We naturally withheld…' She must mean his development path wasn't deliberate, or at least not planned. Why use that word instead of '…we made sure to withhold'—and why imply Star Swirl wouldn't become a prodigy if they'd told him everything up front? This is getting very off track, but it's too important to not bite.

"So you're saying you knew more about Star Swirl's research than he did, but chose not to tell him. Why?"

Luna stares at me in silence, and waits. She clearly wants me to infer why she'd withheld information on my own, but this is different from my studies. Friendship is something I had to experience, nopony could have just told me ‘Oh, friends are great! You should try it!’ and resolved my glaring flaws. Some tried anyway.

Quantum Thaumaturgy and Chronomancy are different, though. They're all either theoretical balancing acts, or very literal quill-to-scroll numbers. That is different, isn't it? If Luna were to tell me- Would it be cheating to ask her if she knows the solution to the thermal problem? She must, that's the only reason she'd detour our conversation so far.

"What is the correct denomination for N's Delta over a fixed period of time, given predictable energy transfer rates?" I ask bluntly.

She doesn't respond, and more importantly she doesn't react. She doesn't move an inch. The lack of a tell is a calculated tell, she knows and she's purposefully not giving me any indication. I'm racking my brain, but I just don't understand what there is to be gained from stunting the entire school of magic behind one variable that she refuses to elaborate on. Unless...

"You're a chronomancer…?" I blurt out absentmindedly. It's obvious she knows the magic, Princess Celestia naturally would too, that's no surprise. But the reality that it's an ability she could actually be utilizing is what starts kicking my mind into gear. Could there have been some catastrophic event stemming from this school of magic that she's attempting to prevent? How far back did she go? How many times? Does she know what I'm going to say?

She continues to sit in silence, but she gives a subtle nod to her personal guard, and they take their leave to join the royal guard in the hall outside to give us the room.

"Yes, among many other things I am indeed a Chronomancer, though that may not mean what you believe it to. I cannot read your mind, I cannot reverse the flow of time, I cannot unmake that which has been made. Such magics are beyond even Alicorns, they belong only to the heavens." She walks beside me, and with a heavy sigh she doffs her neck regalia and tiara, tossing them at the foot of the bed. It's far too small for her, but she sits herself on the floor and leans her upper half on the top, laying her head squarely in her crossed forehooves. I can't remember the last time I saw her without her regalia on, but it catches me off guard to see her suddenly shift to that level of casual.

"Twilight, I cannot give you the answer that you ask of me, but I can give you what I gave him," I'm still standing, and suddenly I feel like I've been somehow disarmed; Politically, conversationally, all of the above. But with the promise of some kind of hint, my ears perk up and I sit beside her, resting my right forehoof on the edge and facing her as she turns her head to face me while it's resting on her own forehooves. Her stonewall expression is gone, and it's replaced by something much more somber, more detached.

"What is the solution to the thermal outflux?" She asks simply, staring at me with a casual conversational tone, as if she had asked what the weather for the day was.

Again, what?

If this is what she gave Star-Swirl, I have absolutely no idea how he managed the breakthroughs he did. I spent the tail end of the week just trying to rebalance that equation before Goldfish's note made its' way to me, and even that was an impossibility. Sending energy to the past violates two laws of thermodynamics, and at least a dozen basic guidelines for theoretical self-containment spellcraft practices.

"There isn't one. It's impossible to destroy energy." I finally reply, confident in my answer. I want to stand up and pace around, but I feel as if that would somehow be rude to the princess relaxing at the edge of my hospital bed.

"You are correct on only one account. It is indeed impossible to destroy energy." She continues looking at me with a neutral expression, and I'm not sure if she's uninterested or secretly rooting for me. I'm not sure which I'd more surprised by at this point, but she's giving me a chance, she's telling me in no uncertain terms that I shouldn't give up on this, and she thinks I can figure it out here and now, without references. Princess Luna believes in me, and with the history of thousands of years of pony academia and history on my side, I'll figure it-

"What if you just, I dunno, sent cold air forward in time before you cast the spell that generates the heat that gets sent backwards?" Spike suddenly hops on the bed beside my head, and Luna and I both blink a few times at the interruption, staring at him.

"No, that couldn't possibly work. That would require you to- to..." I trail off. Huh. That... Could work. If you adjusted for variable imperfections in the casting matrix and used a relay to ensure consistent flow going both forward and backward, I guess in theory you could...

I rack my brain, but I can't find a legitimate reason that it wouldn't work. I look over to my left to gauge Luna's reaction, if any.

Her eyes are wide and her mouth is just ever-so-slightly ajar. Spike sits at the head of the bed, looking back and forth between the two of us as we both just stare at him.

"What?"

Author's Note

End of the Hospital Arc :^)

6 - She Doesn't Have A Choice

SHE DOESN'T HAVE A CHOICE

"If I established a spatially-locked quantum entanglement field, it would be easier to observe the subtle nuance between a standard temporally-locked array and a free-flowing one." A clipped colt's voice echoed across the room, bouncing off the long walls, high ceiling, and multitude of sliding chalkboards all riddled seemingly incoherently with advanced magical and mathematical equations. Graphs, repeated words like "quark," "quantumly divided," and "imbecilic" dominated large swathes of multiple of them. While the last one was hardly a word, it did help him channel his frustrations when he underlined it multiple times in chalk.

"well, wherefore don't thou conduct such a test, then?" A rich, regal voice dripping with sarcasm rang out from in front of him. It was only slightly condescending, but they expected and encouraged that from each other. It kept them on their toes, kept them thinking.

"You know well why, nightmare," he chided in response. It was a fitting nickname when they were in the middle of a fit of banter, made all the more appropriate by her day job- Or rather, night job. "The thermal output would in and of itself null any findings as unprovable and unbacked without a proper control group, which there cannot be without a true vacuum. Even with a thousand attempts over a thousand days which would leave me a magically crippled husk, a similar finding with each attempt still falls outside of acceptable variance."

Luna didn't follow that one up, this was where she had a duty to maintain to her kingdom. She had dabbled in this art a millennia ago, and it took her nearly a full lifetime of on-and-off study to jury rig an appropriate apparatus to make it even remotely plausible. That was with the magic of an alicorn to brute-force its' size and technology far beyond what the Everfree kingdom had developed. Without the massive wellspring of an Alicorn, which was basically just brute forcing the problem by minimizing the impact of thermal irregularity, Star Swirl would have to find a proper solution before his research could continue in any facet.

Star Swirl, however, was annoyed at the damning wrench of a problem something so small was posing. Something this insignificant should have been solved and moved past in a matter of minutes with a mind like his, and here he was for nearly a month no closer to an answer. In fact, he was further from an answer given the amount of possibilities that had been ruled out, such as 'dual hoofball-sized entanglement fields,' 'getting Luna to tell me,' and 'threaten Luna with a relational hiatus until she tells me.' The latter almost worked after about a week, but just served to sharpen her temper. Twice already she'd lectured Star Swirl about the duty she had to not rush magical and technological advancement prematurely, and twice the argument had ended in her bed chambers.

"Dost thou find thy failure to proceed amusing?" Luna quipped. Star Swirl found himself blinking the rare smile from his face, re-focusing. She was right. Keep thinking.

"It's always possible we're- that I'm missing something obvious." He started. "But if you've got another way-"

"I do not." She cut off the beginnings of another pointless conversation, a tiny hint of boredom seeping into her voice.

"Do not blame me for your lack of patience." Star Swirl casually accused, his attention focused back onto the book open before him, examining the diagrams carefully. It was clear these were things only he knew how to read or interpret properly as his eyes spied through the books' pages. Encrypted formula shorthoof, one of the many paranoia-driven behaviors he began to adopt in recent years as he suspected other aspiring scholars could attempt to publish his findings as their own, if only they stole away one of his spellbooks.

He didn't notice, however, the fuming alicorn preparing a lengthy riot act for him, as he continued to skim the pages.

"Thou dare to infer to know the nature of an alicorn's patience? I should like to see thou live a millenia or ten and repeat such blasphemy!" While it wasn't her 'royal' voice, otherwise known as screaming with extra steps, it was loud. It didn't preterb the studious unicorn though, who flipped to the next page in search of a specific footnote from last week's failed experiment.

"And I should like to see you gain mortality and come to realize the value of such time when it is limited." His voice was quieter this time. It was fueled by spite, not at Luna but the nature of his own mortality. It was the reason he endeavored to cultivate such a school of magic in the first place. Mastery over time itself, the possibilities were limitless. Though he knew he'd never succeed, as the first thing he would do when he solved it would be to travel back to the inception of his studies and give himself the answers to the entire problem, he still had to try. It could mean immortality akin to the princesses, an eternal lifetime to become a true master of his craft, to put the title of Archmage to shame.

But Luna couldn't know that, he wasn't sure if she could even comprehend that, having lived for longer than she'd ever been willing to disclose, and without an end in sight. It wouldn't surprise him if she and Celestia purposefully crippled the development of magic such as this in an attempt to mitigate anything that could theoretically harm them.

The corners of Luna's mouth twitched in agitation, and her frame was frozen in place with a barely-contained rage. She'd sent ponies to the gallows for far less, and for just a moment she considered that perhaps she afforded Star Swirl too much leniency, accepted too much disrespect despite their relationship. When the thoughts all boiled to a head, though, she yelled in frustration and blinked out of existence in a flash of azure light, leaving the room silent once again.

"There it is," Star Swirl muttered, finding the footnote he was looking for.

I am so not ready for this. I'm putting on a brave face, but the reality that an imprisoned pegasus mare who's been stalking me for weeks or months or even years wants to talk to me and only me has me on edge. I have no idea what she's going to say, and I'm scared of what she might. Spike picks up on it, but thankfully he doesn't raise a scene about it. He knows I need to do this. That doesn't stop him from latching onto my left shoulder as we walk though, and the familiar presence quells some of the anxious thoughts running rampant in my mind.

"Sorry for assuming it wouldn't work." I suddenly blurt out, my mind settling on our conversation with Princess Luna before we left the hospital. "I shouldn't have just assumed your idea was a bad one, I just heard it and-"

"I get it, I didn't think it would work either. It might still not, who knows?" He interrupts me, but he's got a small grin on his face. I've got to treat him to some fried gemstones after this is all over, to Tartarus with the food budget.

Luna had teleported us to the edge of town from my hospital room after ordering a guard to inform the nurses of our departure, and now the five of us- Spike, Luna, myself, and two Lunar Guard- were making our way towards the Everfree. It would make sense for them to detain her here, nopony with a will to live ever wanders within spitting range of the treeline, where the gnarled roots are just waiting to gobble you up and never spit you back out.

"So, uh... Did she say anything at all?" I try to keep any conversation flowing, addressing Luna. I'm keeping pace to stay in line with her, but I need to go just faster than a trot, but not quite a gallop to do so. It's awkward, like when you're leading somepony somewhere who's exactly 20% slower than you. With all the quests I've been on, it happens more often than you'd think.

"Nay, I am afraid." She turns to face forward, and it seems like she doesn't have anything else to add. So much for conversation. We continue to walk in silence for another minute or so, breaching the treeline as the dirt path quickly fades to an overgrown suggestion.

"There is nothing to fear, Twilight. She is helpless in this state, the runecraft is my own. I would bet my immortal soul on it." She states after another moment, and with such a confident bravado it's easy to tell she believes it. Not just that, she said it in such a matter-of-fact way that I question if even Murphy's Law could stand up to such a bold proclamation. I try not to linger on that last part though, instead finding some solace in it. I'm being personally escorted by Princess Luna and her private detachment of Lunar Guard, quite possibly with more on-site. It's just a talk, a talk with unknown stakes and intent in the equivalent of a sensory deprivation chamber with a mare that hospitalized me.

Why do I always do that to myself?

I don't have long to ponder it, though, as Luna suddenly takes a sharp left into the underbrush. With an effortless flick of her horn the undergrowth parts ways for us for hundreds of feet ahead, and closes behind us, leaving no trace of it having ever been manipulated. That's a really specific application of telekinesis, for it to leave such malleable growth so similar to its' pre-altered state. I make a mental note to ask her about it, but in the back of my mind I wonder if that's something that falls under the category of 'Magic beyond my time.' In a way it's infuriating to know that most of the discoveries I've made she's likely already lived through a society discovering, it makes some of the pride in my pursuit of knowledge deflate a little. I'm not the first to figure this out, and I might not even be the last, if the Princesses handle the collapse of pony society the way I'm starting to believe they do. It's a simultaneously humbling and terrifying thought.

We arrive at our destination—and it isn't much of one. A few smaller gnarled trees, a clearing maybe fifty yards across, and only a couple hundred deep, two minimalistic canopy tents with some machinery I don't recognize sitting on wooden tables likely hastily crafted from the nearby forest, and about half a dozen Lunar Guard not in ceremonial black-and-blue chitin-esque armor, but full enchanted platemail. They all stop what they're doing when Luna walks into view, and without a word they lean forward into a deep, reverent bow. She doesn't have to relieve them of the ceremony, though, as almost exactly three seconds after the uncomfortably synchronized display they resume what they were doing without a word. It's clear all these ponies have done this before.

What really grabs my attention, though, is at the center of the clearing. An opaque, jet-black dome, with a multitude of layers of powerful warding magic distorting the very air and space around it. I've seen a lot of wards, some powerful enough to minimally bend light itself, but never this. I feel like if I were to step too close to it, I'd fall past its' event horizon and never experience anything again.

I'm snapped out of my stupor by Luna, as she gently pushes me forward with a large wing. I start walking with her to one of the tables with strange metallic devices on them, all of which seem to be labeled in Old Ponish, which I'm not adept enough at to decipher with only a glance. The only words I can really make out in the moments I can see them are 'Power' and 'Anomaly'. There are an uncountable number of graphing devices constantly printing a deviation measurement on an exceedingly long stream of paper, dials set to strange symbols instead of numbers, and one of the guards is constantly flitzing with buttons that glow like a lightbulb at random intervals.

"I trust you to not speak of this technology to anypony, Twilight. It is seldom used, but it was a necessity. My guard are trained to guard its' secrecy with their very lives, and some have." She stares down at me expectantly. So this is future technology, then? I could probably decipher the function of about a third of the machines if I had a translation tome and about two days, but the rest of it is so absurdly beyond anything I've ever seen that it brings that sense of existentialism back to the surface.

I swallow it back down.

"Of course, on my life." I respond. Luna flinches at that, and I look back up at her. She's thinking something I can't imagine behind those stoic eyes, but she remains silent.

"I am sorry to have involved you with this secret, Twilight. Truly." We continue to stare at each other for a few moments longer, before she quickly trots forward, wiping a hoof at her face. I follow closely behind as she takes a seat on a large pillow beneath an otherwise empty canopy, and a guard brings two more forward for Spike and me. I thank him, but he only nods before returning to one of the machines. We both sit down with Luna.

"I must reiterate that everything I am about to tell you is classified Indigo Cosmic. Should any of this information be revealed to the public, the consequences could be catastrophic to the development and stability of Equestria." She puts on her Princess face, and speaks quickly in a clipped tone. She doesn't wait for a response before continuing. "I ask that you listen to me in full before raising questions or interrupting, as the possibility that I will answer your question thereforward is high." She pauses that time, and waits patiently for Spike and I to glance at each other. I nod back to her.

" Of cou-"

"No way!" Spike yells out, jumping to a standing position. It startles the both of us, and more than a few of the guards bristle at the display that could be barely classified as 'hostile.' "Why tell us all of this anyway, why show us all the fancy mumbo jumbo instead of just teleporting us next to her? Why's Twilight gotta do the dirty work and get thrown under the bus AGAIN? You could have just thrown some blankets over everything or moved her further away, somewhere in town!"

He's livid, and a reach a gentle hoof forward to reassure him. I'm okay with this, really. I'm used to it might be the better way of phrasing it, but semantics have a time and place, and this is neither. For the first time in years, though, he pushes my hoof away, defiantly staring at Luna.

"Spike-!" I'm hurt, this isn't like my Spikey Wikey, but his words from a few hours ago are trudged up in my mind.

'Why's it always have to be us, you know? When do we get a pat on the back, Princess Celestia tells us 'good job,' and we let somepony else handle it?'

Suddenly, I don't have anything to say. Worse, I'm actually curious what Luna has to say to that. For the second time in so many hours, she stares at the little ball of purple scales with unconcealed surprise, though clearly agitated by the accusations.

"I commend your bravery for speaking your mind, young dragon. I did not mean to imply that there was no choice in the matter, Twilight has every right to refuse. I must ask that you trust in my judgement on this matter." She says gently, recollecting her even, negotiating demeanor. Spike's unimpressed.

"You know she would never say no, not to a Princess. You shouldn't have thought to give her the choice, now even if she says no she'll be bothered about it for the rest of her life! It's not a choice, it's playing dirty because you want her to do something." Spike's aggression isn't going unnoticed, and Luna slams a hoof as she stands and presses her face down against his in an equally defiant manner, patience wearing thin.

"SHE HAS BEEN INVOLVED FOR YEARS, BY NO DIRECTIVE OF MY OWN! WERE WE TO BE IN CONTROL SHE WOULD NEVER HAVE KNOWN, AND SCORES OF THESE SO-CALLED PONIES WOULD BE WITHOUT BREATH!" She screams in the archaic Royal Canterlot voice. Several flocks of black birds take off from surrounding trees, and all the activity from the guards slams to a halt as all eyes are on her. For a moment, I'm concerned that she could be heard all the way back in Ponyville. Spike's bravado falters a bit as he shrinks away from the display, and I've seen enough.

"That's enough, both of you!" I step between them, and push spike back a few inches from Luna, who closes her eyes and raises her head attempting to recenter herself. In one day my expectations for three of the most important creatures in my life have been shattered by unhinged displays of emotion, I'm not sure I can take any more right now. "Please, both of you, just..." My words falter, and I find myself back on the ground, burying my head in by hooves. Oh Celestia, why is this all happening? Why can't this just be a simple exchange without ideals getting in the way? Why can't-

...What does she mean 'if' she were in control?

"Twilight, I'm sorry, I just-"

"We apologize for our- my-"

"What do you mean 'in control?' What's happening here? How long has this been going on?" I deadpan, staring forward instead of at either of them. I just want facts and logic right now, I need facts and logic. Something I can ingest, parse, extrapolate from and memorize.

I can't see her reaction, but from the way she takes a step back from me I can tell I've stumbled on something deeper. I just keep staring detachedly forward and wait for her response. Spike's grip on my side tightens a bit as he's probably upset I'm choosing to involve myself against his wishes, but he's right. I have to know, or I'll never forgive myself. I don't have a choice.

"That... I am not..."

"If you can't answer my questions, I can't trust that Spike isn't right and that you're manipulating me." The words are completely empty, hollow. I can't remember the last time I've actively distrusted somepony, and the fact that it's Princess Luna just has me completely at a loss for how to feel about any of it. So for the moment, I just don't.

"Twilight Sparkle, truly you do not wish to-" I snap my head right to stare at her, and she has the same look as when we first entered the clearing, after I promised to hide the technology's existence with my life. Something struck, though. Her head hangs low in some form of shame for unknowable reasons, and she sits back down across from us.

"Sister has planned contingencies for the appearance of members of this group, many of which involve you." She quietly and slowly mutters, a deep sense of guilt layered beneath her words. I can't find it in me to pity her, though. I hear that familiar high-pitched ring in my ears, and I feel myself approaching a breaking point.

That's done it. I officially can't trust anypony.

"She does care deeply for you, never before has a pupil of hers-" I'm uninterested in her justification, I just need a bit to process this. I need to mentally reset and think about all the angles in play, what my responses to those conditions should be, and who to place my trust in going forward. Clearly the Princesses don't mean me harm. Despite coming to the realization that I'm a pawn in some chessboard of Princess Celestia's making, I know that both want me to be safe and prosper. The ringing gets louder. Do they want me to prosper, though? How much of my academic pursuits would have been made easier by restricted tomes of bygone ages? Surely they must have scores of them in the Vault. Knowledge freely obtained is free to keep, that's what Luna said, but here she is simultaneously admitting to keeping secret centuries, at minimum, of developments from pony society. Is the fall of a society somehow akin to no longer being freely obtained, honestly worked for by generation after generation of those in pursuit of knowledge? When will this infuriating white noise go away?!

"Celestia, I can't even think!" I yell out, covering my ears with my hooves. There's silence, blissful silence, as I finally take a deep breath and look up. Spike's next to Luna, and it looks like they were mid-argument. I think I lost some time for a second there, but that's the least of my problems if I'm reading everything right.

"Tell me everything." I say plainly. The two look at each other, then back to me. Spike sighs, and Luna looks dejected, but nonetheless turns to face me. I face her back, and spike decides to sit between us instead of at my side, looking incredibly dejected. I'll apologize to him later. He doesn't want to hear it right now, and I don't want to say it right now.

"The ponies you encountered are agents from an organization known as the Chronomancer's Guild. They are fanatics about the development and application of Chronomancy, and are willing to go to any length to serve that purpose. They answer to a pony who calls himself 'The Timekeeper,' and he is as ruthless as he is clever. He has been rampant nearly nine hundred years now, indoctrinating the brightest of each era to his cause. Thankfully for everypony, he seems to understand the influence of his existence and operates in secret. Sister has yet to corner him, not for lack of trying through the years." I simply nod, and she continues.

"This pegasus will likely attempt to do so on his behalf, you need to mentally fortify yourself to not be taken by the promise of power or knowledge."

"How do you know the Timekeeper is a colt?" I ask, and she fidgets. Another lie of omission.

"I do not," She admits. Or lies. "Not for certain, though I believe their leader to be a unicorn. One from past times, with whom we are both familiar." She doesn't want to say it, but she knows I won't let it go. My heart sinks just a little bit more at the revelation that one more pony I adore just got added to the list of 'Re-evaluate my standing with their existence.'

"No way," Spike interjects for her, giving her an out. His eyes are wide, but I'm doing my best to remain detached until I can let everything catch up and have my mental breakdown safe and sound at home.

"Indeed. While he understood the policy Sister and I adhere to, he never truly agreed with it. After my banishment Celestia took up the mantle of mentoring him in my stead, though I can only imagine how he might have resented her, believing it was her doing."

"It wasn't?" I ask, and a hint of curiosity slips out. While I'm trying to figure out how to ask her to elaborate, she spares me the trouble.

"Nay. My banishment was of my own design and execution. So far even as to betray Sister's plans. She was willing to allow civil unrest and risk a kingdom-ending conflict to spark to attempt to spare my image. I could not allow her." She look at me, and she's wearing that same stone expression I've been wearing the last few minutes. She would probably be bawling at the memory if she hadn't trained herself to uncouple from her emotions like that. I'm not really sure what to say to that, either. Pity is a common reaction, but we both know that would be just vain words.

"... So you sacrificed yourself until you could be cured, and Princess Celestia was forced to say she did it which gained public stability instead of civil war." I put some pieces together, and I get a small nod from her.

"We are straying from the main point of discussion." She uprights herself again, and she turns to a guard nearby who approaches without the need for a signal. Wordlessly, he reaches into a slot in the chest of his platemail, and tugs away a hoof-sized amulet with an Opal slotted into it, and it's faintly glowing white. I take it, and Luna nods for me to put it on. I tie it off and slip it over my head, and it rests flatly against my chest. It doesn't have a noticeable effect, but I do get a strange sense of familiarity from the jewel, like it's a part of myself from years ago.

"A soulgem," Luna says simply.

WHAT!?

I rip the amulet off and jump away from it, my eyes wide and my breathing sharp and sudden. What in Equestria is she trying to do to me, and how does she have a soulgem from ME!? She doesn't react immediately, but she gives me a minute to catch my breath before explaining.

"It is not a necromantic abomination as you fear it to be, it is a set of instructions on the assembly and nuance of your body and mind, allowing for resurrection. It requires evocation magic only Sister and I know, or are even capable of. With this, should anything happen," She pauses for a moment, and I can tell she's chiding herself for her choice of words. "I will be able to restore you within the hour. Purely precautionary. As I stated previously, I have the utmost confidence the pegasus shall pose you no threat."

A build-your-own-Twilight instruction manual? There's at least half a dozen problems I have with that, no less than three existential and morally challenging, but after I've calmed down I look at it again, and she nudges it towards me. She probably expected me to act that way, given what the history books say about the charms the Zebras used in the war.

The guard quickly trots back to his station, and I'm left to poke at the medallion, necklace, soulgem thingy. It doesn't react much, but when I make contact that feeling of familiarity comes back.

"Does it... Update?" I'm finding it difficult to find the words to describe its' function.

"Nay, not in realtime. It requires manual input, which I will conduct when you are ready. This gem is from before you left Canterlot, many years outdated."

I try not to think about how they got an instruction manual on reconstructing my DNA when I was still an adolescent, instead focusing on the glowing gem socketed inside. 'That's me,' I mutter internally. I know this goes down a dark path if I think too much about it, so instead I decide it's time to rip off the band aid. I slip it back on, and try not to think about what would happen were she to accidentally restore me to before I came to Ponyville.

"Would I retain my memories? If you were to... Use this?" I ask as she lights up her horn. Her hesitation before an answer makes me more than a little anxious.

"Not after the update to your restoration point, no." She says, giving me a moment to come to terms with that possibility. The idea of losing memories or potentially some small piece of myself is scary, but identity scruples aside it's preferable to death. I nod, and she begins weaving a spell from some foreign branch of magic. I feel a slight tingling sensation, and looking down I can see that my fur is standing on edge, as if there were a static charge coursing through me, and I'm shedding a dim white glow similar to the Opal dangling from my neck. It's not entirely unpleasant, but knowing that my DNA is being sequenced for later reconstruction kind of sucks away my desire to watch. So instead I close my eyes, and try to think of something else.

Rarity and I were supposed to spend the afternoon with Aloe and Lotus, to celebrate their second spa opening next year. I have to remember to apologize for bailing on them. I'm sure they understand, but I still feel bad that I hadn't even thought about it until now. Pinkie was going to throw them a surprise party, too. Well, a second surprise party. 'Nopony expects two surprise parties, that's what makes it a surprise!'

I wonder what the girls are all up to, now that I think about it. They must be worried, given they were told I wasn't allowed to have any visitors. Maybe Luna gave them some cover-up? I don't even know how to address it if she did, what could I even tell them? Lying isn't my strong suit, but I've already dug myself into a hole by implicating myself in all of this. Maybe Spike was right, I could have been better off leaving this to Luna.

'WERE WE TO BE IN CONTROL SHE WOULD NEVER HAVE KNOWN, AND SCORES OF THESE SO-CALLED PONIES WOULD BE WITHOUT BREATH!'

...Or maybe it really is for the best that I intervene. I don't really know right now, but I'll have plenty of time to organize these thoughts after I hear whatever this Goldfish pegasus has to say. I don't have to wait long, though, as Luna finishes up her spell and I feel that static tingle fade away. My amulet is shining brighter than when I first put it on, I can only infer it's because of the increase in data it has to hold for current-me as opposed to 17-me fresh out of Canterlot.

As the magic fades I'm not sure what else there's left to do besides addressing the black hole in the room.

"So, I just walk in and talk to her, no plan or anything? I assume your silencing wards are one-way so that you can listen in, is there anything else I need to know?"

Luna stands and begins to walk towards the large opaque dome in the middle of the field, containing the Pegasus responsible for all of this. I follow, taking deep breaths to prepare.

"Nay, we shall lift the graviturgy and fae dust enchantments now, though she may be groggy for a moment. Sleep enchantments maintained over long periods have strong sedative effects that tend to linger." Luna nods to a guard across from us, and he and another unicorn mare work in tandem to begin unraveling several layers of the colossal magical construction before us. The mare siphoning magic away, and the colt adjusting more buttons and knobs in a flurry of hoof dexterity that I can't help but be entranced by.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Spike asks, placing a hand on my back. It's a nice gesture, but we both know that's not a great idea. I shake my head but give him a half-baked smile. Thankfully he doesn't protest, instead opting to slowly trod back to the open canopy and sit back down on one of the pillows, closing his eyes and leaning forward to rest his forehead against his fist.

I look up at Luna, and she gives me a small nod before stepping aside. Now it's just a giant wall of shimmering opaque darkness between me and Goldfish, blocking all light and sound from her. 'She won't even know what day it is', I realize, but quickly push the thought away. I'm already psy-op'ing myself into pitying her. I would normally want to believe she's a good pony who didn't choose this, a good mare who was the victim of some convoluted circumstance, but the day's many revelations have left my optimism levels critically low, and my empathy capability trailing close behind. Whatever she's playing at, whatever she feels so strongly she can say to only me, I'll have to judge on its' own merit without my usual positive lens. With one last deep breath, I raise my head and decide it's time to stop stalling.

I walk confidently into the void.

7 - The Chronomancer

THE CHRONOMANCER

Pay attention, Goldfish, I shall not repeat myself.

Some say time is a pony-created construct. I beg to both challenge and reaffirm that very notion. Ponies, you see, constructed no such thing, but the universe's behavior has always intrinsically lacked sufficient identifiers in which to describe the transformation of three-dimensional objects. As such, a necessity for a higher principle was born, a concept that matter would only transform, grow, decay, or change if given time to do so, an additional axis to the development of states of matter. In a purely three-dimensional space, there is no experience save for the present, as such a dimension cannot know change. Conversely, in a four-dimensional space there is only the near future and recent past, the idea of a 'present' being something no organic consciousness has the capability to truly behold.

We live in a four-dimensional space. A four-dimensional world, a four-dimensional kingdom, with four-dimensional clueless denizens and a four-faced four-dimensional empress operating for self-interest under the guise of a princess of her subjects. A Dictator who wields the capability to control not only the three dimensions her subjects live in, but who seeks to master the fourth so as to assert absolute, unquestionable power. The ability to foresee disasters, circumvent coups, re-attempt any diplomatic meeting, take millenia-long vacations on a whim all of which would take no time at all in relation to the alpha timeline in which we all currently inhabit.

Alpha timeline. Remember that term, it will be important in a moment. For now, we must move on from the present. If you've been paying attention, you should be able to tell me what that means.

Consciousness returns to me by my will, the cold packed stone of a long-abandoned wine cellar greets my hooves, and the collapsed roof of the hut it belonged to let in just enough light to see by. The small dark green pegasus mare across from me blinks exactly once, before stumbling and failing to right herself with her wings in time. She falls forward and threatens to crash nose-first into the floor, but as a courtesy to my new devout follower I ignite my horn with a heavily modified Feather Falling spell: Power delay, exponential growth, t constant scaling from 0.1 backwards to roughly -0.7, with a timeout command after 2.4 seconds, rounded for simplicity.

As she's about to slam nose-first into the floor, her velocity is suddenly cut into a tenth, and quickly the remaining forward momentum is transformed into potential energy in the other direction. That potential energy is fed through the spell and begins magnifying itself, for every moment that passes it is able to convert a slightly larger amount of the now quantumly-locked energy into kinetic energy as she flows backwards through time. After about 1.5 seconds she's falling upwards at an equal rate to which she fell, and at 2.4 she's nearly upright as the spell fades, leaving its' siphoned momentum with her. It's just enough to right her, without a newton of force left in excess.

"Are we still in the Alpha Timeline?" I ask, giving her no time to contemplate any of what just happened. If she is to be of use, she must be able to think quickly and deduce under pressure.

"Yes." She responds, her body releasing the breath of air she'd attempted to exhale before it was rewound back into her lungs.

"Explain."

She takes about half a second to focus her eyes on me, and there's a small twitch of her wings as she attempts to summon some source of stored knowledge in her mind to the surface.

"Your theory of Major Timeline Continuity suggests that any timeline sufficiently different enough from the Alpha would crumble without a perpetually-charged Chrono-anchor to bind it to the Alpha. Since we entered this room, you've cast only silence wards, a custom-modified meditation spell with aspects of Astral Projection and what I can only assume is Chronomancy, as well as a zone of truth, though I wasn't meant to see that one between layers 7 and 8 of your spell. Unless that in itself was also a test, which I don't have any way of knowing."

I stoke my beard thoughtfully. It wasn't a test, I cast it every indoctrination, but it was an excellent observation to notice the circle amidst my ritual which did not belong. This mare shows promise. Perhaps I could use it as a test, now that I think about it.

"Explain how you just told a lie in a zone of truth," I continue, a judgemental thousand-yard stare piercing into her as she looks puzzled for a moment, but immediately she begins thinking. I'll allow her no more than thirty seconds. If she can't figure it out within thirty seconds, she'll be too slow in the field. Impressively, she only needs twenty.

"We're not in the Alpha timeline. A Zone of Truth isn't a ward of divination, and so it only limits the subjects' responses to what it believes and perceives to be true. I believed we were in the Alpha Timeline, so I was able to say so."

For the first time in about eight months, I allow a small grin a moment on my face. She is capable of becoming a devotee, at least intellectually. There still remain many trials and tests of character, but the great filter has been passed.

"That is correct, while my spell does allow us to communicate for prolonged periods in an instant, it is not through instantaneous transference of knowledge, it is through this." I motion vaguely around us with a forehoof, and she seems to have already pieced the nature of my spell together. "What you experienced prior to what seemed as though you were waking up was shared consciousness. We came to understand each others' immediate thought processes, which I have primed prior to every departure for that purpose."

This is the part a lot of devotees have trouble grasping, and this pegasus seems no different. The idea of shared consciousness isn't precisely what happens during the phase shift between timelines, but it has the highest success rate with being understood, and so a little white lie keeps things moving.

She puts a contemplative hoof under her chin, and stares past me for a few moments longer. "We have infinite time because once we're done here, you'll send us back to the Alpha timeline. It's not possible to instantly do anything in an Alpha timeline without traversing to a parallel timeline to do it. That's the fourth dimension of Chronomancy, the ability to traverse timelines across anchors?" She asks, slightly less confident this time. Which is to be expected, as this isn't spellcraft her or her world have ever seen to my knowledge. Her guess is close, but just misses the mark.

"I will sever this divergent timeline from the Alpha, and send our consciousness back entirely. It's much more energy efficient and with less risk of complication than attempting to reassemble the data of two full ponies across timelines." It's my bread-and-butter solution for the possibility of an assassination or incursion under the guise of a devoted believer in my magic. If a pony tries to kill me here, it doesn't affect the Alpha timeline, and because I don't immediately gain the knowledge of the entire encounter after casting the spell, I know I can't trust them since I never make it out. "The complete and total control of Time in an Alpha timeline is indeed impossible, at least in a world with a rational set of laws governing it. That isn't to say you can't bypass it, though. For example," I light my horn and weave a spell I've cast thousands of times over hundreds of years, Delay. As I do, from my perspective absolutely nothing seems to happen, but the pegasus looks like she's recovering from witnessing a miracle. While nothing has changed from my perspective, I simply blinked out of existence for about ten seconds relative to the speed she's experiencing this timeline.

"This is the potential of my field of study, you see. To set a temporal ambush, to never wait, to never sleep, to have all the time in the world to learn all there is to know. The selfish purpose of Chronomancy, a selfishness I wish for us all." I wait patiently for her to commit the display to memory, and I'm certain she'll have come up with half a dozen applications for being able to jump forward in time by the time we're on our way back.

"When you imply there is no such thing as total control over an Alpha timeline, are you meaning to say you can't travel backwards in that timeline?"

I nod. "Not only is it impossible in the Alpha timeline, it is impossible altogether. The only means of traversing backwards through time is through the use of premade anchor points, streaming your consciousness backwards, which results in diverging Alpha timelines. Utilizing such magic comes with many risks to the fabric of spacetime itself, as having multiple Alpha timelines strains the veil between the infinite possibilities the universe may have. Without proper handling and preening, it would cause the collapse of the fourth dimension altogether."

Her eyes go wide at that, and she ponders the implications of something so drastic.

"Time would just stop? How is that-" She cuts herself off, shaking her head. "Sorry, I have the information to figure that out. More of a reaction than a question, I'm sure you get it." She nods the small apology, but furrows her brows and casts her gaze downwards nonetheless, truly taking in the possibility of a universe in which time is no longer a factor, and everything just stops. It's a terrifying prospect, but one she and all of my followers must come to terms with sooner rather than later.

While I understand her desire to come to terms with it this very moment, it's something she'll have to do on her own time. I have an operation in Ponyville to plan over the next two months that I would prefer to not have to make another trip across timelines to sleep for. I dispel the Zone of Truth while she's lost in thought, and clear my throat.

"Are you willing to obey my every command without hesitation or question?" I ask.

"Yes."

"Would you be willing to kill a creature I instructed you to without hesitation, if you understood it to be necessary?"

"Yes."

"What if it were not necessary?"

She doesn't respond. She stares at me with a calculatedly level look, attempting to see if this is a test of morality or a test of faith. While I understand the merits of either answer in this scenario, it's neither. It's a test of honesty that a zone of truth could never facilitate. Honesty not to me, but to herself.

"...I have no appropriate response." She settles with, and her head lowers a bit at the end as if she's afraid the answer will be insufficient.

"If Dear Friend informed you that he had a plan to kill me, with or without good reason, would you kill him to stop it if that's what it took?"

That stabs her in the heart, but then again that is the intention. The tan earth pony was the one to scout her for the organization, or so he says. In truth, I'm aware they've known each other since they were young. He's likely the only pony she's willing to trust with her life, besides perhaps me when all is said and done. Beyond that, I have no insight, which is why we are here.

Her heart is beating faster, and her breaths are forced and deep, imagining the act of ending her best friend's life in any multitude of ways.

"I require an answer." I pressure. I know what she's going to say already, but I press her more so to spare us both the drama of her internal turmoil.

"...yes." she whispers, staring at the floor, looking beyond disgusted with herself.

"Explain to me how you just told a lie in a zone of truth." I prompt the same question, again.

She blinks, looking up to me then shaking her head vigorously. "I didn't lie."

I continue to stare at her knowingly, and she senses that there's a trick somewhere. She's about to double down on her claim, but her mouth hangs open in silence when the realization hits that she's no longer under any enchantments.

"... I see... So now you'll recast the ward, have me answer again, and see if my responses differ. If they do..." Her expression softens from the troubled confusion into a soft smile, of all things. She looks back up to me with a genuine respect, and bows her head.

"I would not kill Dear Friend under any circumstance." She concludes in an even, respectful voice. "And I'm proud that I'm not capable of betraying that same trust he has for me." She keeps her head bowed down low, and I believe she's waiting for some sort of judgement for what she believes is a wrong answer. She couldn't be further from the truth.

"If you were capable of betraying Dear Friend, you would almost certainly be capable of attempting to betray me. I cannot promise orders such as that will never come, but I will leave you the assurance such decisions will never be made without that ponies consent. Followers of mine perish in the pursuit of a greater good frequently, by no fault of their own, even when they've done everything right. That's the world we live in, Goldfish. The world I'm attempting to abolish, slowly but surely." I've never been one to soothe the minds of other ponies, but over the centuries my sense of empathy has grown at least enough to understand this mare's point of reference. It's all true, too, which helps. The age-old phrase 'I'd rather a thief over a liar' is particularly apt in that regard. A thief will attempt to steal from you, you can prepare for and expect that. A liar, however? You never know what a liar will do.

She raises her head and sizes me up, surprised but curious. Clearly I exceeded some expectation of hers, perhaps she was told that I was a heartless calculating monster who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals. Perhaps I am, but also perhaps not, and unfortunately for her she won't be able to divine such information with a wayward glance.

"We will realign precisely at the moment we deviated from the Alpha. Prepare yourself, I shall not right you a second time." I warn, and begin weaving the spell to send us home. She sits upright, looking lost in her thoughts. She looks like she's about to start tearing up, but that is no concern nor business of mine. She's proven all I require of her, and this time next sun she'll have her first mission.

Sunflowers face east in the morning and follow the sun's path through the sky throughout the day due to the fact that during their younger growing stages they require more sunlight than their adult variants, which tend to face only one static direction. Berry Spirit was a culinary genius who accumulated 2,332 patents across Equestria for his signature artificial flavoring recipes. O negative are universal donors, AB+ are universal recipients. The fall of the Zebra empire was due to its' inability to maintain supply lines during the Zebra-Equestrian war. Purely through logistical outmaneuvering by commander Flanking Maneuver, Equestria gained many advancements in charm and hex magic from the now-demilitarized country and maintain a harsh import tax to this day. Love: Page 357 of the Mare Webster's revised dictionary, defined as-

Shut up.

The flurry of information my mind offers up to me immediately brings on a migraine, but I'm used to that. I haven't not had a migraine since I was a filly. From the moment I wake up until the moment my brain finally fries itself out three days later and allows me blissful silence for three to four hours, I have a migraine. It's hell. I've tried everything. Therapy, self-help, hypnosis, drugs, hard drugs, nothing works. Morphine is about the only thing that kills off the flurry of incoherent factoids, formulae, and history for any period of time. The downside? I have hellish, vivid nightmares when I'm on the stuff, and it impairs my motor function. Sometimes it's almost worth it.

Right now, though, there's only one thing I need to remember, my directive. I have a mission to carry out, one final contribution to ponykind before I can finally be cured of my ailment. I attempt to bolt up into a sitting position to await my captors once more, but the chains around my waist, neck, flank, and all four hooves keep me shackled against the cold metal plate they're affixed to. Right, forgot about that. I sigh regretfully as I shake my wings against the inside of the metal casing chastising them, several broken joints and missing primaries sending a pitiful attempt at pain in response. My limbs aren't faring too much better, at least two of my hooves are broken, and my jaw feels like it's ready to fall off, but it's probably just dislocated. I tackled Twilight out of the air but cushioned her with my body, and I suffered a lot more damage than I'd hoped for in doing so. The directive was clear, though; No crippling nor mortal harm comes to Twilight Sparkle.

I'm glad for that, she's a good mare. She's done a lot for this kingdom, her brother even helped a work associate of mine in Saddle Arabia once, before he became Captain of the royal guard. Might have even saved her life, with how desperate some of the lesser ponies on the frontier can be. Violent crime resulting in homicide is less than one ten-thousandth of a percent (<0.0001%) of all crimes from the last documented century in Equestria, excluding that one outlier. Saddle Arabia had nearly a 0.8% homicide rate for all crimes including non-violent back then. It was further exacerbated by the P.U.S.H. declaration RL-144-

Shut up, somepony's here.

I can't see them, but I hear something, the sound of soft earth being disturbed underhoof. It's such an incredibly small, delicate sound, but whatever insane enchantments the Princess promised she'd put me under, she definitely didn't spare any expense with the Silencing wards. Though if my instructions are correct, which I'm told they always are, without exception, it's one-way. I need to be careful in what order I say which things, everything counts on it.

The soft noises stop, and I train my ears beyond my own body. It takes a moment, but I hear the slow, metered breaths of another pony. Based on the rate and angle from the ground where my head lies, it's a Mare, about 5'4. From that, I can assume her fur is lavender, she has a starburst cutie mark, and is probably very angry with me.

I wait for her to start the dialogue, she needs to be in control of this conversation. She needs to feel important.

"Are you awake?" She asks. I pause just for a microsecond. That is definitely Twilight Sparkle's voice, but it sounds like she's emotionally distant. Likely rationale infers an emotionally traumatic event, breakup, or mental fortitude training in preparation for an interrogation. Likely the first one, though whether I'm the source or not I have no way of knowing.

"Yes." I answer simply, and there's a few seconds of awkward silence.

"What... What did you want to say to me?" I see a small purple glow dancing around her horn, and a tiny point of lavender-colored light hovers in the air between us. It's eerie only being able to see each other and the ground, the rest of the light being sucked into the black vortex all around us, but at least we can see each other.

"Before that, if there's anything you want to know, you're going to want to ask first." I reply.

"And why would that be?" She raises a brow, an air of annoyance creeping into her voice. The telltale sign of a mare out of patience. Definitely something traumatic, seemingly not just me.

"Because after I give you my message, I'm going to die."

That kills the momentum entirely, and I can see a mixture of shivers running across her body, her mind kicking into overdrive trying to divine how and why, and there's almost a hint of concern before she catches herself. That's right, don't get attached to me. I'm the bad pony, don't feel bad.

"I don't understand what you mean. Care to explain?" She takes a step closer, looking me up and down. I shift the little bit the restraints afford me to hide the worst of my injuries, drawing her attention instead to my eyes as I lift my head.

"I mean exactly what I said. Due to circumstances beyond your control, in a few minutes' time I imagine I'm going to be dead."

"I mean, I heard that, I'm asking how. I can't even cast anything with more output than cantrips in a nullification field, and that's probably because they tuned it down for me since you're a Pegasus." She gets a little closer and presses a forehoof against the large metal panel affixed to the ground I'm chained to. It doesn't budge, and she gets just close enough to sit on the edge of it, barely a wingspan away.

"I can't answer that."

"Well, then what can you answer?" Her tone is still a bit frustrated, but there's an undertone of fear in there I'm not used to associating with the legendary little unicorn. Is it fear that she might be in the crossfire? I can address that.

"I can tell you that nopony on any side means you harm, at least not as you are now."

"Then why were you stalking me? Why leave me that note on the thermal reevaluation? And where did you even find it?"

Now we're getting back on track, I can work with this.

"My partner and I were assigned to keep overwatch on you, without intervening or giving away ourselves until our last encounter. We were meant to destroy evidence of tampering first, but plans change. We've been in Ponyville for just shy of two months, the day after Lyra Heartstrings' birthday party. The note was to be left per instructions from The Timekeeper, I don't know how it's applied or where it's originally sourced from, I only have it memorized."

She goes a bit pale when I say we've been watching her for two months. Maybe I should have worked up to that, but it's way too far gone now. Hope that doesn't blow up.

We sit in silence for another ten seconds or so, and even though she's looking in my direction, she's staring straight through me, lost in thought somewhere. I know that look, actually. Maybe before the end, I'll let myself ask her something. Surely this isn't against the directive? I just feel a pull to this unicorn, some kind of desire to relate that's entirely foreign to me. Maybe she's somepony who understands, with how much she knows.

"Does it ever get to be too much? In your head?" I ask, unprompted. She shifts her eyes to mine, and she seems confused. "All the information, all the knowledge. Does any of it ever come back up to haunt you? Were you ever able to turn it all off?"

She takes a sharp breath in and tilts her head, and she takes on several mannerisms indicative of concern. That tells me that no, she doesn't have this curse. She's been able to read to her heart's content and only remember things when she wants to. Oh sweet hardcovers she doesn't know how blessed she really is. I'd envy it if I had the desire to anymore. But that's just the sick humor of the universe, born with everything in my head, too stupid to know what it means, and nopony that knows what it's like.

"You're hurt-" she suddenly observes. Her light is floating all over my body, and I hadn't realized I'd let my form relax while I was lost in thought. I've blundered, haven't I? Maybe it's not hopeless, but it's going to be a lot harder to do this if she stops hating me. Please keep hating me, Twilight Sparkle, it'll make it easier for both of us.

"I'm fine, I barely feel it-"

"You have a displaced shoulder and jaw, I see broken ribs, and your hind hoof is bent at a ninety degree angle!" She exclaims, shaking her head, and she leans forward with a small purple aura dancing around her horn as she attempts to prepare a basic mending evocation.

"DON'T!" I yell out without thinking, pulling the half an inch away from her that I'm able. It works, though. She freezes mid-cast and stares at me in astonishment, trying to piece together if I'm a masochist, under duress, or just an idiot.

"I assaulted you. I'm one of your stalkers. You don't help somepony like that," I remind her, giving her a cool and level eye. She just keeps staring at me, before the spell fades away and she shakes her head.

"If you don't want me to heal you then I won't, and I don't forgive you for any of that, but... I don't think this is right, to make you suffer like this if you don't have to. Look, I've had a really, really bad day. Normally I’d have realized you were hurt immediately, but some stuff happened, and I'm, um... The truth is, I am upset with you, but I want to believe you're not just a crazy mare who stalked me for two months then hospitalized me for no good reason. I'm sorry for being short with you to begin with, that was wrong of me, but I want to know what's wrong with you, too."

I wince at the description of events, and I feel that familiar guilt for hurting her like that. This is Twilight Sparkle, huh? The pony who's banished Discord, redeemed Nightmare Moon, and become a student of 'friendship' magic. Before now, I would have said there's no such thing as friendship magic that wasn't woven into a charm spell, but now that she's sitting in front of me, offering to ease my suffering despite me being the one that caused her injuries that must have had her bedridden until the princess mended her... Showing genuine curiosity when I mentioned my plight, I can kind of see how so many ponies look up to her. Suddenly I completely understand why The Timekeeper is willing to risk so much for this mare. Maybe it's the comforting thoughts, maybe it's the fact that I've gotten more than ten times the amount of sleep today than I usually get in a month, but for the first time in my adult life I'm able to wade through the tempest in my mind a bit more clearly. For the first time, I can hear myself think. For the first time, I can enjoy the peace and quiet.

I don't know when, but at some point I failed to fight back my tears. I suck in a breath and look up to her, and she has a strange mixture of pity and understanding on her face. She looks around the dome at nothing, lost in thought while I try to recollect myself. Before long she's beside me, and I feel her press a small object against my chest.

"Hold still, this won't take too long. I don't think, at least..." She says. I don't bother to look up at her, and I just let her cast her magic. It feels like some kind of static, and it pokes around randomly at my body, making my fur stand on edge. She could be casting me into the depths of tartarus right now and I would still feel like I owed her the world, the serenity of the moment is that great. After a few minutes she's still casting, but I've managed to blink all the tears away from my eyes and get my breathing back to a controlled level.

I sure did blow it, though. The eleventh hour and I just had to make a fool of myself. I couldn't follow his instructions, I couldn't properly send his message, I couldn't even die right like I was supposed to. All that I put this poor mare through, and I couldn't even control my emotions to respect that.

"I'm sorry for the trouble we've put you through." I start, and my progress keeping my tears down begins to quickly come undone. "I'm sorry, you weren't supposed to get hurt, I just- We were supposed to let you catch one of us, but I, you couldn't- I couldn't let you catch Dear. It had to be me. That's why I tackled you, that's why this happened. I'm sorry, I'm s-" My voice sputters out, and I slink down into a shivering pile on the cold metal tile I'm anchored to while the unicorn beside me lays a hoof on my back and continues casting her magic. My wounds aren't any better, but the pain has subsided a small amount. She probably can't cast anything medical grade with the suppression field up, but she's trying and I appreciate that.

"Dear is the tan earth pony you were with, your partner?" She asks, her voice is a bit strained.

I nod. "Yeah, he's... He's just the best, you know? He's how I met Timekeeper. I don't know how he did it, but he's always had a knack for talking to anypony he wants to. Ponies just naturally love him, it's his gift."

"That sounds- agh, ow- like you two could have been happy without needing to do... whatever all of- Ouch!" The light fades for a moment as I feel her shift to rub at something on her face. "Sorry, without needing to do whatever all of this is about. Why go through all this trouble just to give me a message that's going to kill you?"

The serenity starts to slowly fade away, and I wonder how long it'll be before the migraine returns as I think about it.

"How many books do you think you've read, Twilight?" I ask. It catches her off guard, but she has a pre-prepared answer.

"Not counting re-reads and unpublished or case study documents, in the realm of 3,400 ranging from 100 to 600 pages, not including outliers."

"I've read 39,010, mean length of 187.31 pages. 'The' accounts for roughly 4.7% of all words, including unpublished findings as well as fiction. My first book was 'The Elegant Multiverse' when I was a year and a half old. I didn't understand what any of it meant, but I remembered every single word. My parents thought I was a prodigy, I could answer any quiz about any topic I'd ever read about. At least until they had me tested on unreferenced material, general intelligence. Can you guess how I did?"

Twilight didn't immediately respond, the sound of her labored breathing dominating the conversation for nearly a whole minute until she replied.

"You failed?"

"I bombed it. I was only able to answer a single question out of all 100, because it was an advanced calculus problem that a textbook I'd read through a month prior used as an example. I'm a catalogue, all I'm good for is regurgitating information and being a calculator. And to boot, I can't turn it off. All day, every day, I'm thinking incoherent strings of facts I can't even understand half the time. It's like a song in a language you don't know on repeat every single day. I'm so glad you don't have to deal with it, I wouldn't wish it on anypony." I spill my heart out to her, and by the time I'm done I'm just exhausted. I know I still have a job to do, but at this point I've gone so far off script that I'm unbothered by how long it takes us to get there. For some reason, I'm in no hurry to die right this moment.

Twilight doesn't respond, but that's fine. Just knowing that somepony else who gives a damn is beside me, knows what I'm going through, it's enough. I almost manage to convince myself it's Dear beside me.

I feel her start to sag beside me a bit, but before I can ask if something's wrong the soft pulse of magic that was dancing across my fur recedes, and I feel her pull the object away from my chest. I look over to see what it was, but she immediately falls onto her flank and cradles her head in her hooves, rubbing at her temples gently. I know the onset of a migraine when I see one.

"Aville's Cure-All, the sooner you cast it the lighter it'll be. I can recite the matrix, if you need," I offer, but she shakes her head.

"No, that's alright, I know it. I just don't think I have it in me to force out any more magic in here. Thanks, though."

"Mm." I mutter, turning to face forward again. We both sit there in silence for another couple of minutes. I don't have anything else to say, and she doesn't have anything left to ask.

'It's time to do it, I guess.' I think as I close my eyes, making peace with my decisions up to this point. If nothing else, I'm glad I got to share this moment with her. Maybe in another life she could have saved me from this awful curse in my head, maybe she could have been the one to meet the Timekeeper herself in the first place. But conjecture and fantasy won't help either of us here, there's a bullet and I've got to bite it.

"Twilight, I do have to give you the message." I say casually, lifting my head to look at her. She doesn't want to, but she looks back to me with pain in her eyes.

"I don't want to hear it. I could just leave, then-"

"Then I'd die for nothing."

She keeps staring at me as if she could divine the outcome she wants out of this, but there's far too many moving parts, too many powerful ponies in play. At least she'll come to know the truth of Equestria soon, it's the least I can do to help her on her path.

"I know how this is going to sound, but I need you to do something for me first. I need you to sit next to me, and I need you to scream, as loud as you can."

She looks taken aback, as if she's not entirely certain if she heard me right.

"You want me... To scream? Right next to you?" She confirms, scooting unsteadily towards me.

I nod, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, and before you do, promise me you'll close your eyes and keep them closed, until I'm dead. I... Don't want you to see."

That really unsettles her. She squirms around a bit and itches her forehooves with each other, searching frantically for any possible way to postpone.

"Please, Twilight." I ask, begging her cooperation.

"...Okay. I, uh... Sorry for your ears, Goldfish." I chuckle as she takes a few practice breaths, expanding her lungs and emptying them completely. With one last large inhale, she starts yelling like the town is on fire.

'I'm on the clock now,' I think, and I struggle to lift my face as close to her screaming head as the chains allow, and I speak just loudly enough that only she could possibly hear me over the sound of her voice.

"When you stop screaming is when I'll die. The Timekeeper is right here at this location with us, he's just not at this time yet. As soon as the mana inhibitor hexes and magic nullification wards are dropped, his spell will find purchase and complete. When the Timekeeper appears, he'll open a portal for only a second. If you want to know the truth about Equestria, the potential of chronomancy, go with him. Otherwise, stay here and he'll never contact you again." I stop stretching my neck, and let my tired head fall onto my forehooves. My mission is complete, all that's left is to allow myself to be severed like the loose end I am.

Twilight doesn't stop yelling, though. She keeps forcing out the long outcry for as long as she can, trying to make it last forever. It's a noble motivation, but she could stop right now and it really wouldn't make a difference.

And in an instant, the black dome that had been suppressing all light and sound from the outside blinks away, and a dozen layers of powerful warding magic are waved aside with a flick from Luna's horn as she charges towards us from a canopy barely thirty yards away. In the moment the wards dropped, a slight shimmer began to apparate just in front of Twilight, who had her eyes closed as promised. Within fractions of a second the spell clicked, the inhibitors gone, and the Timekeeper took full form before both of us. A tall, gray unicorn with a long white beard and hair, dressed in cosmically-adorned blue robes. He quickly raised a hoof to Twilight's mouth to silence her. When she opened her eyes, I could make out a massively conflicted war of fear, realization, and panic taking form on her face. She recognized him, surely, he even went to the trouble of wearing his old clothing.

"Come Twilight, with haste!" He commands with the hasty casting of a contingency spell underway. Within moments a small portal popped into existence in front of them, and she sat stock still starting at it, frozen in place.

'She's not going to go through, he's going to leave her behind!' I realize. Star Swirl raises a hoof against my forehead and prepares muttering a swift spell that I'm prepared for, but before I go I reach a hoof out and I'm just barely able to make contact with Twilight's hind hoof. She snaps out of her panic just long enough to look down at me, and seeing her pained expression creates a pit in my stomach. I grin past it, and give her a nod.

'Go!' I silently yell at her.

I see her raise a forehoof and turn towards the portal hesitantly. I think she's about to start moving when the Timekeeper's euthanatos spell completes, vaporizing some small part of my brain, and I never get to see if she takes the leap.

Author's Note

The 'Euthanatos' spell is taken (with love) from Hard Reset 2: Reset Harder.

8 - A Pragmatic Philosophy

A PRAGMATIC PHILOSOPHY

There's a long buildup of mana in my horn, threatening to overflow any moment. I'm casting it properly, I know that, and yet it's kicking and screaming back in my face. There's something interfering, some unknown quantity on an unseen plane sabotaging my progress, I know it, but I'm far too headstrong to let it kill this. I push forward, and the last drops of my wellspring fall to the wayside as I come up just short, unable to contain the catastrophic failure of the spell as it explodes from the tip of my horn, taking the wind from me and slamming me against the ornately-crafted infused walls of my testing chamber. I knock my head against the bricks, and consciousness threatens to leave me as my body reels from the spectacular ranges of pain I'm suddenly experiencing.

I need a moment after that last one.

The residual pain from the Return spell's rather explosive failure is still receding from my horn, and I pumped at least four Vis of mana into that matrix; I'm going to be bone dry for at least twelve hours. Anchored to the Alpha or not, doesn't matter. I haven't been able to produce even a micron of evidence to suggest that Chronomancy is possible in any way but as a glorified time-skip. How many other schools of magic could I have founded in the three years I've been at this? Half a dozen easily, maybe more. And I know what you're thinking, that's an arrogant statement to make, but is it hubris if I'm right?

"From the failure whence I came, here I lay unabashed..." The magical feedback is charging around my skull and through my beard like a telepathic static charge, jumbling my thoughts and forcing me to remain seated in the midst of my scattered and ruined magic circle as I mumble the quiet mantra to myself.

I've made progress, if you can call it that. I've managed micro-hops forward in time, I've even observed desynchronization by use of mechanical timekeeping apparatus. While affixed to myself prior to undergoing a Delay spell (My working title for jumping forward through time,) the hoof-worn timepiece will retain the same state post-spell as it did previous, with a margin of about three to ten seconds of difference which I chalk up to my inexperience honing my reintegration into the timeline, but that will come with time. I'm really wearing that word out these days.

The reason this matters, though, is it means that when a creature travels forward in time they're not just sitting still, or in a statis, or transposed into another state of being. It means they literally cease to exist, dimensionally speaking, until they reintegrate into the timeline. While that has a finite limit dependant on the wellspring of the unicorn casting the spell, it could spell potential ways of cheating the many laws of spellcraft, chief among them being the possibility of suspending matter outside of existence instead of creating or destroying it. Truthfully it's just as good as destroying matter in the short term, and with the added benefit that inorganic material doesn't require delicate reconstruction and thus is incredibly energy efficient with how easily it can be manipulated forward in time. While I can barely manage to bring myself forward an hour, I could send a loaf of fresh bread a month forward with the same energy and it would still be piping hot. A letter could be sent years forward, the only thing keeping me from sending a single grain of sand into effectively limbo is my lack of patience to observe its' upper limit. If I could refine my spellcraft to be even more energy efficient, to somehow relay redundant parts of the spell into cycling the power back into itself, it's not out of the question to think it's possible to send entire hordes of ponies days, maybe even a week ahead! The possibilities are quite literally endless, as are the applications.

Unfortunately, the applications are only as useful as the solutions to its' obvious problem; Rewinding isn't an option, and the ways in which manipulating an object through time affects the caster. Or, more specifically, how it does not. If I were to send a fresh loaf of baked bread one week into the future, when it arrived there it would still be steaming, the exact atomic makeup, the exact state of matter, everything perfectly maintained about it. The only way to send something forward in time while changing it is to specifically take parts of it during the spellweaving and blacklist it from the spell. You could, in theory for example, send a pony forward in time but not with the cancerous growths on their liver, or conversely without their head.

To summarize, I've discovered you can move only forward in time, without changing the state of the matter you're sending, and only as far forward as your wellspring allows. There's a way to return backwards through time, I know there is, but the implications of its' nature are... Disturbing and rigid. Using temporal anchoring points, you can experience alternate branching timelines post-casting and return to the Alpha through... severing your consciousness from the life stream, to put it gently. There are a multitude of easy ways to do this, including cranial euthanatos, casting a recursive Gravitas spell in an enclosed space and jumping into the anomaly summoned therein, jumping off a very high object without a parachute, you get the idea.

"... Let's try this one more time." It's been long enough, I'm ready to see reason and seek the guidance I'm sure that I need. It's what Luna would recommend if she were here. But she's not here, because Celestia banished her to the bucking moon. Sorry, I'm still grappling my feelings on that, I probably will be for a long time. That, and there's a corner of my mind considering that I may not be considering this carefully enough, that my mind is injecting an element of demise into my theoretical spellcraft as a coping mechanism. Self destructive tendencies, as a former colleague had put it. While the Princess is hardly my therapist, she likely wouldn't allow me to pursue a school of magic that quite literally involves suicide as a triggering mechanic unless it was truly grounded in reality. Despite what I've come to think of her, even her dubious plans-within-plans persona of absolute reason does so within the bounds of some personal sense of morality.

I force down a mouthful of pent-up aggression, and it's as bitter going back down as it was welling up.

I'll talk to her, but that doesn't mean I'm going to like it.

--

"For the last time sir, if you wish an audience with-

"And I'm telling you, metal-for-brains, you don't know your Everfree royal insignia from your branchwurm-infested hindlegs! Now step aside before I broil your thick excuse for a mind into miasma broth and serve it to the gargoyles!" I fume, staring sheer, unfiltered death at the stallion between me and Celestia's chambers. I could do it too, incredibly easily. Most of the royal guard in this day and age haven't seen combat past the drunken brawlers of Mare Inette's regulars, they wouldn't stand a chance against a unicorn with proper battle training.

Thankfully, the door opens before either of us begin itching to really test who would prevail in a fight to the death. Just beyond the threshold I see the stoic face of the princess of the Everfree, staring at both the set of guards on either side of the door and myself. There's an undertone of annoyance, but I can't be bothered to psychoanalyze.

"It's quite alright, gentlecolts, Star Swirl is permitted to be here. He is an... Exception to standard procedure. Please stand aside."

They stand aside, obeying their master like the good little ponies they're trained to be. If only they did so before wasting my valuable time. I pass the two of them, crossing the threshold into Celestia's private chambers, closing the door with a subconscious telekinetic shove behind me.

It's dark in here. Though the sun's been down for several hours, the light of the moon was more than enough to see by in the halls. I'm not stranger to dimly lit rooms, but chipping a hoof on a world leader's nightstand isn't high on my bucket list.

"Excuse me, if you would-" I mutter, pausing my advance into the room to summon forth a dancing light from my horn, providing some dim illumination to the place. I immediately wish I hadn't, it looks as if it's been ransacked; Her study has been smashed as if caved in by a rampaging mountain troll, with books and scrolls strewn about the floor surrounding the bed, some neatly stacked and others flung haphazardly against any of the four walls. Lifting a forehoof, I see I'm standing on a large scroll detailing a century-outdated theory of tabula rasa.

"Sweet moon's starlight..." I whisper, taking a deep breath as I process the chaos of the room. It doesn't go unrecognized, as Celestia stops walking across the tragedy to turn her head over her shoulder and call back to me.

"Apologies, I haven't the time nor desire to put everything away as of late, I'm sure you can understand the lack of time a monarch has." Though she says it in a level tone, there's a certain bitterness behind the sentiment. We stare at each other for a moment, and I feel as if I'm failing to divine meaning where I ought to be. Just as good, though, because I'm bitter at her for what I can assume to be similar reasons. If nothing else, we can bond over our bitterness in the scant minutes I plan to intrude.

She turns away and walks out onto the balcony, the only place where I can see more than a few square inches of floor. I decide rather than trying not to tear priceless scrolls as I traverse the treacherous floor I should just teleport instead, and I land softly beside Celestia on the cold stone. She doesn't pay the anomaly any mind though, she's busy staring up at the waning moon as it slowly crawls through the night sky. I follow her gaze, and I take a moment to take in the visage of the night imprinted on the celestial body. Regal, but repentant, head tilted down as if in prayer to some higher power. Surely how it's meant to be portrayed, but it's not a topic I brooch with her. We both know what flimsy working respect we have for one another wouldn't survive the strain of the conversation, and it wouldn't serve any higher purpose past a shouting match she's had with others on public platforms dozens of times in the last couple years.

Perhaps it's more that I realize it wouldn't serve any higher purpose and she simply doesn't see any reason to bring it up, as even an apprentice to the Archemage position holds nearly no political sway in comparison to the now single monarch of the Everfree. She has very little reason to butter me up, and judging by the lack of proximity in which we work with one another it seems she has no intent to either, which suits me just fine.

"What seems to be troubling you, Star Swirl? Speak freely here." She speaks softly, but doesn't lower her gaze from the moon. I find it hard to look away too, but for very different reasons. And so I stand beside her while she sits, both our heads skyward.

"I've hit a standstill with my research. I take it you're versed in Chronomancy as well? I have a potential clue on ways to return to the past, but only through anchor points, and the only way to do so requires severing your consciousness from the beta timeline it develops. Candidly-"

"Suicide as a means of sending yourself back to your Origin Point," she breathes, and there's a dry scoff as she either recites the information or parses it. In typical Celestia fashion, I can't tell if she already knew it was possible or not. I wait patiently for her to continue her thought, but she takes a deep breath and looks down to me, instead seemingly waiting for me to elaborate.

"Simply put, yes. Anypony whom anchors themselves to a point in time will have their consciousness sent back to the point of origin of the beta timeline when their consciousness is severed, effectively giving them knowledge of every life they've ever had in the loop in an instant. I use the term loop because this spell has the potential to be recursive, if allowed to be. I haven't dared to cast it, and I fear for my sanity were I to do so."

I still haven't exactly posed a question in all of this, but the moral scruple is out in the open now. She keeps staring skyward, but I see her eyelids narrow ever so slightly as her mind begins to churn. Some great plan being woven into creation? Or misdirection for the purpose of winning me as a pawn, perhaps?

"Star Swirl, you have a brilliant mind that could propel these ponies through the ages. I fear you are correct though, use of time looping aspects of Chronomancy have lead to the corruption of many minds in the past. It has been banned as a means of imprisonment, it allowed the worst of our societies to effectively 'live' for multiple life sentences in copulation with a complex system of cryptographs' ciphers given piecemeal at set years, few truly benefited from the option. I digress, though. You do not strike me as the kind of pony to shy from risk, so I shall not labor your mind with the fear of possibility." She finally brings her head down from the skies, but continues staring forward, over the small kingdom she'd build together with her sister. Despite the recent unrest and distrust in their governing bodies, everypony seemed to sleep just the same as before the coup. The street performers played and weaved songcraft just the same, mares were made into mothers just as before, and foals dreamed freely and unfiltered of promising futures for their friends and families. Even without Luna's watchful night vigil, life went on.

"You've told me to speak freely and I shall; I wouldn't have interrupted your hours of rest in the midst of my studies if I weren't interested in your qualms. I understand your system of mitigating risk to the public by metering the flow and development of information, and though I disagree I honor your code the same as I promised to with Luna. I presume I have the same leniency with you of self-publishing what I deem appropriate to my peers, but your input at this very moment could be pivotal in whether or not this branch of magic requires the torture of ponies' minds. If there is an alternate solution to this, I beseech you to speak it!" I'm speaking a bit too loudly at the end, but the point is made nonetheless. I stare at her, and she still has her blank slate of a face set to an unreadable null. "For Luna's sake would you at least look me in the eyes this time!?" I shout angrily. She won't give me an answer, she never does. Flattery, guilt, threats of suicide, it never affects her detached, calculated non-responses to my conundrum. Of course it wouldn't, she's employed all the same tactics for thousands of years. It's a game of cards and she's seen every hand before.

"How many?" She asks simply, continuing to stare forward.

I'm absolutely fuming, staring at the white untouchable alicorn in this game of chess for which I'm so beyond outclassed I can't even make the first move without a redo.

"This marks three dozen." I respond, averting my gaze. "What do you want from me, what precisely is it I need to do for you to propel this research? I know what you stand to gain, you know what you stand to gain. Even were it just me to anchor myself and guide the development of magic for the next century, we could propel ourselves into an age of prosperity, an era of enlightenment! I don't understand your hesitation to cultivate this possibility on the grounds of an ethic you've self-imposed for some supposed idealistic sense of-"

"You will be silent!" She stomps a bare hoof into the stone, and the entire castle seems to quake from the force as cracks spiderweb out from the impact. I'm momentarily undeterred, but out of what little respect for the crown I have I pause my angered rant. If for no other reason than for the first time in more loops than I can count, she's looking at me. There's anger, and her forehoof is shaking where she slammed into the stone, but she is looking at me, finally.

She taps her hoof onto the stone, and successfully draws my attention to it. At first I don't see anything save for the cracks running in several directions, but something catches my eye. A ghost of a shadow, a faded rune marking 'lunis' etched into the stonework. My brow furrows and before she can elaborate, I summon a dancing light between us to illuminate the balcony. Sure enough, there's more running off in a circle which she's sat in the very center of.

"A transpositional teleportation matrix, multi-layered, and self-etched. Is this...?" I trail off, and whip my head up to meet her gaze. She stares back, with equal intensity.

"Excellent, it seems you have some good sense in you yet, to not have engaged a crusade after nearly three years without all the facts. There yet remains hope." She stands from the circle, and I'm able to get a good look at it. This is it, this is without a doubt where it happened, where Luna was banished. My fur begins to bristle.

"... The facts, not dissimilar to the fact that you have, etched in literal stone on your balcony, the spell that stole you a kingdom with? The facts that pervade this country wherein the Great Betrayer was slain and our almighty, all-perfect goddess yet graces us with nary a scratch, not a day later with no more than a showpony's display of remorse for her actions?" The words are dripping with venom, and I come to the realization that I've thrown this loop away, it now serves no purpose other than to allow me to vent. It's becoming apparent that I won't get any information out of her either, whether because she somehow knows this isn't the first time we've had this conversation or her stubborn adhesion to her code I don't know.

"You'll crack somehow, I just need to find the right words." I sneer, before hopping up onto the balcony railings, teetering precariously on three hooves. She looks back at the moon, but I'm level with her from this height and I'm finally able to interject myself into her line of sight. I step in front of her, nearly pressing my nose to hers. "Say what you will to yourself, but I won't allow you the satisfaction of poisoning my mind with your half-truths and unfulfilled promises. You will be held accountable for this." I stare into her eyes, but she's just staring through me as if I weren't even there.

Enough self-indulgence, I need to get back to work. I feel a rising gust picking up, and I lean backwards into it until a hind hoof is carried over the edge, and I begin to fall. There's a split second of vertigo as my body rebels against my suicidal impulse, but it's stunted as a golden aura of absolute kinetic stillness envelopes me.

"We're going to play this game? Wonderful, I've been meaning to tes-"

"Luna banished herself. Surely I've told you this before, likely in your first loop. You need to let this rest, you will find no fuel for your conspiracy-fuelled tangent. And when you don't, you will succumb to madness as you fear." She talks out into the open air, as if addressing the moon itself. For a moment I'm taken aback, but I know better than to let her words overtake me. I won't become another thrall to her ambitions, not so easily. I'll burn her empire to the ground if I have to, even if-

The golden aura blinks out of existence, and the rising winds carry me over the edge of the balcony and tumbling down the elevated hill below. Mercifully, by the time I roll all the way down to the bottom of it I've cast a powerful aphroditic to mask the mortal pain to follow, and I'm left a moment or two to simmer in my spite as I bleed out on the edge of the royal garden beneath Celestia's tower, staining the ground of her sunflower bed a crimson red. I hope this timeline persists after I'm gone, I would love nothing more than for this iteration of Celestia to be forced to live on. The idea amplifies the fluttery feeling rising in my stomach, and I get a wicked idea for an incantation.

My horn glows a light azure, similar to my Luna's, and I mutter a passcode to Tartarus. It's a close time limit as my body begins growing cold, but within seconds I see Celestia's balcony explode in golden light as she rockets off into the sky overhead, probably towards the Tantabus I've just unleashed into the city. That should be a sufficient enough alteration to the timeline for it to stick around. What a wonderful idea, that felt truly cathartic...

But all too suddenly the blissful feeling of satisfaction and artificial euphoria ebbs into nothing, and I feel a sudden painful blast carrying me off my hooves, leading to a familiar pain as I knock my head against the stone walls of my testing chamber. I slump down onto the floor, crawling back to the center of my broken magic circle.

"From the failure whence I came, here I lay unabashed..."

Life 37, I've got a good feeling about this one.

"I- I need a moment-" I stutter, a slew of emotions ranging from fear to confusion swirling around my mind as my fillyhood hero details the many temporal and gruesome mechanics of his spellcraft. It's overwhelming given the situation, and I just need him to give me a moment to process all of this.

We're in the Ponyville Library, of all places. There's no way that it's actually the library, I know that, but that doesn't need explanation. Through complex layers of illusion magic, he's created a small space in which I'm perceiving our surroundings as if it were home. It's likely meant to help me root myself quicker and avoid a sense of sensory overload after the jarring consecutive events that have been happening to me in tandem, not the least of which is being thrown across Celestia-knows-how-long portals to unknown pocket dimensions after witnessing my stalker being executed willingly by Star Swirl the Bearded right in front of me.

Not the time, Twilight. Steady breaths, I need to stay calm and composed right now. I look up at the pony across from me, and he's waiting patiently to continue detailing how he began the usurping of the Everfree Throne on loop 0,302 (He specifies the zero in the thousandths place, which I find deeply concerning considering only hundreds in he's detailing treason and blasphemy of the highest order.) It's become apparent now why the princess told me Star Swirl had gone mad in his last years before his disappearance.

"So, let me get this straight," I begin, giving him a stern looking-over as I try in vain to keep the bias out of my voice. "You inadvertently set yourself on an inescapable time loop, and used that power to attempt to seize the throne in a political coup against the Princess, in the name of knowledge?" I summarize the last ten minutes fairly candidly, and he nods his approval in return.

"And failed, you'd be happy to know, though it seems that's another point not worth going into detail over. After all, here we are," He waves a hoof widely around him, but it's clear he's not talking about the pocket dimension. If he had succeeded, Equestria would be a very different place, likely a magocratic dystopia. I keep my tongue in cheek for that thought, but with the near mania he describes his actions over his hundreds of lifetimes I wonder if voicing that concern would even faze him. Something he just said does faze me, though.

"What makes you think I'm happy you failed? I mean, obviously I don't believe what you were trying to do was right for a LOT of reasons, but you make it sound like I have some personal investment in a millennia-old dispute between you and Celestia."

"How would you feel if I told you I killed your mentor, dethroned her legacy and denied her even a grave?"

My chest tightens up immediately, and I'm not sure if I want to attack him or revisit my hospital food.

"That's what I thought." He shakes his head with a scoff, turning to observe nothing in particular while I reel in my instinctual response. "She's kept you close, closer than any other disciple she's ever had. She wants you to feel important to her, as if you're an integral part of her existence. Her mission of you to report directly to her through dragon mail reinforces the surrogate-parent relationship she's instilled and groomed in you since foalhood. You look up to her as a mentor, a second mother, and a confidant. You know they're all only half-truths, but it's enough to instill an absolute loyalty to her. She gives you everything you've ever needed, and she only asks for your all in return." He canters over to the illusory kitchen, leaning low and nudging open a cabinet with his nose. He spots something inside and leans forward, struggling to tug it free with his teeth.

"Oh, careful, they get stuck under the-" There's a loud CRASHing of several cast-iron pans and skillets as he rips a bag of pre-shaped hay fries from beneath the mountain of cookingware, bringing it all tumbling to the ground.

"Oh no, SPI-" I call out automatically, and the name catches in my throat. A breath stalls out in my chest as I consider him sitting in the field in the middle of the Everfree, next to a raging Luna after watching me blink out of existence next to a dead pegasus mare.

"Your young dragon will be fine, if that's what you're worried about. He's not here, this space is only a manifestation of our shared consciousness." He arcs the bag into the air with an under-hoof toss, and it thuds onto the countertop where he begins to pull them out by hoof. He kicks up a mid-size skillet and sets it onto the stovetop behind him, dropping a batch in and preparing them without any oil.

His words don't assuage my concerns, but it's enough to look past them for the time being.

"Why am I here? What's your goal in all of this, if it's not usurping the princess?" I press, pulling up a stool to sit across the countertop from him, but I decide at the last moment to remain standing instead.

"Oh, it is. I'm not entirely sold on the line of thought that you may be the key to it yet, but you are undeniably the most important piece in Celestia's master contingencies. It's my hope that you'll see reason and find the heart to at least not stop me in my pursuit." He turns the heat up, and there's no familiar sizzle as the skillet warms from beneath. There's still time to salvage it, the oil is in the cabinet just above his head.

"That's an asinine master plan, especially for a unicorn as brilliant as you. You don't really expect me to believe that if this talk doesn't go well that you'll just let me walk out of here, do you? How do you think this looks from my perspective, from anypony's?" I stare at the back of his head, and the graying deep green strands of his mane sway back and forth as he bites at the handle, keeping the heat distribution uniform among the fries.

"Well for starters, the term 'here' isn't quite appropriate. We're in my office right now, though this entire subjective experience will have happened nearly instantly once one of us wills it to be over. As to your freedom of choice and my reaction to it, you're correct in that I cannot let you leave if you harbor intent to actively halt my progress. I was hoping that as an academic first and foremost you'd be willing to see reason, though; Find middle ground as some arbiters say." The fries are beginning to brown, and he finally opens the cupboard above him, but just when his hoof passes in front of the olive oil, it darts past and produces a small shaker of cayenne pepper. We don't have cayenne pepper in our kitchen. "And to be frank, Twilight Sparkle, I do not care much for a commonpony's perspective to this situation. Were the masses' perspectives to decide the fate of Equestria, it would have been in ruin centuries ago. Though I digress, debate on governmental preferences is far beyond the scope of simple Chronomancy."

I shake my head, not sure where the blurred line on what I agree and disagree with him lies. There's some truth to that, but there's a lot of arrogance too.

"You don't believe that there's anything to be learned from listening to what other ponies have to say? Nopony knows everything, Star Swirl, not even Star Swirl. Ever since I came to Ponyville I-"

"Yes, yes, friendship and understanding, true happiness, trust me little pony I've heard it all before." He scoffs again, but he does pause what he's doing to glance over his shoulder at me, and he gives me an appraising look. I'm trying to keep a neutral look to not upset him, but the truth is I think there's something more concerning going on in my head. He's so absorbed in his own perspective of the world, he's completely oblivious to alternatives. He's alienated his consciousness, hyper-fixating on his frantic pursuit of knowledge and developing his spellcraft. That look all the fillies gave me as I walked on by them in Canterlot, that my parents gave me when I found another excuse to stay home instead of attending another of my classmate's cute-ceañera parties, that's the look that I'm certain is slipping through the cracks. I always hated when everypony gave me that look, because they just didn't understand the value of my time exceeded those silly things, that they weren't necessary. Looking at him, I'm looking at myself. And I'm scared of what I'm seeing.

We share a long look at each other, and I open my mouth to say something, anything to try and bring the tension out of it, but I come up short. It's an unwinnable hand he's giving me, he doesn't want me to comfort him, and I don't think I could bring myself to even if I thought it would help. He knows my life inside and out, it's basically a spectacle for anypony half-heartedly curious. The intimate details of my connection with my friends, the good that's come of it, he's likely either observed first-hoof or had reports handed to him from confidential sources. There's nothing I can tell him that's going to change his mind, it took Celestia herself to move the heavens and Equus to get me out of the Canterlot library for the one-in-a-thousand chance I met the others. Star Swirl doesn't have a Celestia, in fact it seems he abhors the idea of one. What can you do for a pony like that?

He pulls away from the silent argument, and in a smooth motion with his head and neck he empties the contents of the skillet onto a small stretch of paper towel. The hay-fries are a perfect golden-brown, with small red specs of cayenne dotting them. Surprisingly they're not stuck to the pan at all, and without the oil coating them there's no greasy layer of insulation coating either them or the cookware. Maybe his method of cooking has merits for him. There's no cleanup, the fries don't get attached, and he gets the meal he's looking for. But that doesn't mean it's the only way to cook hay fries.

"When Princess Luna caught me up on your relationship, as your mentor, she seemed... She said you were a prodigy, that you could have propelled both magic and science through the ages. Even in the decades before you disappeared- sorry- before you began your..." I stop myself from using the word crusade, but I don't have much of a better word for it, so I just skip a few words ahead. He doesn't seem to mind as he helps himself to some of his hay fries. "I just mean, imagine where we could be now! You might have brought pony society into a golden age if she was right, you made so many breakthroughs in half a lifetime that you're literally immortalized in legend despite what you did! Do you mean to tell me that all that you could accomplish in the confines of one lifetime still aren't enough?"

"Not particularly, no. In addition to my spite-fueled rage against the machine, a longing for a similar relationship to the one you have with your mentor, the greed for an indeterminate lifespan, and knowledge of the olden ages, my arrogance and self-importance blinds me to what could be if I had just shut up and died at the peaceful, ripe age of two hundred after making my contributions and living happily surrounded by friends and family. Is that where you were hoping to go with this?"

"No, that's not at all what I meant!" It's kind of exactly where I was going with that, just... You know, not as condescending, maybe? "Okay, it's kind of what I meant, but do you really think this is okay? That pegasus sounded like she revered you, and she was willing to-" The next word gets stuck in my throat again, and I have to blink away a suffocating feeling before I can continue. Star Swirl pops another fry in his mouth, studying the interweaving strips of potato diminishing before him. "I was like that, not just to Celestia. I put you on a pedestal, too. Don't you think that you're abusing that same relationship that you're denouncing the Princess of weaponizing?"

"Two wrongs don't make a right, Twilight, but three lefts do. I'm aware of the hypocrisy. I've changed my stance on several matters far more ethically-challenging than riding the coattails of my own legacy in order to recruit devotees to my cause. If I'm to have any chance of achieving my goal within the confines of my lifespan, I must innovate and pursue imaginative solutions. Pragmatic approaches to difficult problems often require moral sacrifice, and I've come to terms with that even if the rest of society has not."

"So that's the precedent you want to set for your perfect magocratic golden society? Pursue knowledge at any cost necessary, blazing earth style? Pragmatism is just a fancy way of masking your unethical decisions, you see that, right? Ponies are happy, even if you or I don't agree with how we got here, we did get here! Maybe it's not what you wanted, but in the thousand years you've been plotting against Celestia, did you ever think to stop and give it a try, to enjoy what you have instead of risking it all for what you wanted?"

Another hay fry down, only a few left now. He only chews for a moment before swallowing, and the next one's quick to follow.

"First off, I never so much as implied a magocratic system of governance, so kindly see past your villainization of my methods and review what you know to be true before making assertions. Second off, I've risked nothing that was not within my authority to do so. Never once have I endangered anypony whom did not implicate themselves. I could reign hell on this nation if my desire was solely plotting against that sun-wielding bitch, but my intention lies in the best interests of the society she manipulates and claims to shield from undesirable truths, such as myself for example." I feel my chest tighten up a bit as he slanders my teacher's name, but I stay quiet. He'd have a field day about 'brainwashing' and 'grooming' if I interrupted him over something that petty.

He continues his rant, waving a fry through the air and pointing it at me accusatorially for emphasis. "And lastly, what I desire isn't of importance in the grand scheme of my goals. What I desire has always been a teleport away, at times even within literal reach. My goal is what requires patience, spellcraft, and discipline, not my wants, as you put it."

I know he's wrong, but the absolute confidence he has in this keeps throwing me off. I can't imagine how many times he's had this exact argument, how many ponies he's had this conversation with time and time again to have all of his responses so readily scripted, casual enough to be almost disinterested.

"Just because you're making sacrifices for what you believe in doesn't make what you believe in right." is the response I finally come to. It's a truth I refused to come to terms with for years. I was becoming more well-read every day, at the rate I was going I could have even aimed for the unclaimed prestigious title of archmage by my late twenties, a title vacant since the pony in front of me himself disappeared over a thousand years ago, and even then it was only granted posthumously. Despite all the lonely nights and personal sacrifices I made in pursuit of that greatness, knowing what I do now, I would never abandon the friends and experiences I've made. I was living my entire life predicated on a lie I'd spun into my own truth, justifying it to myself for myself. Maybe that's the key to get this stubborn old unicorn in front of me to see reason, maybe there's a reason fate put me in front of him. Maybe... He just needs a friend?

He laughs in my face, and the tiny spark of understanding I was beginning to kindle is doused, stomped into the dirt, and buried.

"Ha! Of course it doesn't, I never said it did, but that really is golden, Twilight Sparkle. Allow me to put something to rest for you, and I will do so in a manner that is direct and brutal so that there can be no room for misinterpretation." He levels a fry at me, and there's an almost playful look of amusement as he crushes my hope of helping him. "You and I are not the same. Similar, perhaps, in some ways, though not the same. Perhaps you believe my ambitions are lofty or unethical, but deep down you know they're sensible, you just can't bring yourself to agree to them because if you did, you'd be a bad pony. You feel the desire- the requirement- to defend status quo, because any alternative surely isn't worth dying for, not worth killing for. Any alternative isn't worth the evils it entails. But you know you're wrong, you know you've found solace in believing you're above it, so that you can sleep at night knowing your every move is a calculated one on that soulless bit-"

I slap him. Hard. I'm not a violent mare, but for the first time in my life I can't contain the anger and frustration of listening to his nonsensical ranting, the insults, the delusions. The impact stings on my hoof, and he blinks a few times, processing what just happened. Neither of us move or say anything for a few moments, and I let my hoof slowly fall onto the counter as I let my body shake out the anger. He rubs at his cheek, but he's staring at the ground with an unreadable expression.

"When a pony can't understand something, violence is often a first reaction." He mutters, and he looks up at me. I'm taken aback though, when I see he's actually sad- no, disappointed. The weight of what I just did dawns on me, I've made it clear I'm no more willing to put forth the effort of understanding his situation than anypony else, that I'm only trying to win him over to my side because it's clearly the only right one. I asked him to consider things from my perspective, but just like him, I just assumed that he was wrong and I was right. And when I was being forced to confront that...

"I'm sorry, I-"

"I really thought you might have understood. Pragmatic, Twilight. If nothing else, please, just... Keep that word in mind when it comes time to decide where your loyalties lie." And just like that, he blinks out of existence. I'm suddenly alone in this illusory library, left to stare down at my stinging hoof and accept the possibility that I might just be a bad pony after all.

9 - Dear Princess Celestia

Author's Note

Warning, those dark tags are there for a reason.

9 - Dear Princess Celestia

DEAR PRINCESS CELESTIA

Dear Princess Celestia,

It's hard to believe that two ponies that seem to have so little in common could ever get along. But I found out that if you embrace each other's differences, you just might be surprised to discover a way to be friends after all...

... Huh?

Dear Princess Celestia,

My friends and I all learned an important lesson this week: Never judge a book by its cover. Someone may look unusual, or funny, or scary. But you have to look past that and learn who they are inside. Real friends don't care what your "cover" is; it's the contents of a pony that count. And a good friend, like a good book, is something that will last forever.

...Not right now, Spike.

Dear Princess Celestia,

When you first sent me to Ponyville, I didn't know anything about friendship. I met somepony tonight who was having the same problem - your sister, Princess Luna! She taught me that one of the best things you can do with friendship is to give it to others, and help them find it themselves! And I'm happy to report that all of Ponyville has learned that even though somepony seems a little intimidating, even scary, when you offer them your friendship, you'll discover a whole new pony underneath. And even if my Star Swirl the Bearded costume didn't go over, this still turned out to be the best Nightmare Night ever!

...

Oh, I bucked up.

"WAIT! Star-" I bolt upright with an outreached hoof, and it's greeted by the cold, empty air of the Everfree Forest. I whip my head left, right, looking for the unicorn whose expectations I just betrayed and ground into dust, but there's only a couple tent canopies and a score of Lunar guard. Most of them are glancing my way after the outburst, but they quickly go back to their duty after they deem me as not a threat.

"... Swirl..."

I feel a sudden sense of panic as something reaches forward from behind me, wrapping its' arms around my shoulders and gripping me tightly, but it quickly fades away as the familiar clawed digits find purchase in my knotted and tangled fur. Oh, Spike, you must have been absolutely mortified! I don't remember how long I was in that realm for, but I must have been gone for hours while he and Luna were here worried sick.

"Spike, where's Luna?" Is what I blurt out instead, still waiting for my heart rate to settle as the flood gates of consciousness finally begin opening and I start processing everything properly. The arms wrapped around me tense up a bit, and instead of a response I feel him embrace me in a tight hug from behind. I feel his chest heaving silently and- Oh, horseapples, I think he's crying.

"Hey, I'm sorry, Spike. It's fine, I'm alright, you're alright, right? We're both alright, Spike. We're okay." I wrap my hooves over his hands in an attempt to calm him down, but I think I just made whatever he's feeling worse because he's audibly bawling now, the tears seeping into the back of my neck and the claws starting to scratch my forelegs as he hugs me even tighter. I blink a few times and groan as that familiar high-pitched ringing begins quickly rising in my ears, drowning out everything else within moments.

Dear Princess Celestia,

The current legislation regarding imported crystallized mana gems isn't sustainable for a number of reasons. Pyroclastic flows can frequently exceed a thousand degrees, resulting in-

"Ow, my head..." I groan, squeezing my eyes shut and grabbing at my temples with my forehooves, leaving spike's hands to their own devices. That migraine that was rearing its' head earlier is really coming back in full force.

I don't feel Spike's chest heaving on my back anymore. Wow, he calmed down fast.

-regular seasonal movement, often north and south along a flyway, between breeding and wintering grounds. Not to be confused with hibernation habits, which result in nearly 40% of densely-forested ecosystems to be-

"QUIET!" I bark out, and just as suddenly as it left my hearing returns to me, the ringing silent and the storm of incoherent words quelled back to subconsciousness. I don't feel Spike's arms anymore. As a matter of fact, he's standing in front of me, looking incredibly worried. So does Luna, actually. Oh, found Luna.

'What I desire has always been a teleport away, at times even within literal reach.'

"Oh..." I mutter as I'm forced to remember Star Swirl's words. "That's what he meant..." I mumble. Luna says something in response to that, but my head's swimming just too fast to catch it. Thinking just isn't something I'm capable of right now, thanks for asking. Please send your scroll again later, postage paid, book returns on the left, organized by last name...

Oh, I'm on the ground again. That's nice, it'll be easier to figure this out after a nap.

My heart's running a marathon beneath my regalia.

Twilight's screaming like she's being torn asunder. That shouldn't be possible, I assured her that shouldn't be possible. She's doing this voluntarily but despite that, I know something's wrong. Even if we can hear them, we can't see them. I don't care what sister says, I'm interfering. I won't have her blood on my hooves, I'd rather another thousand years a world away.

With a flick of my horn every single enchantment and ward is undone, hours of painstaking abjuration incantations and thousands of bits worth of spell components crumbling to dust in doing so. Twilight's just sitting there beside the cultist screaming as she was instructed by the pegasus, but training my eyes even from behind them I can see the strain on the cultists' throat as she stretches her neck to speak over the scream.

'She's masking the message,' I realize, though I couldn't read her lips from this direction even if I was able to see through the haze of fading enchantments clearly. Before I waste any more time thinking, I teleport as close as I dare to the edge of the erratic magic and break into a breakneck gallop towards her, wings outstretched and rocketing me forward. Looking past them I see Crescent Slash and Subtle Nod doing the same, covering the prisoner's primary escape vectors like I've trained them to.

Then something happens that I don't understand. It's him, suddenly standing right there in the center of all my work and protections. He sees me, I know he sees me, but he's a flurry of movement that I can't keep track of. He yells something, and Twilight stops screaming. He touches a hoof down on the forehead of the Pegasus and his horn flashes, then she falls limp onto the ground. In an instant he casts another spell, but then he freezes up with a hoof raised half into the air as if he's reconsidering something. Whatever it is, he has about three seconds before I'm beyond the remnants of the nullification zone and... And... I suppose sending him to Tartarus is as good a plan as any. I hope he can forgive that, it's all I can think of in the split-seconds available to me.

My horn lights with the familiar detainment spell prepared, and as I approach the dead zone I see his flare to life as well, and without any hint of the hesitation from before, he taps a forehoof against Twilight's head as she starts to move towards his Portal.

"NAY!" I scream out pathetically, and I let loose the containment spell from outside the chaotic aftermath of the dispelling wards. It darts out in a blitz of Azure light and punctures against the cloudy mana-static between us, but it's not enough. It's twisted and distorted as it passes by, and it showers the inside of the area with harmless blue sparks of my dissolved spell. As I charge another and finally break the threshold horn-first, time seems to slow. Star Swirl turns and in a flash of light disappears, likely into whatever lies beyond the portal. Twilight doesn't follow, though. Instead she stands still for a moment, then begins to list to the side as her legs crumple beneath her.

"YOU DARE?" I scream in a blind fury, the forgiveness of the stallion a distant memory. Now beyond the barrier, I have a clear shot at the portal and I take it. The detainment spell passes through but misses the unicorn. I send another. Then I charge a disintegration ray and it, too, flies through. I hurl one last spell through before he can close the gateway, a Zebra incantation translated into pony magic, Kufutwa kwa akili. It looks perfect, I can see it on course to strike him in the side as he turns to close the gate, but as if he somehow divined the strike he suddenly drops to the ground and it goes whizzing overhead.

I scream, and try to force my teleportation through the magical inhibiting muck. The spell fires, but in the chaos it sends me careening across the ground face-first, and I feel something in my upper torso snap under the impact. The portal's just in front of me, but I know even if I were able to move it's too late. Through eyes stained red, I only catch a glimpse of my lost love as he tries his best not to look back and destroys the spatial link between us.

"WE WILL ANNIHILATE YOU!" I curse at him, but I'm screaming into nothing. I keep screaming anyway, slamming my hoof into the dirt where he stood just a moment before. I yell obscenities and bloody murder in a screeching racket until Subtle Nod reaches me a few moments later and immediately I feel the pinpricks of my custom healing invocations stabbing at my being. It's much more painful than if I were to cast it, but such are the limitations of unicorns casting Alicorn-tier magic. I barely feel my humerus being liquified and mended through my rage, and the moment I'm able to stand I swear I'm going to catch the trace route of that teleport while it's fresh and obliterate that fool. I was such an idiot, thinking he wouldn't be-

My multitude of ideas for de-horning him come to a halt, however, when I let my head fall to the side and I'm left staring at a collapsed lavender lump of unicorn only a foot away, deathly still and unbreathing.

It's a ploy. It's a false death paralysis, he was trying to recruit her. He wouldn't kill her, would he? That was the entire goal, wasn't it? To recruit Twilight?

I wince in pain as I begin to summon more mana than I have left for another spell, but will it to continue. With my wellspring depleted, the spell begins to siphon from Subtle's attempts to heal me, and from the excess ambient mana dissolving into the earth all around me from my past work. I press the spell forward into Twilight, and it coalesces around her horn for a few seconds before slowly seeping into it, outlining its' ridges in the light blue of my magic as it presses into her body through her forehead and begins its' work.

"Nightmother, please-" their strained voice gasps for air, and a forehoof gives out from under them.

"Silence!" I hush the unicorn, continuing the spell. She obliges, but after a few more seconds her magic flickers and fades as she collapses as well, unable to supply enough mana to maintain her own spell in addition to my siphon. That's fine, she's supplied plenty. The redundant medic will arrive shortly to finish her work. I focus on my spell, poking and prodding at Twilight's body for the second time in the same day to find the point of failure. When my spell completes, however, I'm slapped with the simple reality that I already knew to begin with.

Twilight is dead.

Her internal organs, skeletal, and muscular structures are perfectly intact, but a diminutive portion of her temporal lobe has been completely vaporized. Every moment between now and reanimation the higher the chance of permanent, irreversible damage. The thought of a Twilight with dementia or memory loss flashes across my mind, and the misery the mare would be put through. She'd likely prefer I left her dead.

Ignoring the screaming pain in my chest, I lurch forward and grab at the amulet strung around her neck in my teeth, tearing it away and laying it on the ground beside her head.

'I command thee, obey.' I murmur in a quiet voice much less authoritative than the order. I search inwards for that reservoir, the restricted portion of my wellspring. This can't wait, there's no other option. As I begin replicating the instructions from the amulet to repair the missing fragment of Twilight's mind, my horn begins burning with a deep, black magic that bubbles up from the darkest depths of my soul, feeding on my rage.

'Your theory of Major Timeline Continuity suggests that any timeline sufficiently different enough from the Alpha would crumble without a perpetually-charged Chrono-anchor to bind it to the Alpha.'

My vision crosses over itself, a gaussian blur obscuring the gray pony in front of me behind a veil of melding color and mental fog. I try my best to blink it away, but my eyelids aren't responding properly. They're blinking on their own, not when I tell them to. It's somehow even more disorienting, as if there's a lag between my command and the action, or no command at all.

'Explain how you just told a lie in a zone of truth,' The gray blob in front of me says flatly. I think for a moment. What statements have I made in the last ten seconds? I claimed him to have only cast silence wards, a custom meditative-based Astral Projection spell, and a Chronomancy spell, likely his link. I reiterated his theory of Major Timeline Continuity, and admitted to seeing him cast a Zone of Truth.

He definitely cast a silence ward, the matrix for it is kindergarten grade warding and still lingering in the air. It's possible this spell isn't meditative-based, though that's far too inconsequential for him to make a point out of given the scope of our conversation. His Major Timeline Continuity thesis is the core premise of all of Chronomancy's divergence theories. The Zone of Truth in itself, but that's- No, before any of that. He's telling me I'm mistaken, he's saying-

"We're not in the Alpha timeline." I suddenly blurt out, but my voice isn't the one coming out of my throat. It's a more clipped, slightly higher-pitched voice that's just a bit faster than mine. It continues making sounds I'm not thinking, and the realization hits me that I'm very clearly not in control. Is this divination, or a relic of the past? A fever dream? What do I last remember doing, where was I just before now?

I try my hardest, but to no avail; My mind has no answers for me.

I feel a sharp stab of pain in the center of my brain, and the scene is obliterated- replaced with a searing white static that immolates my mind for what feels like an eternity, then subsides quickly to black.

The darkness slowly peels away, and I feel 'myself' blink a few times. The world beyond the veil is in focus now, and after a few tries the body I'm inhabiting finally props itself up and opens its' eyes. There's a deep green hoof in front of me, and it reaches forward to idly trace a Lunis rune inscribed on the stone floor just ahead. The rune matrix inscribed into the spell circle is a colossal undertaking. I barely understand half of the parameters, and with the way this bodies' head is pounding I assume they don't either.

I hear the stallion's voice from behind me, and there's a light pressure of a hoof on my back.

'I told you I would not right you a second time. Welcome, Goldfish. I look forward to saving Equestria with you,'

Star Swirl! I want to turn around, but it's beyond my power. I'm locked behind the eyes of the mare I'm inhabiting, and they're beginning to blur out of focus again as tears start welling up, and a massive pressure in her chest I hadn't realized was there ebbs away.

Star Swirl's hoof slides off, and he walks away. A moment later the sound of a door opening, some more hoof falls, and it closes behind him.

"What'd I tell you? Piece of cake for the smartest pegasus in Equestria!" A stallion's voice I don't recognize rings out, but the mare's chest tightens back up and butterflies start flittering in her stomach as somepony embraces her tightly from behind. He begins to mutter something, but a rising ringing in my ears deafens him and mutes the scene. It keeps getting louder, and louder, and there's another piercing pain in the middle of my brain as something snaps back into place and-

"DEAR!" I scream as I shoot up from the ground, lurching a hoof forward trying to find the pony I had somehow forgotten. The world is still blurry, and I try my best to blink the tears away amidst the sniffles and remnants of the chest heaves from my phantom crying fit I was having in my sleep. My mane and coat are damp and cold, and I feel a gentle rain pattering onto the ground.

"Twilight, TWILIGHT!" Spike's beside me, but I can't respond to him before the thoughts well up and begin to assault me.

Dear Princess Celestia,

Your theory of Major Timeline Continuity suggests that any timeline sufficiently different-

"no- Please..." I lean forward and cradle my head in my forehooves, and within moments the events I just experienced begin replaying in my mind all at once, bringing a colossal headache as my brain struggles to re-parse it at the rate I'm forced to remember it.

I feel the manipulation of a spell from somepony else probing my head, and the pain begins to slowly subside. Every moment the enormous weight on my head lifts a bit more, and I feel my body begin to relax as I rest my head on a forehoof with a blissful sigh. I crack open my eyes and see Spike's hand on the forehoof I'm using to keep my head propped up. I follow the arm up to his face, and he looks like I feel. There's a twisted expression on his face, and there's tears in his eyes, too.

"Spike, what happened?" I lift my head and take a quick look around. We're still in the Everfree Forest, in the middle of the clearing. The null-zone is completely dissipated, and I'm still sat in the middle of it. I look over to my right and my heart sinks as my eyes fall on the body of a small dark-green pegasus mare, not moving or breathing. Spike follows my gaze, but he doesn't say anything. He looks away and takes a step closer to wrap me in a hug, but I don't look away. My eyes are glued to the stalker-cultist-mare I was just having a deep, meaningful conversation with, now lying dead in front of me.

"No... Spike, Spike I need to-" I struggle against him, but he keeps me in his grasp, holding even tighter. "Spike! Spike, please move, I need to- SPIKE!" I yell at him, and we both go completely still. He slowly lets go of me and takes a step back, and he looks like I just stabbed him. Worse, he's afraid... Afraid of me?

My eyes widen and I take a sharp breath in as I realize I was snarling at him. I let my mouth hang there for a second while we stare at each other. I feel my senses slow down, and there's a moment of clarity between the rain, thoughts, emotion and pain. It's just silence as I look at my baby dragon, and he begins crying again.

"... I- Spike, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

He takes a step away from me, then another one. Please don't do this, Spike.

He sucks in a big breath, closes his eyes, and quickly begins jogging away, taking any feeling I had with him as time catches up to my senses and the cold of the rain seeps back into my fur. I don't have anything to say, and I'm left with a hollow pit in my heart as I watch him disappear into the treeline.

"Tracer, guard him." A deep, rich mare's voice calls out from behind. My ears perk up, and I whip my head around.

"With my life, Nightmother." A pegasus Lunar guard blocks my view as he performs a wing-salute, but as he whips off into the sky the towering black form of Nightmare Moon is left standing behind me, watching the guard dart out of sight.

"Nightmare-" The words get locked in my throat and I feel myself beginning to panic. None of my friends are here, I don't have the Elements. I have no way to deal with this, I'm not properly equipped! I'm-

"It is us, Twilight, fear not." She raises an unclad forehoof through the air between us in a calming motion, and very slowly approaches as her horn glows black. Her face is genuine in its' attempt to be comforting, but the vertical iris' and powerful aura of darkness she's emitting far outweigh it. "Our mind is in our control, only our form has shifted." The glow of her horn fades, and I feel a pressure in my head I didn't realize had been building ebb away again.

Aville's Cure-All, a simple pain relief spell incepted by Ad Aville several hundred years ago, and cultivated through the ages into the refined multipurpose pain and stress relief incantation of the modern era. Stalliongrad university is cited-

I find it much easier to shake the thoughts away, but they persist quietly in the back of my mind. Nightmare Moon waits patiently as I shake my head back and forth, and I take the time to catch my breath and steady my heart rate to some semblance of normal.

"Thank you." I finally manage. She tilts her head a bit, and I turn myself around to properly face her. I give standing a try, but it's clear I'm not ready for that. My legs are fine, but the neurons between them and my mind are still busy catching up with each other. "For sending somepony to watch after Spike, I mean."

She nods knowingly, and glances in the direction he ran off in before giving a deep sigh.

"How do you feel, Twilight Sparkle? Is there any pain, intrusive thoughts? Can you feel all of your limbs?" Night- I mean Luna- asks in that rich voice of her altar ego. The speech patterns are uncanny, but hearing them from that form is doing my fight-or-flight instincts in. Maybe it's the logical side of my brain, maybe it's the sedation spell I'm under, but I manage to swallow down the unease and test everything. Hooves, check. My tail seems fine as I flick it idly on the grass. I swivel my head from side to side, and focus my ears forward. All systems nominal.

"My body seems fine, but something's wrong with my head... I'm hearing- No, more like remembering things constantly." I sit in silence for a moment just observing myself, and another detail comes to mind. "Also, my ears keep ringing. They've been doing that ever since you healed me that first time, actually." I add on. That gets a surprised look from her, but if that's exceedingly bad she doesn't show any further sign of it.

"Luna, where's the amulet? Where's the soulgem?" I ask, bringing a hoof up to my bare chest where it was hanging before I fell asleep. I glance around, not finding it anywhere.

"We have it in our possession, though it has already served its' purpose. We will cure your ailments, Twilight Sparkle, though it will require time. The reason we have taken this form is because our wellspri-"

"I need it, please, I can use it," I interrupt her, and she stares back at me with a quizzical look. Then what she just said relays itself in my mind. "What do you mean it served its' purpose? You don't mean-" I ask, beginning to piece the story together. The hollow feeling in my chest expands to encompass my entire body, and a frigid chill seeps into my bones.

"Indeed, it is so. We will inform you of our failures soon, but you must rest for a time, your mind and body-"

"That's not possible, that doesn't make sense!" I shout back, my and Star Swirl's meeting replaying with perfect clarity in my head. "He told me I would need to choose- That when the time came..." I trail off, staring at the ground as my brain tries to piece together the entire story. It actually comes together incredibly easily, pieces I hadn't even realized I knew come up as I'm thinking about unrelated things, forming a mosaic of occurrences and memories that slot together like a puzzle.

Star Swirl was Luna's student, he would know she's capable of resurrecting me, and he has the intelligence network to know my value to the Diarchs. Somehow it all fits in a twisted logic I'm sure he would have applied, even if I'm not entirely sure how I reached the conclusion.

I look to my left now, and my eyes study the pegasus mare beside me. Her ailments fresh in my mind now, I remember taking the amulet when she was talking. I remember pushing through the pain of the null zone, I remember overwriting the soulgem that had housed my replication instructions with hers. I stare back at Luna, and she has a very dark expression on her face, one that makes me question if it isn't truly Nightmare Moon in front of me after all.

"Twilight sparkle, did you overwrite your soulgem with this cultist?" She asks, and there's a hint of something venomous underneath the slow, calm words. Her mouth tightens up a bit, but I meet the glare with a lot more bravery than I realized I had.

"Yes. You must have heard her, she said she was going to die! How could I not save her?"

'WERE WE TO BE IN CONTROL SHE WOULD NEVER HAVE KNOWN, AND SCORES OF THESE SO-CALLED PONIES WOULD BE WITHOUT BREATH!' The memory comes unabated, and another piece of the puzzle slots itself into the mosaic.

"You knew..." I breathe softly, then scoff. "You knew he was going to kill her, and you didn't say anything!?" There's something behind my words too, and there's a lot of it as the realization of how Luna's willing to handle things really, truly sinks in. It doesn't have the impact I'd like it to on account of my being unable to stand, but I make up for it by glaring back with as much disappointment as I can muster. It's only after my outburst I notice there are several of her guard now staring at the display, looking unsure where to be or what to do.

Luna raises her head and sucks in a huge breath through her nostrils, and I see her begin to literally shake in frustration as she struggles not to explode. She manages, if barely, and with a huff her black aura of magic reaches out to the nearby canopy and picks up the amulet from one of the tables, flinging it onto the ground between my hooves as her spell sputters and loses power.

"We gladly bear the burden of this one's death. If thou wishes to bear their life, far be it for us to stop thee!" And with that, not dissimilar to Spike, she turns and trots away with a silent fury. I don't watch her as she begins issuing orders to the guard, instead focusing on the amulet. I reach out and wrap my magic around it, willing it to float over to Goldfish's body, and it complies. Magic, check.

I close my eyes and try to gauge myself, prodding at my wellspring from several angles. The resistance is massive, which confirms that despite my recent flirt with death, my magic wasn't affected, or at the very least my wellspring retained its' mana. Instead of trying to walk to her body, I wrap myself up in another telekinesis field and drag myself over. My legs dangle awkwardly for a second, but once I'm beside her I reach out a forehoof to press the amulet against her chest.

I've never seen a body before. Sure, an insect that reached the end of its' lifespan or a rat that got into the Cake's kitchen, but right here, right in front of me and under my hoof was a real pony's body. I try to clear my head, take a deep breath and refocus, but feeling finally returns to my stomach in the form of a churning revulsion as I throw myself away from the mare just before that feeling wells up and I heave onto the ground next to me. There's the burn of acid in my throat and mouth, but I haven't eaten since Daisy's and there's nothing left to come back up. I use my damp fetlock to wipe at the edge of my mouth, and focus on the earth beneath my hooves and the chill of the air to root myself and calm my nerves. I can do this.

I close my eyes, take another shaky breath and slowly shift back towards Goldfish, the wind suddenly taken from my proverbial sails. I pick the amulet back up from the ground and wipe a smudge of mud from the gem, and the bright glow shines back at me as I flip it around and press it into her chest fluff. I reach out with my magic and the world begins to fall away as I dive into the reconstitution spell. It's more of a reconstruction spell with the insanely detailed instructions it feeds back to me rapid-fire, but this isn't the time for semantics. I can feel her body beginning to set into the first stages of rigor mortis, but I push that to the back of my mind along with the flurry of unrelated thoughts fighting to claw their way to the surface.

It all falls away as I enter my flow state. Now it's just me, the spell, and several octillion atoms zipping and decaying through the body in front of me. No pressure. I dive into the gem and what feels like a long receipt of instructions zooms by faster than I can make sense of it. Tail, bladder, mid-section left side, all I need is the temporal lobe. I dive deeper, and the information gets more complex.

Carbon is a massive chunk of all of it, and if really bloats the processing power required to traverse the important parts. Not to say carbon isn't important, obviously- most organic beings are composed primarily of it- but to have it listed so many times is just redundant. There's a lot of things like that, actually. Sequences of repeating elements and linear curvatures that could have been conveyed with a simple formula or expression in short hoof and cut the information bloat by tenths, if not hundredths. I make a mental note to revisit this process later, in a stable and less stressful environment.

Dear Princess Celestia,

doxmtn3U1khnxFAgPzkB - NlVCTYlBzTZp5vPNLfgm
YsWAxQ5uhmJYbNlwg5oC - IH47CJQ4yHBxE78IYV2D
SFU8aVduQ34kMDbHCpfS - Br92REy8FI3sCSzqTBAg
7zZTcbPm2Goa5QWPPoyq - KThouvNEceoPz5UAi5cs
fuaNoH9QTSPDUYUmOBCR - gXobN8lS048JOzthvDYm

I zoom past a flurry of new formations and reign the spell in, reversing the flow of information. It replays again, too fast to parse, but now that I'm searching for it I'm able to get a good look at it, and instead of stopping to re-read it over and over again I find I have no trouble recalling the entirety of the massive order of commands I'll need to input. Whatever small part of Goldfish's ailment I inherited, it's like a photographic memory with several orders of magnitude of improved efficiency. There's no image, just raw data input I can peruse freely, stored and preserved perfectly in my short-term memory. Remembering it is as simple as taking a breath or blinking, and I focus on that collection of information to begin my spell.

A second humming glow overlaps my horn, overpowering the silent base spell I'm casting in tandem. It's a bit harder than usual to maintain concentration, but I need both spells in order to reconstruct her mind properly. I bite at my lip and get to work, repressing the fact that I'm quite literally attempting post-mortem brain surgery utilizing ancient alicorn magic. Doing a great job on that front, Twilight, keep it up.

The work is grueling and tedious, but I keep my focus razor-sharp for nearly twenty minutes. At some point one of the guards laid one of Luna's unconscious unicorn guards near me and moved the extra canopy tent over the both of us. I'd have thanked them for the small kindness of keeping the rain away, but I barely even register the change as my magic swims through the slowly-patching hole in Goldfish's mind. Towards the end it starts to hurt as the spell begins to draw on the last vestiges of my once-full wellspring, but I grit my teeth and dig my hooves in for the final stretch: Resuscitation.

The second layer of magic withers and fades away as I cease focusing on it after nearly half an hour, though the first, dull one remains. I let my magic spread evenly through her body, surrounding her heart, traveling into her veins, and sinking into her muscles and lungs. With the instructions from the amulet, I have a read on the blood pressure throughout her body, lung capacity, heart rate capability, and through all that I'm able to infer how to effectively jump-start her body. It's no different from a machine at this point, once I give it a shove- Or rather, manually initiate her body's functions- it's completely equipped to resume where it left off.

All that's left is to inject that stream of momentum via kinetic transference. I take a deep breath, ready the spell, and... There's one more thing I need to do.

The second layer of humming power appears again, and there's pinpricks in my head and heart as I start drawing magic from my body instead of my wellspring itself. Ponies are innately magical, unicorns just happen to have a massive wellspring compared to the other races. Once that wellspring is used up though, we can still siphon the residual mana fueling our magical neuron network as a last-ditch resort. It's not much, but it should be enough for a minor change.

A third, final light shimmers over the amulet as I bring it to my own chest, and with speed even I'm surprised at I rip through my own data all the way down to the minute differentials. Her mind and my mind share one similarity, and her curse is in that similarity, somewhere in the temporal cortex. The princess will revert my mind, I'm sure of it, but I don't know if they'll offer that same mercy to a traitor, or a cultist, as Luna calls her.

There's a knot, a series of thousands of micro-folds overlapping in the bottom-left quadrant. It's a small deviation from normalcy, but even small deviations like that can create massive ripple effects in the complex system of a brain. Ripple effects such as recursive memory, a fractured persona, even forced feedback loops. If I were to smooth them out, or even space them just slightly further apart so they didn't overlap so heavily, it could mean a lifetime of freedom for her.

Not that she'll likely be free for any of the remainder of her life if the princesses have their say in it, which they irreproachably will, but that's a bridge to burn when I get there. I unknit tiny sections of the lobe, and re-seal them smoother than they were before, spaced out ever so slightly. It's delicate, and I'm only moderately versed in advanced neurology and neuroscience, but it should fix her.

At last, I let the amulet fall to the ground, having served its' purpose. One last deep breath, one last moment to steady myself, one last second of stillness as my magic lies still, ready to give her body the push it needs to start up again.

I let it loose.

In a surprisingly quick justle, her heart and lungs compress and expand, manually sucking air into her lungs and circulating the now un-oxygenated blood back through her body. The residual chemicals building post mortem quickly find themselves expelled as fresh air starts circulating, feeding her brain and organs and limbs. Her muscles begin to spasm as they link back up with her neural network, and there's a tiny spark that catches as the fresh fuel is greedily absorbed into her brain. It catches quickly, and less than ten seconds later she groans, convulses, then begins gasping for air as her body fails to continue automating the familiar process in her shock.

With no magic left to hold her down I lean onto her, trying to keep her from hurting herself as her body stabilizes. One of the nearby earth pony guards takes notice, and after a quick word to one of the others he trots over wordlessly and rolls her onto her side, doing a much better at holding her down than I could alone. I nod the nameless pony my appreciation, but he doesn't give any sort of response, verbal or otherwise.

After another minute or so, the convulsions ease, slow down, and then cease entirely. Her head flinches, before finally her eyes crack open as if awakening from a deep sleep. Her breathing is labored, but steady. I see some residual twitches in her hooves from her brain reconnecting to them, but all in all she seems like she's going to be alright.

I fall back onto my flank, and finally I let the tears come. I let out a huge breath, but it comes out in one shaky mess as I collapse into a fit of tears, pain, and worst of all, confusion. I finally allow my mind to let out all the stress I've been holding onto over the last day, and my empty body collapses into a fit of sobs.

I learned everything I'd wanted to, I saved Goldfish, I just cast a shoddy rendition of a personalized alicorn-tier healing evocation, and reprogrammed ancient technology on the fly. But I betrayed the hope of my hero who's actually a hopelessly lost sociopath, hurt Spike in so many ways, lost faith in myself and the princesses, and died. All in the same day. It's too much, I can't handle all of it at once, and my mind is trying to force it all onto me again now that my focus is free. Oh, Celestia, sweet merciful Celestia... Please, I need your help right now. I need my friends. I need so much.

"Twilight... I can hear...!" A hoarse, zombie-like rendition of the mare's voice forces out, and I feel the tip of what must be her hoof or her wing grazing my shoulder. I force my head out of my hooves and blink away the haze one more time. It is, in fact, her wing. The ends of her primaries are sat on my shoulder from a couple feet away, her outstretched hoof too far to have made it to me on its' first attempt. That's not what grabs me, though. What gets my attention is that she's smiling, through maybe more tears than me. She's overwhelmed too, but with very different feelings. For the first time since I've met her the other day, the bags under her eyes aren't so harsh, and her shoulders don't seem so weighed down.

For the first time, she looks happy.

We sit there and stare at each other for a while, and while the tears continue from both of us, I feel that massive void in my chest get just a tiny bit smaller.

10 - I'll Be Okay (Tomorrow)

Author's Note

<>

10 - I'll Be Okay (Tomorrow)

I'LL BE OKAY TOMORROW

It's been two days since I collapsed after reanimating Goldfish, and I'm finally beginning to feel like a pony again. My mana network was drained to the bone after I exhausted my wellspring, (which in itself is something I've only managed to do a hoof-full of times,) leaving me without my magic for the better part of a day. It wasn't as much of a hinderince as I'd have expected, seeing as I was unconscious for most of it.

Thankfully I wasn't admitted to the hospital again, but unthankfully I've been under the 'protection' of Luna's Night Guard ever since, which is a fancy way of saying house arrest. There's a pegasus stationed outside the front door, a unicorn in the Fiction section that I keep seeing eying the same cluster of sci-fi series', and a third bat pony who follows me room-to-room that's incredibly hard to keep track of, since she's quieter than a library mouse. The three changed shifts once about eleven hours ago, leading me to believe they work in 12-hour shifts.

I tried to argue with Luna that it wasn't necessary, but she's absolutely livid with me about my stunt with the soulgem. Well, you know what? To tartarus with her approval! I saved somepony's life! or at least reinstated it, it's basically the same thing!

I scuff my hoof against the floor huff defiantly, reassuring myself that I was, in fact, in the moral right.

"Twilight, dear, are you quite alright? You look as though you're upset by something again." A mare's voice chimes from across the counter. I look up from the floor and see Rarity leaning forward over the counter, hooves crossed in the air to rest her head on. She raises an eyebrow after I don't offer a response for a couple seconds, and I shake the intrusive topic from my mind.

"No, I'm just- Well, maybe a little, but it's something to do with the princess that I'm not sure I'm allowed to talk about yet." I gnaw on my tongue and we both turn our heads to the bat pony standing at the other end of the counter, making zero attempt to be subtle about the fact that she's listening to our every word. She meets our glances without even a flinch, and I sigh as I pick up a rag and plate in my magic, beginning to scrub away at the already-clean platter.

Rarity leans a bit further forward and motions for me to lean forward. I comply, and she whispers "When whatever happened blows over, you will tell us exactly what's happened, won't you? Not whatever cover story they'll surely circulate."

I suppress a conspiratorial giggle, backing off the counter and returning to idly washing the dishes.

"You know I'd never lie to you, or any of the girls, Rarity. Pinkie promi- Ouch!" I gasp and brace myself against the sink as a bolt of pain ruptures my skull. There's a flood of unprompted information and memories surfacing, drowning out any of my own thoughts and senses. I hear Rarity's voice, but it's already so loud in my own head that it's impossible to hear her.

I feel her wrap her hooves around my side to keep me steady, and she strokes my back up and down a few times before I feel a quick hornpoint jab at me somewhere in my lower neck. I let her support me and instead use my hooves to clutch uselessly at my head, hoping the pressure I'm putting on my own temples might drown out the pain that's wracking me from the inside. It doesn't.

What does help, though, is the blissful numbing of all feeling that courses through my entire body after somepony casts an Aville's Cure-All on me. It takes about ten awful seconds, but the pressure and pain finally begin to recede from my head down to my neck, spreading out across my shoulders and withers where I'm able to roll it out of my system, shaking slightly and catching my heavy, ragged breaths. I let my head droop further down until I'm resting it on the edge of the sink, and I let my forehooves fall off of the sides of my head.

I feel something damp dabbing at my withers, then doing its' best to wipe at what parts of my forehead it can reach. I crack my eyes open slowly as feeling returns to my head, and the light blue twinkle of Rarity's magic is dancing around a clean rag as it makes passes across my neck and face. There's a subtle push down on my flank, and I slip away from the counter to sit down on the kitchen floor at her suggestion. As soon as I do, I feel her hoof running up and down my back comfortingly again, and she parts my scraggly bangs to wipe away the sweat from my forehead.

"Thanks..." I mumble, letting my head hang a bit more. This has happened a few times in the last couple days. Luna didn't have the mana to perform any healing spells of her own after I revived Goldfish, and Celestia's still been detained to the castle. Apparently she really went off the deep end when she found out what happened, they've had to call off Day Court for three days now, and almost anything flammable in the throne room had to either be mended or completely replaced. I haven't gotten an ETA for when Luna would return and undo this awful curse, but there's no time that would be soon enough. Every flare-up is absolute agony, I almost wish I were comatose in the hospital again.

Almost.

"Don't mention it darling, though I dare say you may want to consider your next dinnerware set in the near future at this rate." She gives a little huff through her nose, and I'm not entirely sure if that's a chide or a joke. I turn my head a bit to the left and sure enough there's a shattered plate neatly swept up into a pile against the cabinets where it probably fell after I lost concentration of my telekinesis. I sigh again and close my eyes, scolding myself for not having the sense to put it down when I felt the flare-up coming.

A hoof forces my chin up, and Rarity's looking me over from my right. "Ah-ah, none of that, Twilight. I'm sure it's not your fault, and I won't hear a word in otherwise." She gives me a little sympathetic smile, and instead of a rag she has a hairbrush in her magic now, and she takes to my bangs with it, straightening the knots and frazzles from the mess. "Perhaps when you tell me the adventure you went on this time, it should be at Aloe's..." She muses.

"Honestly, I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to tell it. A lot of it is pretty unbelievable." The bat pony clears her throat loudly, and we both glare at her. She doesn't seem to care though, which makes it all the more frustrating. I bite the inside of my cheek, and Rarity goes back to brushing, humming a gentle tune I don't recognize.

"When did you make that, by the way? I noticed it when I first came in, it has... Well, it has 'Twilight' written all over it, if I'm being honest." She throws her head a bit to the right and nods at a knocked-over easel with my painting upside-down, propped against the wall. The curves and spirals are just as entrancing the wrong way up as they are top-to-bottom, and I look away a bit abashedly.

"Oh, um... Well, you see, Fluttershy suggested that maybe I could try painting one of these days. I never tried before, so I figured I'd do something based on Melbourian fractals. I made some modifications, It's based on the Golden Spiral rule instead of direct integers." As I talk about it, the equations I spent hours solving for its' curvature are still fresh in my mind as if I were looking at the solution to them on parchment, and I can visualize exactly the outcome of the lines they would create in my head. It nips at my brain to remember more and more, but I'm able to press the spastic urges my mind keeps sending me back down with the help of the magical sedative.

Rarity moves on to the top of my head, parting my mane and brushing the hair back. It feels nice, if a bit more intimate than I'm used to, even with my friends. I don't voice that concern though, I appreciate the moderate trickle of dopamine that numbs my mind in a better-feeling way than any cure-all ever could. I just focus on the soft bristles against my mane and fur, and I let my head rest against Rarity's chest beside me with a content sigh while she works her magic.

"Where's Spike, by the way?" She asks, and the content trance I was just settling into is immediately shattered. The universe reminding me that I don't deserve any serenity in my life, I guess. I'm getting used to that.

"We had a fight." I say, taking in a big breath as I regretfully pull myself back off of her and sit up by myself. She tilts her head a bit and stops brushing, and I let the breath out slowly. "Not really a fight, he just... I mean I just-" My brow creases as I try to think of how to word how exactly I've managed to upset him in the multitude of ways in the last week.

"It's alright Twilight, not right now, I understand." Rarity interrupts my thought process and pulls me into a hug. It takes me a minute to realize I'm being comforted, but once I catch up to it I somehow feel even worse than before for being given such an easy out. I can't tell her what happened until the Guards are gone and Luna tells me so, but that's not what's stopping me from forming the words. Somewhere deep down I know he's trying his best to help me, but at some fundamental level we're at odds. I need to know more, I need to help, always, no matter what, even if it runs me into the ground. He sees that and wants me to look out for myself, but-

Rarity squeezes me tighter, and I realize I've been sniffling into her shoulder. "S- sor-"

"Ah, we agreed none of that, didn't we?" She interrupts me again, and wraps a forehoof around my neck and pats the back of my head. In my younger years I'd retort that I never agreed to anything, but in my infinite wisdom since meeting her and the others I decide to accept the act of sympathy and nuzzle into her chest fluff, holding my eyes closed and my face low.

"He knows I love him, right?" I ask weakly, forcing myself to stay composed as I think of my purple draconic assistant. He's with Luna of all ponies, probably in Canterlot right now. He didn't want to talk to me after everything that happened, but Luna did tell me he'd asked her to tell me he just 'needed a bit' and that he was sorry to 'bail on me.' I tried asking her more, but she's about as upset with me as he is, and kept our discussion to a brief list of things not to do until I'd heard from her again before teleporting me and a hoof full of guards several miles away and straight to the library.

"Of course he does, dear, you're the most important pony he has. Well, besides maybe myself, of course~" She giggles, but I'm not feeling it and I sink down a bit lower into my own thoughts. "Come now, dearie, I'm sure whatever happened you'll work it out. If he had upset you you'd forgive him, right?"

I open my eyes as she asks, though for no good reason. I think about it seriously; If he'd somehow convinced Luna to not involve me even knowing what it would mean to me, would I forgive that? It's a harsh truth to try and eek out of a hypothetical like that, but I could understand what he was trying to do. I wouldn't have been happy, but...

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I would." I mutter. We both sit there for a minute or two, before Rarity starts humming that calming rhythm again and returns to brushing my mane.

"-OFFA' ME!"

I bolt awake, jumping out of my bed and looking up and to the right, near the large window beside my bed. My heart's pumping and I feel a surge of adrenaline as I see two figures grappling at each other in the darkness, their silhouettes outlined against the starry night behind them. Without a second thought I send a flurry of hurried stunning bolts their way, hoping for accuracy by volume. I assume I hit at least one, because in the brief moments between the flash of my horn and the ensuing silence that followed, there was no movement from either of them.

I cast a light spell on myself and the upper half of my horn begins to emit a soft white glow, illuminating my bedroom, and along with it a rainbow-maned pegasus and a bat pony tangled in a pretzel on my floor. I hear the pop! of a spell going off as the unicorn casts what I presume will be a Ziln's Haste or a featherweight spell and starts bolting up the stairs. The floor rumbles a bit beneath my hooves as the earth pony guard tramples over downstairs and takes a post somewhere in the middle of the library. They're not the same guards from this afternoon, they changed shifts as soon as the sun set, though the bat pony's personality (or lack thereof) was strikingly similar to the stoicism of her predecessor.

I sigh and wrap the both of them in my telekinesis, pulling them apart less-than-gracefully. After they're separated I reach out with my magic and flip on my bedside lamp so I can get a good look at the multicolor break-and-enter pegasus with my best annoyed mother look; One eyebrow raised, lips pursed and one forehoof tapping at the wooden floor. It has the intended effect, and Rainbow's mouth hangs half-open for a few seconds, then closes as she awkwardly fidgets and casts her eyes downward. I keep it up for a few more seconds before the other unicorn reaches us, switching his gaze between them and me before he huffs his annoyance and returns to his post downstairs after casting a quick dispelling abjuration on the bat pony, who quickly marches over and starts to restrain Dash.

"Stop, you're going too far." I say flatly as I walk up to the two of them.

"Tch." Probably the first reaction I've seen from the mare, no doubt because of her bruised ego, but she stows the bindings and returns to her favorite darkest corner of the room, melding into the shadows. I wind together a weak Aville's Restoration and press my horn against Dash, and the magical paralysis drains from her body as she ruffles her feathers and shivers head to tail. A second later she flaps her wings a few times to get herself to a standing position, knocking a couple scrolls loose from my nightstand and rocking Owlowiscious's empty perch with the wind.

"Heeeeey, I was just, uh, checkin' out all the latches, makin' sure nopony could break in! Looks like you left your bedroom one unlocked, big security risk, you're welcome!" She starts rambling, but the eyebrow raises again and she shrinks down under its' soul-piercing weight. "Alright, I maybe, uh, wanted to come see how you were holding up?" She followed up a bit less sheepishly, but it's still not the truth. The hoof starts tapping.

"Alright, listen, I just wanted to make sure none of those freaky night guards were sucking your blood in the night or casting any mind-control rituals on you, alright?" She glances towards the dark corner of the room, but the shade inhabiting it doesn't even flinch. There is a pair of red eyes that peer back from the shadows, though, and for just a second I think I see her flash her fangs at Dash.

"Nope, just me and my good friends, uh..." I remember that I only know three of Luna's guards names, and none of them are present. "...Yeah, just sleeping, which most ponies do in the middle of the night, especially when they're on rainstorm patrol the next day." I take a jab at her, knowing full well that she's responsible for keeping the skies clear on weekends. She winces a little bit, but I drop the hardflank attitude and give her a small hug. "Thanks for checking on me, sorry you got tackled breaking in."

She laughs at that, returning the hug. Hearing her laugh makes me giggle, and hearing me giggle makes her laugh a bit more, so we sat there for a little while chuckling to ourselves in the moonlight. After a minute we calm down and take a step back from each other, letting the silence back in. She shifts her weight back and forth her two forehooves in contemplation, then leans back in, whispering as quietly as a lesser force of chaos like her can, "Really, do you need me to bust you outta here? I can totally get Pinkie and-"

I start giggling again. She's serious, and I don't mean to make her feel silly, but the fact that she's serious is what makes it funny. Even knowing I was being watched by royal elite night guard, Rainbow waited until the dead of night and tried to sneak in through my bedroom window to help me escape as if I were a damsel in some fantasy story. "I never thought I'd say this, but you've been reading too much, Dash." I giggle again. She's got a confused, half-annoyed look on her face, but I pull her in for another hug.

"Hey, I don't mean to make it weird, but... Why all the hugs?" She asks, but once again returns the hug, if a bit more awkwardly.

"I was just thinking about your Element, and how much it suits you." I answer cryptically. I feel her head move around a bit as her critical thinking skills crank into overdrive, and I chuckle a bit again as I let her out of the second hug. She brushes a forehoof over the other and idly rubs them together, looking around the room for her next sentence. "I'm okay, Dash, really. You should go home and get some sleep, I'll be here when you're off tomorrow. Probably, anyways." I half reassure her. She gives me a hard look-over, but she sighs and lets her shoulders relax as she's reassured that I'm not under duress or in danger.

She gives me a nod and turns back towards my window, pressing on it gently until the old hinges squeak open. Three guesses what alerted the bat pony?

"I'll drop by on my way to HQ in the morning, if that's cool? And I'm totally checking for bite marks." She deadpans.

"That's fine, I'm sure I'll be up by then, as long as nopony else wakes me up by breaking into the library after hours," I chide, shooing her. I'm not sure if she's serious about the bite marks thing, it's hard to tell with her sometimes, but with a showpony's grin and a flap of her wings she darts off into the night sky. I watch her quickly recede into a speck of Luna's night sky for a moment before closing- and latching- the window behind her. Really, would it kill her to use a door?

I slowly canter over to my bed, picking up some of the scrolls and putting them back on the nightstand. One got tossed into Spike's bed, and I feel that longing sensation as I realized this is the longest we've been apart in years. It's only for a little while, he just needs some time to himself. Maybe I do, too.

I deposit the scrolls and parchment back on their rightful nightstand and slide back into bed, ignoring the bat pony creepily watching me while I sleep. I turn onto my side and face the other way, and I let the fuzzy feeling of comfort Dash brought with her carry me off to sleep. Today was better than yesterday, maybe tomorrow will be better than today, and if it is, maybe things will go back to normal soon.

11 - Crazy Pony

CRAZY PONY

My dreams the last couple of days have been... Strange. Not quite in a way that they're unquantifiable or unexplainable like many ponies' dreams are, It's just less creative or warped than they usually present themselves, even for me. It's more akin to memories and reconstructed situations I've read or heard about secondhoof; A changeling attack on Canterlot, encountering a Hydra in the Everfree, talking to Papers in the market- It all just blends into a mesh of possibility and experience so strange that the line in the sand between them begins to blur.

It's over in a flash, thankfully, and I slowly wake up with a clear head. That won't last long unabated, so like I've done the last two mornings I immediately whip up an Aville's Cure-All and target myself with it. I sure am getting a lot of mileage out of that lately, I don't think I've cast this spell so often since my last year in Canterlot Magic Academy. That accelerated Advanced Thaumaturgy final was the first and last time I pulled a 96-hour study session.

The effect of the spell is nearly immediate, and the familiar tingling numbness spreads through my body, dampening the would-be flare-up of incomprehensible mind-shattering pain my new temporal lobe comes with. I try not to think too much about it, existentialism first thing in the morning rarely makes for a good start to the day, I know that even without neural transplants.

I finally force open my eyelids and see sunlight filling the library beneath the alcove of my room, much to the shagrin of the now-pegasus guard hoofing through what looks to be an atlas on a side table with a dampened interest. I must have slept through their shift change, but given that it's Luna's Night Guard that's hardly a surprise, they likely didn't make a sound all night.

My eyes fall on Spike's empty bed, and I'm not sure I'm ready to dig up that line of thought yet either so I roll over to my other side facing the window. The bat pony Rainbow Dash got into a tussle with last night isn't in her corner. Either she got bored and moved or she's on the same rotation as the other two or three ponies cycling in and out of here. It would make more sense for there to be a stagger, having a singular moment of mass change in stations all at once is the perfect hole in any security system anypony with ill intent would be happy to exploit.

I groan as Celestia's daylight pounds against my eyelids, forcefully suggesting I get up for the day. I suck in a big breath and arch my back before throwing myself into a sitting position, leaning forward over my haunches and just sort of existing for a minute. I hear the faint clink and tinks of armor as the guard ponies register that I'm awake and glance in my direction, but I don't pay it any more mind in hopes they won't in return. My hopes are dashed as I hear the quiet wingbeats of the guard below, followed by a firm metallic ta-clink of his horseshoes touching down on the floor of my alcove, a gentle breeze stirring the fresh air my tree home so generously provides.

"Twilight Sparkle, the Nightmother has commanded to prepare you for departure once you're coherent." His brassy tone wipes some of the lingering sleep from my senses, and I suck in another large breath, hold it for a moment, then slowly let it out just like Cadence taught me as a filly.

"I'm awake, but I'll need a few minutes to get to 'coherent,' if that's alright with her royal nightmotherliness?" I give him a half-amused side-eye, but he doesn't seem to find the humor in it and just continues to stare blankly back at me.

All of Luna's guards are stalwart deadpans, got it.

I've got one last sigh in me and I give it my all, even adding a little head roll for emphasis as I stretch my neck with a satisfying pop! I pull the blanket away and swing my hind legs off the bed, backing away until I'm forced to bear my own weight on all fours and solidify the terrible truth that I am, in fact, up for the day.

That seems to satisfy him, as he flutters his wings and hops back off the ledge to the lobby below, hovering his way to the ground and leaving me a minute amount of privacy to conduct my morning ritual. I make my way downstairs the more conventional, architecturally-intended way, and over the span of about three seconds I have the makings for a fresh brew of grounded coffee evenly measured and in place. It takes another two to put the items away and start the apparatus that will eventually deliver me to that sweet state of 'coherent,' and I head to the bathroom in the meantime. The only room in the Library I can actually be alone, or at least I assume so. I could cast a detection spell to see if there are any magical sensors or scrying spells in place, but honestly? I think I'd rather live in ignorant bliss even if there were.

I pick up the toothbrush in my hoof and wrap the toothpaste container in my telekinesis, applying the perfect jolt of force against it to apply just enough paste to evenly cover the bristles without the goop trailing over the edge. It's a silly ritual, but I've done it since I was old enough to magically manipulate things, it was one of my first real tests of how finely I could manipulate objects in a telekinetic field. I punctured more than a few toothpaste containers as a filly, but mom and dad seemed to understand that it was just an expected part of raising a unicorn, having both been raised in all-unicorn houses themselves, not to mention Shining probably used more force than necessary when he was learning his fundamental; it's a little quirk he still has to date, I think. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him cast anything but a Barrier spell in a long time, and those benefit from overexerting. Huh, I guess it kind of makes sense why he was such a natural with them now that I think about it.

I'm pulled out of my tangent thoughts by the smell of freshly grinded and brewed black coffee permeating the air. I let the smell light up my endorphins and with a quick swish of water I trot nose-first back out and towards the kitchen, it's just moments away now, I can literally taste it. Okay, well, not literally. The opposite of literally, actually. I can categorically and with great enthusiasm mentally recreate the sensation that drinking a fresh cup of coffee will bring me when I drink it. Happy?

When I open my eyes, however, there's a small hiccup in my plans, literally, and that's in its' correct context because in my kitchen stands Pinkie Pie rocking back and forth on all four hooves almost nose-to-nose with the pegasus guard with a mug of coffee on the counter next to her, bouncing at irregular intervals. My heart drops and I feel the chills run all throughout my body as the calamities that could befall this world if those two were to come into contact rise from the depths of my mind, and I'm certain it's not my ailment on this one. I try to keep my composure, but two shakes of a tail and a floppy left ear give Pinkie the foresight to wheel around and gasp before I can mentally plan for how to extrapolate that mug from the pink party pony.

"TWILIGHT!" She screams, again literally. Oh no, I'm too late. One moment she's in front of the pegasus, and in the time between my eyes closing and them opening again my vision is encompassed entirely of bubblegum-pink mane and Pinkie's almost comically-dilated eyes as she presses her nose and forehead against mine.

"Quiet here was just telling me all about your adventure into the Everfree Forest and the time travel with Star Swirl the Bearded and did you really use a Soulgem and if you did does that make you a zombie-pony now or does that not happen for like a gazillion years OH OH He said you snore REALLY loud too, that's okay, I snore too! Except it's more fun, like this!" She dives to my side and I reach out to catch her in my magic before she slams against the floor in a panic, but I'm too slow. Instead of the floor I expected beside me, though, there's a red and gold couch that has a striking resemblance to the one Rarity always seems to have on hand. That wasn't there less than three seconds ago.

Pinkie, in standard defiance of logic and reason, throws herself across it and immediately falls asleep with a forehoof over her eyes, with her head rolling off the back of the hoof rest. She breathes in a huge breath, and as she exhales the blaringly loud trumpeting sound of an Elephant fills the library. I blink, slowly, which turns out to be a mistake because now she's on the ceiling with a jackhammer.

"PIN- I mean, Pinkie, we've talked about what could happen if you drank Coffee!" One worry substitutes itself for another, however, as my mind informs me that I missed the part where Pinkie knows everything. "And who told you all that?!"

She raises the Jackhammer over her head and she herself instead begins vibrating, traveling across the ceiling as she does so, and I have to crane my neck to watch her carefully, making a concentrated effort to not blink again, no matter what.

With a heavy vibrato in her voice, she yells back "I just said, silly, Quiet told me~e~e~e!"

I glance over at the pegasus guard, and he stares back blankly at me, offering no further input.

With the impromptu construction work happening on the inside of my roof and my hopes for saving Ponyville from a caffeine-jacked Pinkie Pie lost to the wind, I back away a few steps, then turn and trot into the kitchen to pour myself a mug. As I pass the counter, though, I see the mug that's already there is empty and bone-dry. That's weird, but weird is normal with her. I shrug and raise the coffee pot into the air with my magic, and I confirm that it's still full to the brim. I glance back to the pony jackhammer dancing across my ceiling, then back to the pot, and shake my head as I discard the line of thought in favor of drinking my fill and seeing what the pegasus wanted with me. Pinkie will be down soon. Maybe.

The taste is bitter and very potent, and I scrunch my nose up a bit as it washes over my tongue and down my throat, still scalding hot and burning just a touch on the way down. It feels fantastic. Alertness floods into my sedated mind and lets me think clearly without the natural overwhelm of the intrusive thoughts, and my tail jitters a bit while I roll my shoulders and take the first real breath of the day.

And then it hits me. Pinkie didn't drink anything, she smelled it. Dry mug, strong aroma, particulate scattering in accordance with entropy carries trace amounts of the stuff into the air and into her system. By the sisters if this is what happens when she just smells it I don't want to think about-

"Fixed your roof!" Pinkie announces from below me, her head poking out from my forehooves and smiling brightly back up at me.

"Waugh!" I shout lamely, trampling over my own hooves as I attempt to simultaneously step away from her while not stepping on her, the remaining half a mug of coffee spilling into the air in the process as I lose concentration of my magic. Time slows to a crawl and I hear the comically drawn-out gasp of pinkie below me. My hooves as they fail me and I begin to trip to my side, and the miracle liquid flies through the air and towards the ground where Pinkie's still laying. I'm scared that she'll get burned if it lands on her, but in an even more horrifying prospect I see her open her mouth as a drop of it is on a direct crash course with her face. In the final moment before it all comes crashing down, I feel my horn automatically light up, casting a familiar spell that can prevent the destruction of reality as I know it.

I fall hard on my side, and it knocks the wind out of me for a few seconds as my relatively frail body recuperates from the blow. I'm not sure if some of the coffee spilled on me or if it's the adrenaline, but I feel an unnatural heat dancing across my skin. I pat at the feeling with a forehoof, but there's no relief from the sensation. I sit up and shake my head, looking over at my friend. "Sorry Pinkie, I don't know what I was... doing..." I trail off. Pinkie Pie is still laying on the floor, mouth wide open and awaiting a drop of the all-mighty caffeine to reach her, but it's still flying through the air. Or rather, it's still stuck in the air.

The world around me is in sepia, all semblance of color gone. It's as if the light is slowly draining out of it, fading to black like a burning picture. The dark brown liquid stuck in the air slowly grows darker and darker, until it's a solid black. The surroundings begin to darken too, and I quickly lose track of the borders of the planks beneath my hooves, the detail of the objects around me, and the only sound is the rising ringing in my ears screaming a high-pitched cry as if in some kind of rebellion. The sound snaps me back to my senses in the bleak and rapidly fading stand-still world, and adrenaline comes rushing in for the second time in as many minutes, pushing me into action.

What the buck what the buck what the buck is happening?!

In a panic and with no other direction on how to focus my efforts I lurch forward and attempt to bat the single drop heading towards Pinkie out of the air, but as I do it's like moving through molasses. My body responds fine, but it's like I'm wading through water instead of air. When my hoof does reach the liquid falling in place, though, it's as if it's bolted into place. I press harder, and it responds with the tiniest nudge, but it's in the realm of millimeters. The light is still fading, and the heat is building on the surface of my skin now, I can't help but begin to pat and itch all over in an attempt to locate the source of the awful feeling.

With no recourse and no idea what to do, I begin to roll on the ground as quickly as the weighted air will allow, as if there were an invisible fire burning that I might be able to put out. It doesn't help, and I begin to panic as the heat slowly ebbs into pain, and a quick frenzied look at the world around me confirms that all that remains is a fading white outline of the shafts of light that were shining in through the windows, everything else too faded to see now as darkness claims the building, and all of us with it. There's the last vestiges of white as I try my hardest to remain calm. Don't panic, the worst thing you can do is panic. Easier said than done, though, and the world slips into a realm of infinite, absolute black.

The beating in my chest is getting harder to control. I can feel it but I can't see or hear it. I don't hear the sound of my hooves against any floor. My chest starts to heave as my breaths are quicker and more forced. Stay calm. I try to cast a light spell, but I can't even feel the spell form, and the darkness continues to pervade everything. Teleport. Cyr's Seeing. Light. Aville's Greater Restoration.

Nothing works.

I scream. Logical thought has left me and I begin to hyperventilate, squeezing my eyes shut and rolling around frantically on the ground, lashing out at the darkness in a futile attempt to find something, anything- And I wince as my left forehoof collides hard with what feels like hard wood with a sickening crick! I can't see if it was my hoof or the surface that cracked, but between the sharp pain cracking through my leg and the warm wet feeling that falls onto my other hoof as I cradle it against my chest, the higher functioning parts of my mind that still work inform me that I lost that exchange.

I can't tell if my eyes are open or closed, but I try to squeeze them shut anyways. I curl into a ball and just try to keep oxygen coming in, cradling my likely fractured hoof, confused and crying and screaming and burning and being shaken and somepony's yelling and-

My bloodshot eyes shoot open and my chest is heaving massive shaky breaths. The ringing is gone, and my skin doesn't feel like I'm boiling from the inside anymore, and there's pink. There's Pink! There's a massive weight on top of me preventing me from rolling anymore, but as my senses return I quickly make out the form of Pinkie laying on all fours in front of me. Her mane's deflated and she looks incredibly concerned, it's an uncommon and unsettling look to see on her. I blink the tears out of my eyes as best I can and turn my head upwards to see a massive earth pony in black and purple chitin armor pinning me to the ground with his barrel and forehooves. Oh, not a huge fan of that.

I take another half a second to empty my mind before the spell, then blink out of existence from beneath him and reappear about a foot to the left. I glance right and see him tumble forward, but with trained reflexes he's able to catch himself on a knee and rebalance, head snapping over to me suspiciously.

"What happened-"

"Are you okay-"

"Twilight Sparkle-"

The three of us all say at once, cutting each other off. It's at that point my eye twitches, and a deep stinging pain from my left forehoof begins to reassert its' control over my attention. I look down and gasp, there's a massive crack in the keratin at the base of it, and a small amount of blood is trickling out onto the wood floor. Their gazes follow mine, and there's a few moments of silence before I look up at them, still staring at my wound.

"What happened?" I ask again, swallowing down the panic trying to rear its' head at the sight of my own blood. Not right now, I need to stay calm. Everything's fine, there's a perfectly reasonable explanation here. The earth pony opens his mouth, but Pinkie's faster to respond as she shifts to face me, her mane still the flat, deflated shadow of itself.

"You tripped and started falling, then you lit up your horn and did your crazy teleporting magic, but when you came back you started kicking and screaming and-" She looks over towards the cabinets, and I follow her gaze until I spot a crack in the one beneath the sink, along the edge near the latch.

I hadn't teleported until just now, and there was at least thirty seconds of coherency between the horrible experience I just had and when I started rolling on the ground. Pinkie and the Pegasus guard hadn't moving, neither was anything else. A nightmare realm where light and color faded to darkness, and randomly lashing out? I glance around and confirm that the pegasus guard is nowhere to be seen.

"Pinkie," I start, leaning forward and cupping her chin with my intact hoof, leveling my eyes to hers. "You're absolutely, 100% certain I teleported when I was falling?" I ask, trying my best to not pressure either specific answer. Not that she would lie to me, but impartiality is a fundamental principle of the scientific method.

"Uh-huh." She nods her head against my hoof, but she still looks concerned. I let the hoof go lax and stare down at the fracture in my left forehoof, the impact in the cabinet, and the blood slowly pooling on the floor. There's only one explanation.

"I assure you that your mental state is... Within acceptable parameters of deviation." Luna furrows her brow at me, then adds "As it usually is."

Okay, going to ignore that.

"Princess, I'm telling you, something's wrong. What else could explain the gap in my memory, the lucid delusions? How I acted towards Spike? I really think I'm-" I stop myself, leaning forward and instead whispering "I think I'm a crazy pony!"

She still has her stoic and distant persona up, probably because she's still mad, but looking down at me as we sit across the table from each other I can see there's some sign of sympathy as she huffs and her expression softens. Her shoulders and wings loosen up just a bit and she judges me silently for a few moments.

We're in my dining room of all places. My old dining room, back at home- My old home- in Canterlot. The order from Luna was for her guards to escort me by chariot back to Canterlot at daybreak and await a summons to the castle. That worked out pretty well for me, because I think it's possible I'm losing grip on my sanity, which could be disastrous if I cast the wrong spell at the wrong time.

I'm trying to keep the finer parts of my concerns quiet so that mom doesn't hear through the floorboards. She came up with an excuse to be upstairs when Luna showed up and started staring at me silently, declining any offerings of tea or biscuits to soften her mood. Bless her for trying. She's too big for any of our furniture, so she elected to sit on the floor in front of the elevated dining room table. Even on the tall seat I'm still shorter than her by nearly a head.

Now it's just the two of us, my mother, and a few guards stationed outside the door to the house, and I don't think Luna's taking me seriously.

"Twilight Sparkle, you are a great deal eccentric, unorthodox, and at times, yes, a bit... Unhinged, but-!" She cuts me off before I can get a word in edge-wise, "I have seen many a crazy pony, and you are not one of them, I assure you." She lowers her head a bit and leans on the table, looking back at my level. The table creeks in protest under the weight of the moon goddess, but stands strong.

"The 'gap' that you describe was merely a blur in perception, though you were awake you were not coherent in your panic. Many ponies in moments of great stress or mania will fail to remember actions they took during it, you should be aware of that." She keeps staring at me expectantly, and I nod. She's right, but...

"This is different!" I insist, pushing the envelope but trying my best to do so in a respectful tone.

"Different in what way?"

I stop, and I furrow my own brows. How was it different? Surely I of all ponies was above the possibility of not remembering myself rolling on the ground in a completely panicked state, because that only happens to other ponies? Was that my line of reasoning? I know it's different, but...

"I- It just is, alright?" I offer, but when I look up at her she doesn't say anything, and I slowly look back down at the table between us, my eyes tracing the simple blue-on-white pattern printed onto the linen. It makes sense, she's probably right. I got spooked, teleported on instinct, and panicked.

"It is most unlike you to make proclamations without evidence, Twilight. You've been under a great deal of stress this last week, in many parts due to our own negligence. For that, I offer my apologies." I blink a couple times and bring my face up to look at her, but she's looking over at a family picture framed on the other side of the dining room, not ready to look back yet. "It is understandable that in such a prolonged period of stress, somepony would mistakenly act out against the ones she loves."

My mind flashes to Spike, the cold rain, the feeling of physical exhaustion, his fear as I was snarling at him. That's something I'd never ever do in my right mind, not in a thousand years, no matter how tired or cranky or stressed... But I did. Maybe I just don't want to believe that something as small as stress would cause me to snap at him, or act violently, or maybe I don't want to have an easy out like 'Oh, sorry, I was under a lot of stress.' If that's the best I have to say, how can I expect him to forgive me?

There's a light pressure on my recently-mended hoof, and with a start I look down to see a dark blue hoof over mine. I look up and Luna looks back at me with a small but distant smile playing on her lips, and her words were much softer this time.

"Believe me, Twilight, I understand what it is like to act against those you love under the pressure of expectation and duty. He will forgive you, as will I... In time." The smile fades as she purses her lips a bit, then she raises her head and withdraws the comforting hoof from my own with a deep draw of air through her nose. Composure regained, her voice returned to normal and I just sit there in awe as the realization of what she's really talking about hits me.

"I... Thanks Pr- Luna. I think... I think you're probably right, and I probably needed to hear that." I look back down at the linen, lost in thought again as my mind catalogues and files away the entire encounter to play it back later, whether I want it to or not.

"You are most welcome, Twilight. However," She rises from the table, angling her head down slightly to prevent her horn from scraping against the ceiling. "We must be away, preparations must be made for your healing before I raise the moon, lest we postpone it another day. And before then, the nobles of the northern Pranceway district demanded an afternoon audience despite Day Court being barred save emergencies..." She grumbled. I chuckle a little bit, remembering her disdain for politics, but something about that catches my ear.

"You're holding Day Court? What about Night Court?" I ask without thinking.

She gives me a sideways look, then sighs as she makes her way to the door. I hop off the seat and walk with her as she answers.

"Night Court sees nary a dozen ponies per week since our return, Day Court remains the most important interaction between the Crowns and the commonpony. With sister..." She pauses, seeing my ears flatten at the mention of my mentor. "... Indisposed, it is required of us to take her stead."

I look up at her and I see the sting in her eyes, and I wonder how awful it must feel to only hold public importance when the princess- the other princess- is away. For the similarities we share, that's not one I've ever felt nearly as much as she has. I was born and raised a prodigy, but for Luna...

"I'm sure everypony appreciates what you do, especially this." I suddenly pipe up, surprised at how easily the words come. The lunar goddess beside me looks down at me for a moment with a curious look, and I shrink under her gaze, worried I said the wrong thing. I don't speak for everypony, why would I imply that I know how everypony feels? That was stupid, I should apologize and-

I'm shocked out of my mental ramblings as Luna leans down and presses her nose into my cheek, nuzzling my mane for just a brief moment before pulling away and turning to the door. She ignites her horn and grabs the handle in her magic, pulling it open and heading to walk outside.

"Thank you, Twilight. Perhaps we needed to hear that as well."

She stands in the doorway for another moment without looking at me, then continues outside pulling the door closed behind her. I stand in the living room with the lingering phantom feeling of the contact dancing across my cheek. There's another, stranger feeling building up, but it's lighter and in my chest instead of the sinking pit in my stomach I've been used to.

"Honey, what was that?" I hear from behind me. I spin around, and my mother's on the stairs leading to the second floor, peeking around the corner with her eyes wide and mouth open. I start to open mine, only to find I'm also wearing the exact same expression. I shake the stupid look off my face with a smile and glance back at the door, feeling like maybe I made a friend during this whole experience after all.

"Good news, mom. I'm not crazy."

12 - Taking The Reins

Author's Note

Some of the next couple chapters will touch on magic in-universe, including Rune translation, ritual casting, and magic harmonization. If that isn't your cup of tea, feel free to skip the funkily-formatted segments.

If it is your cup of tea, nerd out :twilightsmile:

12 - Taking The Reins

TAKING THE REINS

Twilight Sanctuary. Eclipse. Recursion. Sound Barrier.

Major runes:
Kroe (Recursive) - Kroe - Oso/Mité (Major) - Ri/Flow (Modified) - Lunaris
Energy required, nearly 5 Vis. Casting time ranging from three to five hours depending on mana output capacity.

The premises for a magical sensory deprivation containment chamber, invented nearly 1200 years ago and deemed even then to be too cruel for public use.

The perception of time for a creature within is skewed by Twilight Sanctuary, their view of the outside world obfuscated into a perpetual vision of dusk-like colors. Eclipse forms a rounded barrier of night, absorbing all light and reflecting none, allowing nopony sight in or out. Recursion substantiates the magical nullification field, mana expended within generates a painful feedback loop in the caster until their wellspring destroys itself; The more mana used, the more severe the backlash. The Sound Barrier is but a personal touch, so any detainee cannot utilize their proximity to our station to eavesdrop. In addition, silence over an indeterminable amount of time results in frequent paranoid delusions.

I stand alone amid the ruins of my painstakingly-woven wards and barriers, soaking in a dim moonlight whilst I study the ground for clues as to how they all could have possibly been overcome so easily. Several lesser machinations of the spells were well beyond the spellcraft of any unicorn alive in this age, insurmountable via teleportation, scrying, or enchantment.

"Why do you persist so, my shooting star...?" I mutter, eyes tracing dead and singed patches of grass, destroyed by my distorted spells and pressed into the earth by the riveted detainment plates, long since hauled away.

I glance to my left where Star Swirl's portal once hovered for a brief moment and I feel my chest flutter, my teeth grind, and the space behind my eyes ache. I close them quickly and rub my pastern against each in turn, hoping to find some relief from the conflicting feelings rising inside me. In my unorganized thoughts I let my gaze fall to the ground beneath me, the spot where Twilight fell and took what could have been her last breath. The innocent, deluded fool.

She is no student of ours, alas we do owe her a great debt that has yet to be repaid. Sister favors her as a daughter, though such a one-sided reverence from the mare raises great concern for the eventuality of her ascension to Archemage. If sister’s visions are correct, which I have never known them not to be, a scant few years are all that separate her from wielding power nearly matched to ours. I trust in Twilight, I believe in her good nature, but if misguided by blind ambition and spite-fueled agendas…

“Ignorant FOAL!” I yell into the empty clearing, hanging my head low. The edge of my mouth is twitching and I need to squeeze my eyes shut to keep the traitorous tears at bay. He deserves no sympathy, he’s fallen perhaps even further than I in pursuit of nothing less than treason. He will find no leniency in my judgement; If he assumed otherwise, our last encounter made it perfectly clear. Should he reappear, I shall rend him asunder without hesitation nor mercy.

I cast my eyes to the sky, the tears and mourning already becoming a distant memory in the face of my bold proclamation. As a princess to the throne of Equestria, I shall perform my duties to excellence. Only when Equestria is safe shall I mourn.

I spot a tiny spec half a mile up, then shoot a thin streak of azure light into the air. It breaks into a starburst just above the canopies of the surrounding trees before Quiet Skies descends to me at breakwing speeds. Within moments he lands on the ground beside me. Acceptable swiftness on his behalf.

“Nightmother?” He asks, bowing his head in expectation of his orders.

“You are to relieve Spark and Venom from Twilight’s detachment at dawn, when she wakes escort her to her home in Canterlot via my chariot and await further instructions. I shall inform her family of her impending arrival. She is not to leave Canterlot until I send word. In the meantime, I shall interrogate the pegasus. I grow tired of sister’s methods, the time has come for action.” That last quip was more for myself than him, though he seems inspired as he launches into the air, corkscrewing around a cloud towards Ponyville. Within four seconds he’s beyond the broad horizon of trees and clouds.

I charge my horn for a long-distance teleport straight back to Canterlot with a grim look of determination. There’s a mare who has answers I will extract, one way or another. Sister doesn't need to know.

With a whip-CRACK! I blink out of existence, leaving the field empty and barren once more.

Cyr's Seeing. Pathfind, modified. Sustain. Celestia's Chronomancy.

Major runes:
Verita - Verita - Elu/Lov(Minor), modified - Verita/Solaris(Major)

Princess Celestia sat silent and still amid a multi-layered arcane network of advanced scrying, divination, and custom-crafted spellwork. They lit up the smooth stone floor with an eerie gray glow, bathing the perfectly circular chamber walls and her weathered coat in the magical radiation of the powerful mana currents pulsing through them. If one were to look closely enough, they would be able to see physically manifested clumps of energy as they approached the relay runes interlocking each matrix, before they were dissipated and absorbed into the rune and sent coursing forward to be recycled into the next circle.

Her eyes were wide open, a swirling mist of white and gray glossing them over from the inside as the infinite possibilities of the universe were made plain for her to see. Many powerful casters had created fantastic and awe-inspiring magic through the ages, but this was her magnum opus; Chronomancy. The ability to divine the optimal actions at optimal times to result in a specific outcome. In laypony's terms, the art of magically creating artificial luck. While no course of action or outcome is ever assured, a glimpse into the future in just the right place at worst allows her to circumvent disaster, or in the best of circumstances turn a losing hand into a winning one. It was this very magic that had led her to send her student Twilight Sparkle away all those years ago. She hadn't wanted to let go, but it was the way things had to be if she were to truly prosper.

Why, then, did she not foresee this? Her own student murdered by a madpony from ages past, his resurfacing in ponyville of all places. Why would he resort to wanton murder now, after all this time? There was something missing. Star Swirl despised her, hated her, even, but even in his maddest delusions he retained his twisted morals. Did he see Twilight as a threat, a foreign agent he couldn't outmaneuver? Perhaps he has indeed gone mad after centuries of doing mother knows what to preserve his mortal form across the ages, perhaps the answer is as simple as his desire to hurt me at any cost.

No, that was wishful thinking. There was more to it, much more. There was a goal, an agenda. Until she knew exactly how to act to finally rid this nation of the genius gone renegade, she would not leave this room. Sustain would preserve her appearances and satiate her physical necessities for as long as she maintained concentration on the network of matrices. Sleep, food, and comfort were no longer factors. At the rate she replenished her mana, even a spell network of this magnitude could be perpetuated for weeks before she would finally succumb to mana deficiency.

As she pondered the tribulations the future had in store for her and her kingdom, the rising sound of armored hoof falls came to her ears, her heightened alicorn senses forewarning their approach from nearly two chambers over. She withdrew her consciousness from the spell, though continued to perpetuate the flow of magic to keep the spell ablaze. The haze of the future faded from her eyes, and she shook her ethereal mane back behind her shoulders and prepared to accept the visitor or visitors, sat upright and tall, a polite smile on her face despite the weariness of her mind.

There were two loud rasps of metal on wood, and then silence as the ponies reached the door.

"You may enter." She called out. As the door opened, though, her eyes widened ever so slightly, her mouth curling into the faintest smile. Stood in the doorway was a very worried-looking unicorn flanked by two Royal Guards, who both gave a deep bow before taking posts at either side of the open doorway. This wasn't part of her plan, but it was a welcome deviation.

"I love you too, mom. I'll come back soon, promise!" I reassure her as I give her and dad the biggest hug I can manage. A Lunar Royal Guard is waiting patiently out front with a Day Guard pegasus to take me to the castle. I insisted I was capable of walking, but once again it was on Luna’s orders.

"You promise me you'll come see our doctor if those headaches keep bothering you, okay? Mister Marrow does great work, I'm sure he'd be able to prescribe you something so you don't need to keep doing... That." Mom gives me a half-concerned half-stern look.

"Honestly, it’s not that bad! Headaches are totally normal when I read too much. I'm sure it'll pass soon," I lie, rubbing a hoof against my other pastern, hoping she doesn't probe any deeper. I've had to cast Aville's twice since I got here this morning to keep the debilitating migraines at bay, and she noticed. Maternal superpowers are next up on my checklist of superpowers of the universe to be unraveled, right below Pinkie sense and modern mail delivery logistics. Because seriously, how do we do that?

Dear Princess Celestia,

Modern parcel, letter, and postcard delivery systems are largely monopolized by privatized pegasus-owned-and-operated corporations, establishing internal logistical routes in attempts to monopolize delivery services in their respective cities and outposts. Likely due to overwork and ethically questionable shift durations, the expected twice-daily inter-city delivery exchanges have risen to nearly half a dozen in the past decade, leading to unionization seeking reform to-

“Twilight, honey?” The voice snaps me back to the present.

“Oh! Sorry, I just got a little lost in thought for a second. I should, uh… Probably get going!” I excuse myself before her or dad’s insightful Twilight Vision (patent pending) can see through the stacking fibs. I back up a couple steps and give them a last awkward smile before turning around and following a pegasus guard who had been patiently waiting at the door for me.

As I step outside into the late afternoon air, I feel myself tense up just a tiny bit after leaving the safe and comfortable atmosphere of my old house. It’s barely enough to notice, but it’s definitely there, and it’s more than a little unsettling. Maybe I should talk to somepony after all this is over…

I don’t have long to sit and think about it though, as once again I’m carried off the street in a royal chariot less than a mile to the castle. Seriously, I can teleport at this range.

It occurs to me that the reason I’m being escorted so closely likely isn’t for my convenience, but like with the Lunar Guard at home I’m instead being watched closely. It makes sense if I think about the potential security risk I am from Luna’s perspective, I guess I can’t blame her. Well, not for this at least.

I shake the annoyance out of my mind, I’m getting bitter lingering on it. I’ve learned to forgive and forget, and even if it’s hard I’m sure I’ll be able to move past all the questionable decisions and moral scruples the princess has displayed the last week.

Or princesses.

I never stopped to consider that Princess Celestia could have also been to blame for how things have turned out. Star Swirl said it himself with very colorful language, she was the problem in his mind. I’m sure it’s a hyper-fixation bred from centuries of distrust and anger, but not listening to him properly and giving him a chance is a mistake I already made once. I’m not going to dismiss him again, even if he is a psychotic murderer.

Wow, I never thought I’d think that thought in this day and age. A murderer. Somepony who actually took the life of somepony else.

I stare at the floor of the chariot for the rest of the short flight, lost in a troubled miasma of thought.

“Welcome back, miss Twilight!”

I jump a little, still lost in thought as I follow the pair of earth ponies toward the Princesses’ private wing of the castle. One of the maids waves to me from the open doorway of a guest suite she’s cleaning with a bright smile on her face. She’s got a familiar cutie mark of three sets of white folded sheets with a standing pressing iron, contrasting gently against her light gray coat.

“Oh, hey miss Press! Thanks, I guess it’s been a while, huh?” I give a little nervous chuckle, but the guards-ponies leading me don’t slow down to let me acknowledge my old acquaintance. I glance back and forth between the two, but she keeps her understanding smile and shoos me away.

“Go on, lil’un, time to talk later. I’ll let Spike know you’re here, he’s been-“ She stops mid sentence, that gentle smile fading as the wrinkles on her face get a bit deeper for just a second before she catches herself. “I’ll… Let him know you’re here. Hurry up, then!”

In all the hustle of the last afternoon I’d almost forgotten he was staying in the Castle. After I talk to Luna I’ll have to sneak away from these guards at least long enough to touch bases with him, assuming he won’t come find me in the meantime. Hopefully he’s calmed down a bit.

“Miss Sparkle,” One of the guards calls after me as I walk past him. I look back at him and he’s stood in front of Princess Celestia’s private study.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, I just kind of assumed we were going to meet with Princess Luna?”

The guard shakes his head and motions to the large, ornate birchwood doors. They’re easily twice my height, and the golden inlay trailing along the edges and angles surrounding a large gem replica of the Sun in the center gives it a massively imposing feeling. I’ve been in the Princess’ study once, when I was a filly and she’d wanted to personally test my wellspring capacity in a safer environment. I can’t remember anything about the inside now, but I do remember it was massive.

The guard raises an armored hoof and rasps it against the door twice, then waits.

“You may enter.” My ears perk up at the sound of the Princess through the doors, and I take a deep breath to calm myself before seeing her. Before I’m ready, the guard presses down on the handle and heaves the massive door on the left wide open, letting the light from the hallway spill into the incredibly dim stone chamber beyond.

There’s a light blue glow of what I presume to be mana so potent it’s coalescing. It’s bright enough to illuminate a head or two up the walls before that, too, fades to gray, then black at a point where I can only assume the ceiling is.

I just barely fail to hold back a wide grin as I lay my eyes on my mentor, heavily entangled with sophisticated arcane craftwork and balancing what seems to be an interwoven divination or scrying spell no less than three or four layers deep. It’s an astounding piece of spellcraft, and it ignites a fire to rush off to the castle’s private library and dig up a dozen tomes on Divination and Rune-based spell matrix studies just to have an excuse to learn more about what it is she’s doing here.

The enthusiasm teeters off quickly when I look at her directly. Her coat is ragged and her eyes are bloodshot. The primaries on her left wing seem like they’re vibrating with some electric build-up, and the rest of her secondaries haven’t been pruned in at least half a week. Her crown and other regalia aren’t on her either, but I see them in a neat pile just to my left beside the door as I take a careful step in. I rub a hoof over the pastern of the other nervously and bow my head a little in an attempt not to stare.

“Come now, Twilight, there’s no need for that.” She calls over to me. I raise my head and she’s smiling kindly, albeit with a bit of amusement dancing in her eyes. It eases my mind seeing the luster return to her face, suddenly looking much more like the Princess I remember. I trot carefully across the threshold and into the center of the room with her, being incredibly careful to not disrupt the leylines of her massive project with a stray hoof or tail.

I stop just in front of her as she turns to face me, lowering her head and nuzzling the side of my face and my neck affectionately. I happily return the gesture, and let my shoulders slack a bit as I’m convinced things are still normal between us. As we pull away from each other the door to the room closes, and we’re jutted into darkness, illuminated only by the soft blue glow of her magic dancing across the floor.

“I was not expecting you, Twilight, though I always welcome your presence. To what do I owe the pleasure?” She seems to relax a bit, offering her wing to me. I approach her and turn to sit beside her, but i suddenly stop and look up at her, puzzled.

“You weren’t? I thought I was going to be talking to Princess Luna, but they-“ I glance at the door, and she follow my gaze for a moment before we look back at each other. “-led me here. I’ve, uh, kind of been surrounded by half a battalion of Lunar Guards for the last three days.”

There’s a thought flashing through her mind, but sans the ever so slight tilt of her head there’s no expression or other give to it. We look at each thoughtfully for a few seconds, and I finish sitting down beside her while she ponders some unknowably deep thought. She must have held her breath while thinking, because she lets out a long sigh before draping her wing over my back and closing her eyes, having reached some understanding. I enjoy the intimate moment for the time I can, but there’s some important stuff to get to.

“Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad to see you again. I was worried you, ah- I mean, I got your letters from Spike, not to imply you wouldn’t be-“ Her wing brushes up and down my back patiently while I try to find the right words. I stop talking and clear my head, trying again from a fresh slate.

“What I mean is I know you’re totally fine, or at least that you don’t need me checking in on you, but, you know, what with the burned scrolls, and the-“ I catch myself, cutting away from my rant into an apologetic silence with a sheepish grin up at my mentor. She looks amused if anything, phew. The last thing I need is to accidentally imply she had a freakout and ignited the throne room then locked herself away from everypony for three days. That’d be insulting!

She doesn’t say anything for a minute, and we both sit there in silence, the quiet hum of her spell resonating off the smooth stone walls the only sound filling the backdrop. Looking from where I am now, the lines beneath her eyes are much more pronounced, and there are dark bags that would give early-rise Luna a run for her money.

“…Princess, are you okay?” I finally push out, my voice cracking a touch at the end. I feel her wing tighten around me a bit after a few seconds, but her expression doesn’t change. Not even one bit, as if she’s got it plastered on like a mask. It doesn’t have the nurturing, caring warmth behind it that it usually has.

My chest tightens up, and I feel a dull ache in the back of my throat rising up. I manage to swallow it down, and I gently nudge the wing far enough for me to turn and face her directly. I’m almost scared to ask again, but she’s always been there for me. If anypony in all of Equestria is qualified to be a good friend for her right now, in this very moment, it’s me.

“Princess, what’s wrong?”

The mask cracks. And from that crack, for the first time in my adult life, I see a tear roll down my mentor’s cheek. I never thought I would see a goddess cry, but the day Princess Luna returned proved it could happen. To see Celestia in any state but her formal, practical best though? This was foreign on another level. The manic hornwriting on the scrolls comes back to me, the charred parchment, the pile of messages.

The pile I never responded to.

Dammit, now I’m crying too, and right in front of her! Get a hold of yourself, Twilight! She needs your help, not the other way around.

“I’m so-“ My voice breaks. I try to say it again, but there’s no sound, just tears and my apologetic intent trying its’ best to find its’ way to her. I manage to gasp a fresh lungful of stale air, and I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to force the words out between sniffles and tears.

“I- I’m sorry for… Making you worry, P-princess, I…”

“no…”

The breath I was taking gets stuck in my throat, and I feel my heart wrench up inside my chest. ’no? She won’t accept my apology?’

I whip my head back up to face her again, and the mask is gone. In its’ place is a tired and remorse-ridden mare who looks like she’s hurting more on the inside than I could possibly hope to understand. I open my mouth to say something, but she presses on.

“No, Twilight, it is I who should apologize to you. You have always been my faithful student, always found the solutions to my failings when I was unable to protect my ponies. I had hoped to keep you from-“ She suddenly cuts herself off, and the soft hum of the magic fills the room once more as she contemplates her next words. I want to jump in and interject that I was only doing my best as a subject, but some deep corner of my mind has the good sense to let her continue. Just like Fluttershy, sometimes everypony just needs time to get their feelings across.

“That isn’t the truth.” She finally forces out. That catches me by surprise, but before my face can scrunch up in confusion she hangs her head low. In penance or shame I can’t tell, but it hurts me to see her hurting because of it.

“The truth is, Twilight… I’ve used you for a gambit and lost. I’ve been trying for centuries, Twilight, centuries! Nothing I ever did worked, and I fear it’s because Star Swirl has indeed developed a precognition spell. I developed my own, by mother’s grace from a formula that he invented before tearing our empire apart, but never found a course of action that resulted in his capture without unacceptable loss.”

I feel some of the color draining from my cheeks, and subconsciously I begin pulling away to give myself space to parse everything she’s saying all of a sudden. Her wing gives way, and then falls limply to her side as I stand beside her.

“You… You knew this would happen? That Luna would… You knew that pegasus and I would…?” I trail off, suddenly mortified of the alicorn sitting in front of me. So I was the acceptable loss? Everything that happened, it was according to some vision of hers?

She continues sitting in front of me, and her shoulders and neck slump forward in defeat. I see her chest shaking a bit with each breath, and she swallows something back down before raising her head to my level.

“I was not shown the outcome, only that you two would meet there, in the ruins of Sister’s spells. I had hoped that you might be able to reach him, to appeal to his intellectual nature, perhaps he would realize your potential. I never thought-“ I’m not sure what’s happening on my face anymore, but I stumble backwards and fall onto my flank, head swimming with the implications if it all. There’s a twisted sense of betrayal, and I find myself questioning if I can even believe what she’s saying now.

“Twilight, truly, I apologize. Had I known, I would have looked for another way. I-“

“Star Swirl was right,” I breathe out softly, shaking my head and staring blankly down at the floor. “He was right, and I all but ridiculed him.”

I look back up at Celestia, and there’s a shiver that spreads across my back as she stares back at me with yet another new emotion; Fear.

“Twilight, please, if you still have any faith in me, that any of my guidance these last decades was genuine, listen now; Do not follow down Star Swirl’s path. I beg of you, Twilight. I would sooner give up my crown than lose you to the same rage and arrogance that I could not save him from.”

Wait, what’s she talking about? Does she think I’m considering fighting her now?

“Princess, I…” I sit up straight and take a deep breath. In… Hold… And out...

“Princess, I understand that there’s a lot going on here that I don’t understand. A Future-scrying spell, Star Swirl and Luna’s Chronomancy, I don’t even know why I was brought here!” Her expression softens just a bit, and she huffs out a relieved breath, letting her head hang again as she realizes I’m not about to become a psycho murder pony.

“…But I also know that if this is going to be okay again, we need a plan, and we need to talk. Really talk. About your policies, and about Star Swirl.” I keep my voice low and even, trying to keep the calm, rational tone we've established going so that we can make some progress. "But first, I really think you should take a break. You've been up for days and I can tell. I can keep the spell going for a couple hours at least, you should at least get a nap in before we we go over everything."

That gets her worried. She shifts her weight around between her forehooves and glances uncertainly between the spell and me.

"Do not take this as a slight, Twilight, but the details of this spell are... Incredibly intricate. While I hold you in the highest regard as a mage, this ritual has five major runes, and over thirty subrunes, three of which are-" She stops as I stare at her blankly. My tail is brushing over one of them right now. "I apologize, you've studied it already, I see. I'm sure you can infer its' purpose, but I'll affirm your findings, if you'd like."

I have in fact glossed over it, and it looks like a lot of very heavily modified divination magic, one of which uses completely archaic and foreign runes I'm not at all familiar with, though that shouldn't inhibit me from powering the circle as long as I don't delve too deep into the spell. I give her a nod for her to continue and light my own horn, reaching out to connect with the nearest Epsi rune to begin feeding it. As soon as I do it seems to reach out and latch onto me, eager for more energy to sustain itself.

"You'll find these circles may be more aggressive to synchronize with, it's by design unfortunately. Elevate your mana resonance to match mine, and you'll be able to contribute. Here, if you would," She reaches out a bare forehoof, hoof-up and looks at me expectantly. A stubborn small part of me wants to try and decipher the safety mechanism by force, but there's at least a dozen reasons that would be a bad idea. Curious, I reach out my own hoof and lay it over hers, and I feel the thrumming of something incredibly foreign begin to flow through the less-exercised mana network of my hooves:

Earth Pony magic.

She leans forward towards me and places the tip of her horn against mine, and there's a gentle pulling sensation as if she's somehow siphoning magic through my horn without taking any mana. It's warm and tingly, like a more pleasant version of the after effects of a stunning bolt. The pull slowly draws her magic up and through my forehoof dissipating out into and across my chest, allowing it to merge into the rest of my internal mana network. I feel it begin to permeate my wellspring, and I picture a drop of her golden magic swimming in an ocean of my raw purple mana pool, ever so subtly pushing and pulling on it until the drops surrounding it begin to hum and join its' chorus. I close my eyes, focusing solely on the experience happening in the hidden meta-levels of my body.

I will myself to respond, and quickly the small spark of influence takes and begins spreading into a puddle, then a lake, until it's permeating from the core of my wellspring which begins pumping it throughout my body like a second, invisible heart. The feeling is extraordinary, I can literally feel the thrumming of the Princess' Earth Pony magic resonating in every muscle and limb. The pulling feeling from the end of my horn grows steadily more insistent, and I begin pulling from my wellspring, drawing some energy into my horn to complete the strange cycle of magical injection and siphon.

"Ouch!"

There's a sharp sting in my horn as the foreign magic passes through my most sensitive apparatus, and I yank my head away instinctively, rubbing a hoof against the suddenly very tender horn.

"I know it may be painful, but I promise it only lasts a moment." She promises with a gentle, reassuring smile. I look back at her and mentally steel myself to endure it this time, then lean forward and make the contact again, holding as still as I can. There's another sharp pain as the magic is literally ripped away like an adhesive bandage. I give a little whimper and grit my teeth against the sensation, but I manage to keep the contact. I close my eyes again and refocus. True to her word, the unpleasant stinging recedes incredibly quickly, and in a matter of seconds it feels almost as if I'm weaving an ordinary seventh-tier multilayer spell matrix. The foreign warm and fuzzy mana brings an almost ticklish feeling to my now-sensitive horn as it permeates the thousands of branching pathways, reaching out and spreading across every last crevice it can find.

Once the drawing of mana matches the rate at which she's giving it to me match, we reach some homeostatic resonance with each other. It doesn't feel like a strange, foreign invasion on my mana network anymore, it feels like a steady stream of readily accessible magic just like I've always had. My wellspring feels a little different, (if something so intangible could be described with feeling,) as if it's moving just a bit faster than before. There's a sensation of harmony, in the melodic sense, that it's attuned to. I hone in on it, committing it to memory and trying to perpetuate it on my own, without the help of the constant magic influx.

I begin resisting the mana injection the Princess if giving me, and slowly it begins to dither in response. The pulling feeling from my horn fades drastically, and I summon more and more energy to it in order to keep my horn lit and supplying the magic it needs to stay in rhythm with my newly attuned wellspring. It dissipates a lot faster than I'm used to, almost like water evaporating in the summer heat the moment it enters my horn, but I'm able to make up for it with more quantity, subtly opening the leylines of my magic and alleviating the strict limiter I subconsciously have on at all times, letting as much of the fast-moving magic flood my horn as it can handle.

I have flashbacks to my parents, the magical entry exam, my magic surging and losing control over everything. My horn acting without direction, the implications of failure. I begin to sweat a little under both the magical and mental pressure, and my heart rate rises just a little bit as I begin to reign it in, culling the flow in fear of losing control of it. I can't let this explode, it's an unknown quantity in-

"It's okay, Twilight. You don't need to be afraid." I feel her other forehoof supporting mine from the bottom, cusping the shaking limb in a grounded, firm support. I realize she's not supplying any of the magic anymore, I'm perpetuating it all on my own. The feedback loop is closed off completely.

I'm not sure how long her horn has been separate from mine, but this magic of hers is mine to command now, and it bends and flows in exactly the way my own does, just faster, lighter, making me hyper-aware of it as it moves and is expended. In exchange for its' fluidity and accuracy, though, I need to use a lot more of it to supply the same amount of raw output. I'm capable of nearly half a vis per hour with my normal restricted network, I have no idea if I can keep up with this even if I uninhibited myself. But I have to try.

I take a deep breath and let the magic run wild, uninhibited.

Almost instantly, I feel a sharp prickly feeling shoot all across my entire being as the lightning-fast magic shoots across my mana network and presses against the confines, stretching the theoretical muscles to their limits, finding any and every nook and neuron to inflate and doing so. It's excruciating for less than half a second, the white-hot flash of pain leaving me gasping for air and doubled over in the expectation of a hellish trial of adjustment. I'm left surprised for the better, though. There's no more pain, no more fuzz, just the warmth permeating my body and suddenly I'm hyper-aware of all the many overlapping and crisscrossing ley lines in my hooves, back, flank, horn, neck, and every other area of my body I'm not sure I've ever in my life channeled magic through. In a terrifyingly alien and foreign way, it's almost liberating to have this much awareness and fine control of my entire magic network. Without any bars held, I let the magic stream back into my horn, pouring from a massive source in my core to continually push it out as fast as I can generate it, pulling what I can't create in time from my wellspring which has plenty to spare.

Instead of the resistant, defiant Epsi rune I encountered before, I find there's no need to interact directly with the relay at all. The spot I'm sitting has something willing to accept the newly calibrated magic, drawing it from my horn and distributing it effortlessly to the five major runes, then their subsequent sub-runes which perpetuate the many spells happening in tandem. Even without looking at any of them, I have a perfectly vivid picture in my mind's eye of the precise measurements, throughput, capacity, and requirements of all of it. It feels just as natural as telekinesis, or flipping the page of a book, or even teleporting, like it's something I've been doing all my life.

The hooves cusping mine press against me a bit more firmly, shaking a bit. I open my eyes and the Princess has an inscrutable look on her face. I can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing, though in that moment I do see that her horn is completely inactive. I'm now the one powering the spell, entirely on my own. Every second that passes it gets a little easier, and the feeling of familiarity grows as that annoying, pestering part of my new mind kicks into overdrive and shows me exactly what to do and how to do it. For once, I'm glad for the barrage of information, and so much is happening that it doesn't even have the spare time to dredge up useless trivia.

"Congratulations, Twilight," The Princess coos from in front of me. I open my eyes and look up to see her staring down at me with beaming pride, and a hint of something else I can't decipher beneath the heavy load my mind is struggling to categorize and solve.

"On casting your first Alicorn-tier spell."

13 - Magic Lesson

MAGIC LESSON

Oh my gosh, I'm actually casting an Alicorn-tier spell right now!

Well, technically it's been pre-constructed and I'm just powering it while it's already in motion, but still! Me! Powering an Alicorn Spell! Eeeeeeee! I start hopping up and down, alternating between two hooves at a time in a bouncy interpretive dance that could give Pinkie an idea or two.

I'm so lost in the flurry of joy and dancing that I almost break my own concentration on the spell, and there's a tiny lapse of output that sends a small streak of darkness rippling across the floor and pulsing out to the nearest Epsi rune. Thankfully there's enough buildup in its' relay that the throughput isn't interrupted, but I do need to send a rushed surge of the light and airy mana forward to rebuild the small buffer. It's as effortless as always, but now that I'm watching the energy as I disperse it, something else catches my eye.

First, the magic surrounding my horn and pouring into the spell isn't the rich purple of my coat anymore, it's a bright and radiant gold, matching the usual aura of the Princess. Second, it's fast.

I don't mean a bit faster than my usual unmodified magic, I mean as soon as I push the mana to my horn it all but bursts across the floor like a bolt of lightning. There's not even the span of a blink between it leaving my horn and connecting to the relay. It's not a particularly far distance, barely the length of my tail, but even that would take at least a quarter of a second normally. I look up at the Princess a bit taken aback by the speed of it. She's watching me as I test the limits and parameters in my own way, though she still has that proud smile on her face. Seeing her smiling makes me smile despite everything, and for a few seconds we just sit there, smiling at each other. Mine's probably a lot less elegant and poised, and more of a stupid wide-mouthed grin. I don't really care, though, and I bask in the silent praise, pride welling up in my chest alongside the warmth of my new magic.

"You'll likely have some trouble adjusting to this new frequency, and you may find it difficult to reattune without help or practice. So long as there is magic in your depths it will perpetuate, so long as you will it to, just as your natural magic does. Don't be dissuaded if your wellspring runs dry or you're unable to reharmonize yourself, I'll be here to assist you, as always."

I fall from cloud nine to just shy of cloud eight. "You mean this isn't a permanent change? If I use all of this magic faster than it regenerates, I'll just have my normal magic left?"

She nods. "That is correct. In time you will learn to harmonize yourself to many different styles, some more effective than others, though sister and I are capable of assisting you until such a time you're able to do so on your own. In optimal conditions and without strain, your body's natural regeneration will sustain the change for two to three days before you'll need to reharmonize."

I narrow my eyes, committing everything to memory as quickly as I dare. Not that it requires any thought on my part, my mind automatically documents and catalogues everything I see and hear whether or not I want it to now. I could be half asleep reading a book and remember everything that's happened so far. Down to cloud seven or six, and though I'm having the time of my life right now I need to stay focused.

"I think I understand. I'll try to make sure I don't deplete my wellspring completely so I can stay... Harmonized." It's a strange term that I've never heard used in magical theory, but it falls in line with the natural and warm feeling that comes alongside it. If casting a spell with my normal magic is like getting a tiny zap! from static buildup, this is like being wrapped up in a big blanket on a chilly winter morning; It's actively pleasant to expend it. Maybe even a little addictive, if I'm being honest. Maybe that's just the Aville's sedative talking.

I have the ever-present urge to run up and hug her, to thank her up and down for showing me yet another amazing thing I never could have discovered in a thousand years of research on my own, but the reality that I need to hold her accountable for her decisions slams a freight train through the sky and lands me squarely on Cloud Two, with a hoof half-raised in her direction. I look down at it, and slowly lower it back onto the stone floor.

"I think I can handle this for now, Princess. I promise I won't poke around too much with the spell, you should get some rest while Luna still has emergency Day Court covered."

She looks a bit crestfallen, but she swallows it down quickly and levitates her regalia over to herself, slipping them on with a swiftness developed over thousands of iterations. "Of course. When I return I'll explain things as plainly as I can, I promise. And... Twilight?"

"Yes, Princess?"

"...If I had known, truly, I never would have-"

"I know, Princess." I meet her gaze and try my best to reassure her with my smile in the same way that she's done for me hundreds of times before. "We'll talk later, okay?"

She stands still in a rare moment of hesitation I rarely see from her, but then she closes her eyes and leans her head forward, letting her mane fall forward around her face before giving a subtle nod.

"Of course. Thank you again, Twilight." She raises her head again, shaking the ethereal mane back behind her with an upbeat flourish before turning and trudging towards the doors. She takes in a sharp breath and raises her head tall, then presses them open with her magic and steps confidently out into the hall with a smile. I see the Day Guard pony move to escort her as the doors are closing, I can only assume the Night Guard is still posted outside waiting for me to leave. He's going to be waiting a while.

The doors close behind her with the resonating sound of heavy birch on stone echoing across the spartan chamber. Now that I'm alone, I take a look around at the tall room I'm sat in, taking in the details. There's a simple but large wooden desk against the wall opposite the door with a large regal pillow on the ground beneath it, and a few books and stacks of parchment neatly stacked up in piles around it. Beyond that, the room is completely barren save for the massive chalk inscriptions forming the interweaving spell circles I'm fueling. This chamber is likely solely for the Princess to test and conduct spells, so there's not much the room really needs besides the occasional cauldron or other repository for spell components, though it would make sense for her to have an alchemy lab elsewhere in the castle for preparing necessary ingredients.

Dear Princess Celestia,

Petrified Toad's Legs, common in transmogrification spellcraft, are in incredibly short supply despite the ease of breeding them, as are Hawk Primaries and Talons, and Eyes of Newt. Likely reasons for the shortage of simple to acquire ingredients are, in descending order of likelihood, ponies general distaste for the gruesome nature of harvesting organic parts with alchemical properties, seasonal migratory pattern shifts resulting in a decline in-

Damn, I should have thought to sedate myself again before I started channeling this. I'm not sure what kind of response self-casting medical-grade magic would have with this new and unfamiliar mana, and I'm not keen on testing it while I'm being entrusted with such an important spell. I'll just have to grit my teeth and bear it for a few hours.

"Dearest sister, might we ask thee a question?" Luna asked, lowering a tome labeled "Runes For Dummies" to glance up across Canterlot Castle's grand dining room table at her sister, who was patiently sorting through a list of proposals for the week.

"Shoot." Celestia replied, crumbling the proposal for a nationally-sponsored skii-ball team and immolating it above a nearby trash bin, before picking up another and glossing it over.

"Why must the modern casting of spells require such a plethora of tedium? Mine spellcraft of the olden ways is plenty sufficient for that which our duties shalt require." Luna huffed, letting the book slip out of her magic and fall onto the table with a hard Thmp!

Celestia lowered the latest proposal involving several years' worth of city renovation budget and paving a street the noble happened to live on in solid gold, leveling a bored expression back at her sister.

"Blasting your raw and unrefined magic in a blast of energy hardly counts as Spellcraft, Lulu. There is much for you to relearn. If you rely only on your physical might and untamed magic blasts, you'll conquer any beast, but a single Wonderbolt would likely best you as you are now."

Luna had only just been released from her lunar prison, and her form was still recuperating from having its' magic completely and entirely ripped away by the Elements of Harmony. Though she was still an Alicorn, her power was greatly diminished. Where once she could level mountains with a well-placed blast from her horn, it was now a struggle to even manipulate objects in her magic. That, coupled with her greatly stunted size resulted in a form much weaker than she was ever used to having.

Despite the sound logic of her sister, Luna huffed once again, defiantly. "Even so, what merit be there in such... Frivolous spellcraft? The time from whence we left this craft was in its' infancy, Its' rigid order and rules failing to provide meaningful progress! The many Runes and soul-runes,"

"Sub-runes," Celestia corrected, returning to immolating yet another proposal as Luna ranted for the third time this morning.

"'Tis the spellcraft of your ways, sister, not mine! Such a way is not only beneath us, it is the antithesis of our nature!" She slammed a hoof against the table pointedly.

"My spellcraft is beneath you?" Celestia responded coldly, putting down her own work and glaring at the pouting blue alicorn across from her. "Luna, you're acting like a spoiled foal, do you even hear yourself? If you don't want to learn how to use your own horn then I won't make you, but I thought you of all ponies would want to become the best version of yourself you could be. Especially given what everypony's just put themselves through for you."

There was a stillness in the air as the two stared at each other. The tension rose briefly, but the fire burning in Luna's chest quickly faded into guilt under the disapproving glare of her older sister. She lowered her head in a silent repentance.

"...We apologize, sister. The last we succeeded such a spell was to send Us to purgatory. "

Silence descended upon them again. Celestia remembered vividly the strange and powerful half-ritual half-freecast spell Luna had crafted to imprison herself in the moon, the manifested spell circle it created was still on her balcony to this day, she visited it every night for decades since they were separated.

After a few moments of silence, Luna reached forward a hoof to open the book again, and the two continued their reading.

"Will you help us?" Luna suddenly asked, quietly. Celestia paused and looked over at her sister, seeing her quietly struggling to grasp the foundational knowledge of modern spellcasting. It suddenly occurred to Celestia that it wasn't only just different from what she was used to, it was written in the modern common tongue that she had yet to acclimate to and made many references to concepts that were thought rudimentary. Many of these terminologies were basic knowledge one would expect any foal to know, and therefore they weren't explained.

"Of course, Lulu. I'm sorry for being short with you, I know it's difficult for you to readjust too. I'm used to dealing with things on my own, and... I'll try to be more considerate."

For the first time that morning Luna smiled, nodding her acknowledgement and appreciation for the sentiment.

"The schools number eight, each with corresponding Major Runes, should we understand them correctly. Fi, Elu, Rute, Ri, Vici, Verita, Oso, and Kroe." She paused, looking back up at Celestia, who nodded in return. "These are translations from the old tongue, are they not? Why are they, too, not 'modernized' in thy new tongue?"

"A mixture of purism and sentimentality, I'm afraid. Though you can call them whatever you'd like, the rune functions just the same no matter what name you give it, all that matters is that you understand their uses. Take Verita, for instance. Its' old Ponish translation is Veritas, which you're familiar with. It symbolizes the school of Divination spells, and shapes magic in accordance with that school's requirements for casting. Were you to bypass using the spells' major rune, you would undoubtedly overload or blow out the spell matrix entirely."

As Celestia talked, she charred a rough shorthoof version of the light spell into the back of one of the proposals with her magic, pointing to the central rune with a hoof. Luna took note and nodded at the demonstration, lighting her own horn to attempt the spell herself. The spell didn't manifest, though, and the mana only continued to build as she tried harder and harder to force its' activation. The mana built up at the base of her horn, the tip sparking wildly before a small explosion knocked her backwards off of her seat and sent her a few feet back on her side, her charred tiara clinking to the floor beside her as she shook the daze from her head.

"Why did it not work? We attempted thine spell as written!" Luna whined, rubbing the now-tender flesh of her horn as the thrumming in her skull receded.

"I apologise, sister, that was a demonstration. Light is a simple spell. It requires nearly no input besides a minute bit of power, though if that power is shaped incorrectly..." Celestia raised her hoof at her sister, pointing to her horn. "Try again, though with this formula."

Celestia floated a second parchment over as Luna rose up to take her seat once more, clearly agitated at the act of sabotage, though she held her tongue. The same simple spell burned itself into the back of the parchment, the only difference between the two was a large coffee stain and the central rune.

"The Major rune has changed, this was the demonstration, we take it?" Luna asked. Celestia nodded, then tapped a hoof against the new formula.

"Try it again, with the correct Rune. You'll feel the difference." She promised.

The explosion still fresh in her mind, Luna trepidatiously began to examine the simple spell, building a tiny amount of mana in her horn in an attempt to shape the spell through the inscribed Rune. As soon as the mana began to rise to her horn, though, it began to glow in a bright white light, easily outshining the early orange rays of dawn that had been dying the dining room in golden tones.

"This is... Not quite as horrible as we had anticipated." Luna admitted, blinking in surprise as she attempted to angle her head in a way to look directly at her own glowing horn, to no avail. Celestia smiled at the sight, holding back a chuckle as her sister, immortal goddess of the moon, cast her first modern spell. It was something a foal was capable of on their first week of magic kindergarten, but she thought better of making that jab at such a pivotal moment.

"There's a whole new world of opportunity in these ways, sister. I imagine you'll find ways to expand upon your calling if you only take the time to learn it."

Luna focused back in on reality, the glow on her horn sputtering out and dying as she forcibly cut off the flow from the spell.

"And what Rune would such a magic belong to, sister? I find it hard to believe there exists a school of Dream magic." Luna quips dryly, leaning over the book and glancing at the list of all her options.

Central runes denoting schools of magic:

Conjuration - Creating or transposing things through space
Fi

Necromancy - Life-fuelled spells and Healing/Resurrection
Elu

Evocation - Physically manifesting physical, energy-based, or elemental force to the material plane.
Rute

Abjuration - Protection, Dispelling, and Warding spells of all facets.
Ri

Transmutation - Bending the laws of physics or reshaping existing matter into other matter.
Vici

Divination - Information-gathering magic, via scrying, divine assistance, and revealing the true intentions of any object or communication.
Verita

Enchantment - Manipulation of intelligent creatures through the mind.
Oso

Illusion - Manipulating the five senses of creatures to believe something that isn't true.
Kroe

"While I imagine you'll find most similarities under Illusion magic, Kroe, you'll likely require many facets from different studies. In time, who's to say you won't invent your own?" Celestia gingerly levitated a cup of quickly cooling tea to her lips, marking the end of her thought. The simple idea brought a new perspective to her younger sister's eyes, however, and she sat staring blankly at the pages as her mind wandered.

"One can invent a classification of magic?" She muttered, thinking aloud in disbelief.

“How do you think they came to be? Not everything is dredged up from ancient crypts and ruins, you know.” Celestia noted dryly, taking another long sip of tea as her sister’s brain whirred into overdrive, a blank stare overwriting any non-critical facial function in favor of more processing power. They sat in relative silence for several minutes, only the occasional clink! of porcelain on porcelain and Celestia’s magic signing or burning proposals breaking the quiet.

“Doth t- We mean… Do you believe it to be possible for us to replicate our dream magic with such a system?” She finally asked with stars in her eyes, looking back and forth between the simple incantations and her sister for guidance. “To share the knowledge with you would be the most wonderful of gifts!”

“Perhaps it could, though I doubt very much that I could ever perform your duties nearly as well. The ponies of this age have slept alone all their lives, nightmares are commonplace I’m afraid.”

Luna’s eyes widened as Celestia spoke, a horrified look of disbelief washing over her.

“You could not stand vigil in my stead, sister? All those years, our subjects were meant to fend off the terrors of the night on their own?!”

“I’m afraid so. I tried my best, but…” Celestia closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, gathering herself as she began to weave a spell. Instead of the bright golden aura that normally permeated her horn, the magic was black and green, forming tendrils of smoke-like wisps that dissipated as it left her horn. She grit her teeth as the magic tried to take hold of her mind and project her elsewhere, struggling to find purchase with the ancient and nonfunctional spell. It quickly became apparent that it was for nothing, as the smoky magic faded away into the air and Celestia slumped forward, panting as she leaned against the table for support. Luna watched on as her sister struggled to recuperate from the strain, and a worried expression was etched plainly on her face.

“That was Umbrum magic, sister… Is this how you attempted to replicate Our craft? With the blasphemy of those animals…?” Luna breathed in disbelief.

“It was all I had, Lulu. Please, don’t explode about this without thinking again. It’s like you said, my ponies- our ponies were facing the horrors of the night on their own, and without your calling I had no way to assist them. The Umbrum’s spellcasting is… Questionable in nature, but it was the only hope I had to develop anything capable of emulating you.”

Luna had her mouth open to angrily protest, to suggest any multitude of better alternatives that could have been better… But none came. Quiet descended over them again as Celestia caught her breath and pushed herself upright, Luna lost in thought.

“… Did you succeed?”

The two glanced at each other, but Celestia broke the connection, casting her gaze downward.

“No.”

“… I see.”

They sat there for a few moments pondering what either of them could say after an exchange like that. When nothing came, Luna turned her gaze down at the book in front of her and began to read over the broad concept of the eight Greater Runes. Celestia watched her for a time from a place beyond her eyes, but eventually picked up the next parchment and began skimming.

For the rest of the morning the two sat in contemplative silence once more, save for the flipping of pages and the burning of scrolls.

Mité, minor rune denoting a modified power level of a major or cousin minor rune. Derived from the old ponish translation of Might.

Subclassifications include:
Diminutive (Commonly used in training and study environments)
Minor
No affix (implying median or expected power requirement)
Major
Divine (Exclusively for use in spells designed by archemages or Alicorns)

My eyes skim over the untitled and unmarked tome, trying my best to stave off the barrage of migraine-inducing information that comes whenever I have a moment to think. I'm finding it helps to actively take in new information, or even old information that has minor details I haven't committed to memory, like the fact that Lov runes are actually only seven-eighths encompassed by their binding agent, unless you're using uninfused chalk, in which case you do fully encompass it since it's a much weaker catalytic agent.

Lov, minor rune usually denoting heavy use of necromancy or modified abjuration, capable of greatly reshaping organic matter or energy. It prevents unwilling creatures from being affected by the spell, or only creatures that you will it to effect, usually chosen at the time of casting. No subclassifications for this one, though. The only spell I know that uses a Lov subrune is a modified mending spell that you can use to seal cuts, and even then it probably doesn't even need the subrune to function.

There's plenty of interesting hypotheses to test, but any magic involving both the Elu Major rune (Necromancy,) and the Lov subrune requires prior authorization directly from the crown or the Canterlot Medical Ethics council. The former requires a lengthy process and justifiable cause to request a direct audience in Day Court, research and hypotheticals are forced to wait for an appointment with the council, and their waitlist can get long. Last I checked it was 4 months and 2 days, and they've only ever approved a hoof full of requests with extraordinary potential and little room for misuse.

Epsi's also known as Flow, it adds a relay as some point along your casting circle that's capable of either delaying, storing, or even changing the fuel source in minor ways. The most common subclassifications for a Flow rune are Thermal, Capacitor, Relay, Transformer, and Recursive. They allow a caster to regulate temperature, store power as a buffer in case the power source is briefly interrupted, delay input into pulses, transform magic signature, or allow for re-use of redundant or unutilized magic respectively. Flow runes are so common in ritual casting that some academics consider them major runes in their own right.

They'd be wrong, and I have a forty page thesis referencing over twenty highly accredited academics and research papers explaining why.

Sorry, in my first year in Magic University I lost my first debate on that exact topic. It was just because my opponent was the arbiter's son, and I'm still a little bitter about it when it comes up. I mean seriously, he didn't even know what subroutines qualified as valid parameters for major runes, the whole thing was a sham! I should have mopped the floor with him!

I shake my head and focus on the spell instead, letting my head empty out and starting fresh as the warm mana trickles out of my horn and zips out in all directions towards the different relays. I stop to consider why the Princess didn't just add capacitor runes to this spell, it could have allowed her to at least take small breaks if she were to inscribe enough of them. It could be that Alicorn-tier magic is so incredibly intricate that even slight variables such as additional Flow runes could cause cascading effects, invariably resulting in the failure of the spell, or worse, morphing the spell into a ticking time bomb of unknowable destruction that could wipe out all of civilization as we know it!

I hold my breath for a moment, re-centering myself mentally. No spells are going to blow up and doom equestria, Twilight. You've studied theoretical terraforming magic before, and this has no similarities. Just an irrational, intrusive thought. Alright, ready to focus.

I let the breath out slowly. Much better.

I glance at the tome again, and there's one minor rune left. Harm, though some ponies just call it Red. It denotes a spell created with specific intent to harm, maim, or destroy without any safety parameters; Or worse, parameters that specifically seek out living targets. It's banned by unilateral royal decree in any and all research or application, and any pony found studying it is subject to some hefty fines, years of prison time, or even being detained indefinitely until a royal family member agrees they're fit to rejoin society.

I don't know of any ponies that went to somewhere like that, but there was a mare in a class of mine who formulated that a weaponized Clover's Telepathy could be used to blast the minds of ponies in a wide area around the caster. I never saw the script for it, not that I would ever want to, but she went missing for nearly a week after somepony allegedly mentioned it to a professor. It was just a rumor, but the way I saw her deny ever having thought of it when she returned always rubbed me the wrong way.

'That's why I need to hold the Princess accountable,' I remind myself. To be honest, I still haven't worked out exactly how to brooch the topic of the Princess' methods for keeping her ponies safe. On one hoof I understand the desire for absolute control and jurisdiction over potentially dangerous developments, but on the other... Is it really right of her to prevent Equestria from prospering, just out of fear for what might come of it?

On one shoulder a white alicorn is cooing reassurances and gentle white lies to protect me from myself and the complicated thoughts in my head, but on the other there's a gray unicorn screaming for the betterment of ponykind, willing to do whatever it takes for his version of that ideal. Both have their merits, but...

In my mind's eye I see Star Swirl raising his hoof to Goldfish's forehead, the flash of magic, and her body falling away lifelessly, all without a shred of sympathy or remorse from the old unicorn. It terrifies and infuriates me all over again.

I'm snapped out of my silent dilemma, however, by the sounds of armored horseshoes approaching from the right side of the hall, the same direction the Princess' chambers are. What? It's only been... How long has it been? I send a third sensory arcane eye into the sky hundreds of feet above my current elevation, only to find that the sun has indeed set. The moon has yet to rise, but that means I've been in here for at least several hours. Wow, time really flies, I guess.

Unlike when I was escorted here, there's no knock as one of the massive wooden doors open up, and there in all her regal stature stands the Princess of the Sun, looking to all the world in perfect condition and ready for anything. I smile a bit seeing her back to her usual self, but the skeptic in me eats away at the pleasant feeling, and I wonder if she's still just putting on a brave face for everypony else despite being beyond exhausted. Alicorn or not, a few hours doesn't absolve your body from the wear of three days spent continually ritual casting.

I don't have the opportunity to mention it in the brief time we look at each other, though, as standing beside her in the other door is my number one assistant. I'm ecstatic to see him at first, but his silhouette is all wrong against the bright backdrop of the well-lit hallway behind him. I squint a bit to try and see him better, my eyes adjusting from the relative darkness I've been sitting in for the last few hours, but as the two walk in I hear that the metal-clad hoof and footfalls are emitting from both of them as they step into the room. When the doors close behind them I'm able to see much better, but there's clearly something wrong with my eyes. I could have sworn it was Spike beside the Princess, but the little green and purple scaled creature is hardly recognizable. My heart sinks when he's the first to speak up, and it's absolutely, undoubtedly the voice of my baby dragon.

"Hey, Twilight."

It's all he says, and I'm not sure how to respond. Princess Celestia looks down between him and me, and nudges him forward a bit with a gentle shove. He stumbles for a step but keeps the momentum going, treading clumsily and noisily around the perimeter of the many interwoven spells inscribed on the ground. He's a hoof's length away from me now and I can see the insignia emblazoned on his chest, as well as the softly clinking chitin-like plates across his torso and legs.

He's clad neck-to-foot in Lunar Guard armor.

Author's Note

Major Runes cheat-sheet:

Conjuration - Creating or transposing things through space
Fi

Necromancy - Life-fuelled spells and Healing/Resurrection
Elu

Evocation - Manifesting tangible physical, energy-based, or elemental forces.
Rute

Abjuration - Protection, Dispelling, and Warding spells of all facets.
Ri

Transmutation - Bending the laws of physics or reshaping existing matter into other matter.
Vici

Divination - Information-gathering magic, via scrying, divine assistance, and revealing the true intentions of any object or communication.
Verita

Enchantment - Manipulation of a target through the mind.
Oso

Illusion - Manipulating the five senses of creatures to believe something that isn't true.
Kroe

Minor runes:

Power - A spell usually requiring a powerful mage to cast, either via difficulty or wellspring capacity
Mité
Subclassifications:
Divine
Major
Nondescrpit
Minor
Diminutive

Mercy - A spell that contains great capacity to reshape organic matter and energy.
Lov

Harm - A spell created with specific intent to harm, maim, or destroy.
Red

Flow - A rune used to conduct rituals, storing and metering magical energy to the best of its' capacity evenly across a spell circle or freecast involving multiple layers.
Epsi
Subclassifications:
Thermal
Capacitor
Relay
Transformer
Recursive

These runes are used to give written form to spells that can be cast either as a ritual, or freecast without the need for physical runes. Freecast spells generally don't have any physical of preparational requirements, but in exchange are typically much weaker than similar rituals for the same amount of energy required.

14 - Lunar Honor Guard Spike

LUNAR HONOR GUARD SPIKE

“Spike, why are you…?” I bring my horn closer to him, illuminating the familiarly styled armor. Its’ deep blacks and blues are a stark contrast to his bright green and purple scales, and I can’t help but hate how it looks on him. Is this some kind of point the Princess is trying to make, or one he’s trying to make?

“I’m sure there’s much better things to wear if you wanted to protect yourself, Spike. And I doubt the Lunar Guard appreciate somecreature wearing their uniform without even going through training.”

I let out a little nervous chuckle and reach a hoof out to lay on his shoulder, but he takes a short step back and shakes his head.

“Twilight, I’m not a baby anymore! I want to protect you- protect both of us! I know you won’t want me to and you’ll be upset, but I talked to Princess Luna and Captain Night Fury and they both said they’d make an exception and train me even though it might take a really long time and-“

“Spike! Calm down!” I yell as the little drake starts gasping for breath. Run-on sentences will do that. “I just- Why? When, and… Why?”

To my credit I’m taking this a lot better than I think I would under most circumstances. I’m not the one hyperventilating, which is a plus, and even though I’m furious that Princess Luna would do this to me after everything else she’s served to us recently, I’m doing a good job not directing that anger at Spike like last time.

“I just want to be able to help! Training with the Night Guard could help me keep you safe, and it’d make me stronger, too. I know I’m helpful as your assistant, but when those two stalkers dashed off and came back to attack you, I wasn’t even on the same block! What if they go for me next time, because they know I’m a wimpy dragon and I’m important to you? It’s what I’d do!” He’s clenching his armored hands, and there’s a fiery resolve behind his eyes that makes my heart sink even lower, before he adds “…If I were, you know, an evil ruthless villain.”

My face is a mixed-up wreck of emotions. Just like Spike. He makes me want to laugh, but he also makes me want to cry. I understand his desire to be useful, I’ve always loved him for it, even if it landed him in trouble. But…

“Spike,”

I get up and take a step towards him. He’s nearly above my chest height in the armored footwear. Thankfully he doesn’t move away again, allowing me to put a hoof on his shoulder. The chilly metallic plates are a farcry from the normal warm and friendly scales that I usually find.

“I love you more than anypony in the whole world.” I pause to let that sink in, though I do cringe a bit as I remember the Princess just a few feet to my right. Oof. Truth hurts. “I know you’ve probably already thought about what to say when I say this, but I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you. Even if we have crazy powerful relic soulgems that can bring us back if the worst happens, I don’t ever want you to experience something like that. I want to keep you safe, too!”

I punctuate my last sentence by lifting my other forehoof and poking it against his chest, smiling weakly as it covers the lunar insignia.

“Yeah… I have. And it kinda sounds like you know I’m right.” He look forward at me, stating it matter-of-factly with a neutral expression. I blink at him.

“Wha- I don’t think this is right at all! I think this is-“ He closes his eyes and physically braces himself for the riot act he knows I’m about to unleash on him. Feeling him tense up beneath all the metal and fabric between us, I stop and let the words linger in the air, slowly closing my mouth and bowing my head in front of him. A second later I let my hooves slip away too, and I take a deep breath. I see him shift a bit through the gaps in my mane, which is blocking my view of him. I let the breath out and raise my head again, shaking my drooping bangs back into place with a forced and desperate smile.

“Spike, there’s so many wonderful things you could do! Nopony would ever say you aren’t as brave as any soldier, but you’re as smart and clever as any academic! You can do anything you want to when you’re ready for it-“

“You’re not listening!” His voice rings and rebounds off the bare stone walls, bouncing back and forth in an echo chamber of pent-up frustration. He’s clenching his hands so hard I’m afraid he’ll draw blood through the armored gloves, and there’s a dim green glow of raging dragonfire protruding from his nostrils, his chest heaving between staggered and shaky breaths.

“You’re not listening…” He repeats quietly, staring hard into my wide-open eyes. I’m stunned that he’d raise his voice like that at me, and that he’s so… Angry! I just don’t want him to waste his potential being a bodyguard, to put himself needlessly in danger. Is that wrong of me, to think of his best interests for him? Isn’t that my job as his-

…As his what, exactly?

I love the little ball of brilliant and excitable scales, he knows that. I also know that he loves me just as much, but just because I love him doesn’t mean I get to decide his life. He’ll always be my baby dragon, but he’s never been my baby dragon.

I feel the turmoil in my chest and find myself looking over to the Princess on instinct, a clear cry for help chiseled into my eyes. She’s watching the scene from a respectful distance, but I can see that look on her face that says she’s been here before. With me, maybe, or even with Princess Luna. She doesn’t say anything, but she purses her lips in a mournful forced half-smile.

In that moment, I think I finally get it. Really get it. My eyes start to unfocus as I remember Luna’s return, the same week I was sent to Ponyville by no coincidence. All the chance meetings I made, all the lucky breaks…

I hear a low ringing in my ears steadily begin to climb in frequency as I try to keep the train of thought rolling, thinking harder while keeping my magic pouring into the spell.

In laypony's terms, the art of magically creating artificial luck

The only description of her chronomancy spell I found in any of the tomes in here. The ringing gets much louder, and I think harder, keeping the magic flowing.

None of this was happenstance, it was pre-ordained. All of it, maybe even Spike being here now is somehow leading to a lesson I’d needed to learn before moving on. I’m dissociating, I can tell by the ringing. It’s drowning out everything else, but I need to know.

What happens to Spike? What is it I’m supposed to know? When will he be-

“Uh, mister dragon guard? Hey, I think you dropped this!”

“Huh? Oh, thanks!”

Spike stops and turns around in the middle of a dirt road. He’s wearing some strange half-plate variant of Lunar Guard armor, and he’s… Muscular. I see myself next to him, but the details are hazy and distorted. I try to get a bearing on where it is, but the scene fades to an inky fuzzy white in all direction a few feet from either of the two.

He walks up to the griffin, who’s brandishing a Power Pony figurine with a long, red flowing cape. She holds it up for a second and smiles before dropping it into his hand.

“It must’ve fallen out of my bag, I don’t even remember packing it.” Spike mumbles as he reaches behind him and slips it into his backpack.

“So is Humdrum your favorite? You kinda look like him! If you were a pony, anyways.” The griffin beams at him and giggles. She grabs a mail bag in her taloned hands and turns it to show a pin of another Power Pony on the side, just poking out from the front flap.

“Well duh he’s my favorite, he’s the sidekick to all six Power Ponies, which means he’s basically half a hero times six! Zapp’s a pretty cool choice, but Humdrum’s number one for sure.” There’s a cheshire grin of antagonism playing at his face, but the griffin is either oblivious or more than willing to take the bait.

“No way! Zapp’s like, the best! Did you see what she did to the Volcanic Cuber in the last issue? Humdrum couldn’t even move half as many wyverns if he…”

I struggle to focus harder, but the sound starts to fizzle and crack, and my eyes are slowly turning out of focus. I see the two smiling and laughing together, then the scene recedes away as quickly as it came.

And then I’m back, my head buzzing and a dull ache spreading across the inside of my forehead. I’m still standing in the middle of the spell, in the Princess’ casting chamber with her and Spike. The latter is raising an eyebrow at me, and he’s raising a hand in front of my face impatiently.

“Twilight, are you really zoning out right now? That’s really messed up-“

“Do you know any gr-“ I blurt out as I come back, but I catch myself in time. That wasn’t a daydream or me zoning out, that was definitely and without doubt some variant of chronomancy, or at the very least divination. Somehow I managed to unwillingly trigger the spell without any incantation. I shake my head free of the residual strands of false memory, feeling a light haze fading from the edges of my vision. Is it paradoxical to ask if he knows a griffin? I mean, he knows Gilda, but that was without a doubt not Gilda.

Spike just stares blankly at me for a few seconds and then scoffs, shaking his head and turning to face the far end of the room. “Twilight, I thought for hours about how to make you get this, but I don’t know what else I can say that’ll get through to you! This is what I want, and- Come on, Twilight, that’s not fair.”

With a gasp I realize I was crying again. I raise a hoof to my face and wipe at a cheek, and sure enough it comes away wet.

“H-huh… Look at that…” I half-stutter, half-chuckle with a small smile. Spike’s looking at me with a mixture of concern and annoyance, but I shove past those feelings and rush forward to give him a big hug, wrapping both forehooves around his shoulders and squeezing on the overfitted armor.

“Twilight, please, this is hard enough without the guilt tripping…” Spike doesn’t struggle, but he doesn’t return the motion either. He just stands there and lets me hug him while I’m crying happy tears for him, even if I don’t completely understand why. I don’t know what I saw means exactly, but a feeling is telling me that it was something I absolutely want to make real for him.

“Twilight, are you alright?” The princess suddenly asks. She takes a half step towards us, hoof paused midair as if she was unsure what was appropriate given the circumstance. I raise my head slowly from Spike’s shoulder to give her a lost look.

“Was it real? Is that... How it has to happen?” I ask. Spike fidgets a bit and gently lifts my hooves off his shoulders. He doesn’t move away from me which I’m grateful for, but his forehead creases a bit at the unprompted question.

The Princess looks past me for a little while. She gives a cursory glance around the room while she thinks, but eventually gives a simple “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

She swallows hard when she glances at Spike, but she approaches anyways and lays a hoof on my shoulder, taking a seat beside me. Spike is absolutely clueless now, aware there’s something he’s missing.

“Twilight, I’m so sorry, I had hoped to keep you from it as long as I could, but-“

“Wait, what do you-“

“Can SOMEPONY clue me in here?!” Spike huffs and taps his gauntlets against his armor at the hip, drumming his claws against the metal.

“I… I saw you meet somecreature. You were with me, but…” I look back at him and try my best to keep my voice level, suppressing the edge of disapproval. “You were still wearing armor.”

“Oh.” He thinks on the new information for a second, glancing around at the runes on the floor then to me, and the rhythmic drumming stops as a little light bulb sparks to life in his head. “So... Then that means I must pass training, right? That’s great news, it means I don’t have anything to worry about! And that also means that you eventually get over it!” He declares, triumphant.

He’s grinning at me as if I’m going to just roll over and tell him I’m happy he’s throwing himself into the deep end. I open my mouth for some kind of response, but I don’t have it in me. I want to praise him for working it out so quickly, but the Princess’ words are still fresh in my ears and instead I shoot her a look. She’s got her mask back on, and I can tell she’s hiding something all of a sudden. She thought I saw something awful, something about Spike.

She knows something I don’t.

“Spike, I promise- super pinkie promise- that we’ll talk this through, tonight. As soon as the Princess and I hash some things out, I’ll come find you. But for now do you think you could give us-“

“There's nothing to talk about, Twilight. I'm doing this. I leave tomorrow." He deadpans at me.

"Leave? To where?" I ask incredulously. "Don't the Royal Guard train in Canterlot?"

He gives me another unamused deadpan stare, and I take the hint. Topic for tonight, when we can talk everything over properly. I feel something tugging at my gut hearing him declaring all this as if there's nopony else's say to consider, but then again if Princess Luna's already signed off on it, maybe there isn't.

I bite the inside of my lip and take another deep breath in, then out.

"Okay."

We stare at each other for a little while, then I move in to give him a light hug before nodding him towards the door with a forced calmness. He glances between the Princess and me, but seems to understand there's something he can't be here for and mercifully leaves without any more questions. He has to reach for the massive door handles on his own, but once he steps through and into the hallway the Day Guard closes it for him.

Now it's just the Princess and me in the empty chamber, accompanied by the low humming of the still-empowered ritual spell.

"What happens to him?" I ask plainly, massaging the dull ache in my forelock. I take care not to delve too deep into the possibilities in my own mind as they eagerly rise up to suggest any number of unfortunate events that could happen; Speculation isn't where I want to go with this. And now that I know something's wrong, I'm not leaving without an answer.

I say that to myself, but staring up at the stoic Alicorn who's staring back at me with a grim frown, maybe I wouldn't mind if she refused to elaborate... No, I need to know. If not for his sake, for mine.

"Princess, please, you promised you'd explain-"

"It cannot be changed, Twilight." She responds quickly, lowering herself and laying on the ground to be level with me. "You know as well as I, knowing an immutable future has the capacity to bring even the greatest minds to madness. I will keep my word and tell you of Star Swirl, and whatever else you wish to know."

I shake my head violently and march right up to her with a frown, trying my best to seem every bit as stable and stoic as her. "I need to know, Princess. He means everything to me."

There's silence again. She takes a few quick, shallow breaths and closes her eyes tightly, reliving some terrible memory in her mind, then shakes her head. I begin to protest, but she raises a hoof to my mouth to physically silence me. Just like that, being hushed like a child in the midst of at least twenty Vis' worth of magic circles by my mentor, the fight leaves me.

"I know, my dear student. I know."

I take in a sharp breath and tense my shoulders in preparation to yell, to argue, to do something, but she's faster. Before I can blink she rushes forward and pulls me against her, enveloping me completely in her wings. I have to fall backwards onto my flank to avoid toppling over in the rushed embrace.

"Twilight, my most cherished pupil. I need to ask that you place your faith in me once more, as you always have. I swear on my name that I'm not hiding anything from you that you truly should know. To know is my burden to bear, not yours. To assuage your fear, Spike will be fine. Of that, at least, I can promise you." She lays a gold-clad hoof across the back of my neck and leans down to rest her head on top of mine, seeming to not mind my horn pressing into her neck.

Even in the middle of an argument, I'm hard-pressed to keep my cheeks from burning from the intimate attention. I fidget a bit and turn my head to the side so I don't accidentally impale her, but she seems resigned to holding me there until either I break away or agree. I sigh and let my head lay flush with her chest, staring forward at her secondaries in the dim light available to me, thinking about my next few words very carefully. Eventually, I settle on the best policy.

"Princess, I... You're scaring me a little bit. This isn't like you-" I want to continue to argue my point, but a rhythmic thumping tears my attention away from the talking points of why I should be included in this. I furrow my brow and blink a few times, leaning the side of my head further into the coat of her chest, and I hear her heart beneath it all betraying the calm tones with a rapid-fire flurry of beats, nearly twice a second.

My eyes shoot open and I look up at her, instinctually pulling away and searching for signs of anemia or a panic attack. She doesn't restrain me as I do, but she does look down at me with a look I can't spare the processing power to parse as I stare at her eyes. They're dilated, but not abnormally so.

"Hold still," I mumble, reaching a hoof up and laying my pastern across her forehead. Warm, but again not abnormally so. I've never cast it personally, but I know a good diagnostic spell that should theoretically be flexible enough to give me the readings on an Alicorn, even if-

"Twilight, what are you doing?"

I pause mid-spell, still staring right at her with my hoof on her head and a half-cocked spinoff of 'Meadowbrook's Deep-Dive' dancing on the tip of my horn.

"You were showing signs of Tachycardia, though not unheard of while at rest still can be cause for concern. The first step in proper diagnosis is to observe the pony's iris'. If excessive dilation isn't present, several warning signs to keep in mind are elevated temperature, shaking hooves or wings, loss of balance, or-" Her hoof is on my mouth again, and the ringing in my ears I hadn't even realized was there makes itself apparent. She's holding my head in both of her hooves and in an ironic turn of events is examining me now.

"I'm sorry, that's been happening since the... You know." I try to pull my head away from her gaze, but she holds me firmly in place and continues staring into my eyes with a very focused and intense look.

"Since what, precisely? What's happened?" She presses, leaning in closer with growing concern. She takes her eyes off of mine, but in similar fashion begins to drum up a spell for me in turn.

"Princess, I'm- It's okay, Princess Luna said she was going to fix it. I just need to-"

A lightning bolt of pain cracks through my head, and my vision's suddenly a blast of jet white and fuzz. I yank my head away and cradle it in my own hooves as my concentration is shattered. I hear the Princess call out my name, I hear myself gasping for air, I hear the ringing getting louder. It hurts so much, I just need to think.

In the turmoil unfolding in my head I try to find the runic sequence for 'Aville's Cure-All,' but it's lost in the soup of incomprehensible information and jargon that springs forth with even a remote connection to it, adding just one more layer of mind-splitting pain to deal with. I try to ask her to do it, but words are so incomprehensibly beyond me that I stop bothering to try.

There's a forceful jab against my side, and suddenly the world goes mercifully black.

15 - Reprieve

REPRIEVE

… Huh. I’m conscious. Not sure how, but first thing’s first.

I quickly open my eyes. It’s too bright. I quickly close my eyes.

My eyes work.

My left hindleg twitches as I send an impulse to it. Not what I wanted, but at minimum responsive.

Sponges. Primitive sedentary aquatic invertebrate with soft porous bodies that are typically supported by a framework of fibers or calcareous or glassy spicules. Not to be confused with synthetically-manufactured porous substances commonly among household washing and cleaning supplies. Several patents were placed and eventually repealed in Manehattan’s Squeaky Clean v. Department of Qual-

Shut up.

No major inhibiting brain damage... For better or worse. At the very least, I'm being mercifully spared the usual migraine I'm afforded most mornings. It'll happen sooner or later.

I try my eyes again, slowly this time. It's harder than it should be, as if they're weighed down by some unseen force, slow to respond to my commands and stinging like they haven't seen light in weeks. It's a holistically unpleasant experience, but I'm used to that every waking moment. Drop in the bucket.

After a few seconds they finally adjust, and I take in the cold stone that surrounds me. The walls, dull gray stone bricks. Floor, unmarked smooth rock. There’s an elevated wooden platform to lay on beside me with the rough hay fringes of what I presume is a blanket hanging over the edge, and an empty bucket ahead of me for… There’s no way.

The only escape from the gray prison in all directions is the short wall behind me, filled instead with metallic bars that run top to bottom. The rods extend past the stone and into the walls and ceiling, the only part that even seems movable is a thin gate that doesn’t seem to have any physical latch or keyhole.

‘There’s no way this is the Canterlot lockup.’

I gather my strength for another attempt to get my hooves under me. I must have made some noise when I came to, because there’s the rustling of armor from outside the bars.

“Hey. Why is there no toilet in here?” It’s a lame first line, but it’s at the forefront of my mind at the moment. “Plumbing. Heard of it? I can recite the history of its’ developments over the last 400 years if you’d like, riveting st-“

I shut up real quick, because staring back at me are two Lunar Royal Guard, and they look pointedly unimpressed with my existence. Suspicion confirmed, not the Canterlot lockup. New suspicion, torture chambers or one of Luna’s personal off-grid dungeons. Basically the same thing, from my briefings on her.

One of them glances off to the right and nods at somepony out of my line of sight. The other one just stares at me, narrowing their eyes as they size me up. I do the same, but subconsciously. Left, Pegasus, just shy of four heads tall. Mid 20’s, pink coat peeking through cracks in the coat-tight scalemail uniform. Scarred keratin left forehoof, primaries freshly preened and tucked.

Right, Unicorn, late forties. Based on how he’s handling himself he’s worked here a while. Jet white coat, which is strange for a lunar guard, but they don’t discriminate. His horn spirals counter-clockwise, and there’s a noticeable avoidance to put pressure on his right hindleg. Likely a permanent injury.

The pegasus gives me another look-over then turns and trots off to the left, to a post unknown. The unicorn, however, lights his horn and I feel myself suddenly pulled to the ground as a set of ethereal wires leap up and string themselves around my hooves. They anchor me in place, and all I can do is swivel my head and flare my wings in protest.

“Hey! Article seventeen, asshole! Excessive-“

“Quiet.” The unicorn’s gravelly voice cuts down my protest, and another ethereal binding springs up and holds my mouth shut. I keep struggling against the bindings, but it’s purely on instinct. I know the tensile equivalent of a trained unicorn’s holding spells are nearly as good as reinforced synthetic thread, there’s no way I can snap that with my tiny figure.

His horn lights up again. For a second I’m afraid he’s about to bind my wings too, but instead there’s a small latch at the bottom of the bars that opens, and a tray with some hay and what I assume is apple mush floats in just above the ground, landing in front of my bound nose. With a practiced timing the latched grate reseals itself, and the magical threads dissipate.

“Asshole!” I yell again, but he’s already turned tail and begun walking away.

’Should I ask where I am? They won’t answer, they’re uptight pricks.’

I start to think about studying the stonework for architectural clues to possibly narrow down locations based on the availability of materials per region, but the rumbling in my belly gets the better of me. I hold a hoof against my stomach until it settles again, then pick myself up and take a small step towards the ‘meal.’

I sit and lean forward, sniffing at it. The hay is dry and flaky, and the mashed apple is literally just a mashed apple. Skin shavings are riddled throughout it, and I have to use my hoof to poke a core seed out of the pile. Yep, that’s great. Could have at least included some greens.

I let out a deep sigh, pondering how it came to this. I was supposed to be killed after I got captured, and there’s no way the Timekeeper would jeopardize his plans just to save me. I don’t know too much by design, but if I were him I’d have killed me like we agreed on. I sift through dozens of interactions with him and other operatives in my mind, snippets of information and details swiftly trying to interlock with others to build a bigger picture, but for the first time in a while the pieces don’t fit. I’m missing some central link, some detail that makes it all work.

I bite at the inside of my lip, tapping my hoof against the stone impatiently. After half a minute of failed ideas and impossible mental timelines, I shake my head free of the theorizing before it can run me into the ground. If I give my mind an inch it’ll take my whole body down.

Shut up. Eat your stale hay.

I lean down and take a huge mouthful, chewing and grinding it into smaller strands. It feels like it’s falling apart into dust in my mouth, but my stomach pushes me forward and I swallow it down anyway. The mush is a bit better, it’s still hydrated at least. If I close my eyes and ignore the peels I can almost imagine it’s apple sauce. I used to love the apple sauce we had when I was a filly. It was expensive to import it from Sweet Apple Acres, but it was always a great treat.

It only takes a minute and a half and I’ve cleared the tray. I might be small, but I’m efficient. I stand up and shake my body out, rolling my shoulders and stretching my feathers wide, enjoying the tingling of my muscles flexing and settling again. I start looking my cell up and down, taking stock of the few details there are.

Wooden platform. Blanket, hay instead of straw. Tray, wooden. Stone, type yet to be identified. Bucket, wood and metal, unriveted. Myself. Metal grate, composition unknown. Lunar guards, scalemail, count unknown. I let my brain do its’ thing, taking in all the variables, compartmentalizing them, and trying to fit them together into something recognizable. The stonework is ancient, nopony sculpts or lays brick like this in the modern era. The floor looks smooth, but looking closer I can see hairline fractures all across it. Not only that, but the walls too.

I take a step back and compare the walls of my cell to the walls across the hall from me, tracing the line of the lowest row of bricks. They’re not even. Whether by faulty design or from sinking into the unreinforced ground over the years, there’s varying points of structural stress all along the walls. It’s not much, but it could be a vulnerability if I had the strength of an earth pony.

Clay-based mortar. The thought strikes me as I’m examining the thin film between layers. Years ago I read a passage on stonemasonry practices of the medieval ages, and before modern mixing or the more recent concrete methods, they used clay-based mortar to meld each layer.

The last piece rotates and clicks, and I might have an idea on how to escape. I’m going to need information, patience, and water.

And a hooficure.

I hear the latch to my chambers come undone and I snap to consciousness. I’m not rested enough to fulfill any additional duties yet, but with any luck this will be sister or Crescent with good news.

The door opens and the heavily obfuscated light raises the room from a comfortable pitch black to a moonless night level of darkness. Based on the silhouette it’s Crescent Slash, eldest among the Royal Division and Captains alike. I can presume his report.

“You bring news?” I murmur, letting my head list to the side to face him. Through my mane I see his head shift in what I take to be a nod.

“I've come to report she has awakened, as requested, Nightmother. We await your command.”

“Is sister still with her?” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and kicking at the blanket holding me hostage. Crescent gives pause for a moment, and the hesitation sparks my interest.

“Captain, we have raised a query.” I press.

“Yes, Nightmother. Permissio-“

The corner of my mouth twitches in annoyance, and with a flick of my horn the door closes behind him and the nightlight enchantments fade slightly, allowing us to see one another with our dark sight.

“Speak freely here, Crest. I loathe repeating so.” I prop myself up on a forehoof, looking him over from the other side of the room. He’s large for a pegasus, if you were unable to see his wings you would likely think him an earth pony. His age has sapped the color from his mane, leaving what was once a rich brown the dull and flat gray of the wise, though the years have not taken his spirit. His hooves support a heavily muscular build, with a slick gray coat and a Cutie Mark of a crescent moon. It blends in a gradient from white at the center to the same gray as his coat at the ends, as if to mimic a fading scar. I’ve allowed myself to become familiar with him over the years since my return, and he has provided us an outlet for our many stresses on more than one occasion.

“Your sister is in a fragile state, Luna. I know you have your ways and I won’t pry, but I’ve seen that look of hers before. It could do you both good to discuss the mare plainly, and her place here, rather than guiding the situation from the shadows.” He keeps a level eye and tries to keep the tone of lecture out of his voice, likely out of respect to the crown. It’s appreciated, nonetheless.

I mull over the words in my head, chewing at my lip as my eyes slowly drift to the floor while I think it over. He is likely correct, but for all the things that I may be capable of, addressing Twilight with her in a way that sister wouldn’t shut me out? Impossible. She keeps her student close to her chest, though whether for love, pride, or necessity I cannot know. She has taught the mare well; Astute and logical, with a decidedly strong sense of tongue-in-cheek wit. It all screams Celestia, though who am I to judge the nature of her prodigy?

“We find it difficult to discuss such matters with her. She is… Guarded, even to us.” It stings a bit to admit it, but it’s the truth. “We have also just completed a three hour neurological miracle surgery by modern pony standards, and we are exhausted.”

Crescent gives me an unamused look, as if to assert dishonesty in my words.

“That sounds like excuses, Luna. All due respect.” He smirks a bit while I glare at him, but I don’t take the bait. Instead I turn away and let my head fall backwards back onto the mound of plush pillows, staring at the swirls and dots decorating the enchanted canopy as they mimic the passing night sky.

“Perhaps, but also perhaps not. ‘Tis an honest excuse. Regardless, sister will wish for a time with the mare.”

I hear him sigh from the door, and he begins to shuffle over towards the bed. There’s a light rattle and a thunk! as he sets his helmet on the nearest nightstand. I turn to look at him as he hops up into the bed with me, but he pushes past and sits beside my head, reaching over with a hoof to pull my messy ethereal mane away from my face.

“Even immortals can’t escape feelings, Luna. You know that better than any of us. Even if it’s hard, you’ll be happier if you have a sister you can lean on, instead of dance around.”

I reach up to cup his hoof in my own, holding it fast against my cheek. I pick myself up and shift to the right, closing my eyes and laying my head in his lap, careful to angle my horn away from him while I hum contently.

“We thank you for your honesty, as always.”

I feel him take a breath to continue his thought, but I nuzzle my head up against his stomach needily, and he lets it go. Instead, he leans forward and presses the end of his nose to the side of my head, draping a hoof around my shoulders in a hug and caressing my face with the other.

In the many years of my banishment, perhaps even before then, this is what I had yearned for most. To be comforted, to be understood and accepted. He may not be Celestia, though nor are any of the others whom find their way into my bed. He is happy to console and bring peace to my mind, and that is enough. Right this very moment, it is enough. And until tomorrow, enough is all I need.

Why didn’t I create a spare amulet? Why didn’t I practice fine reconstitution medicinal spellcraft? Why did I let Star Swirl meander away? Why didn’t I see this coming? Why didn’t I-

I slam a fiery hoof into the earth below me and the hill rumbles and shakes. A small explosion of fire erupts from beneath my bare hoof as I scream as loudly as I’m capable, putting the Royal Canterlot Voice to shame. A moment later I feel the ground slump an inch lower as the dirt and rocks shift away from the small crater of an impact.

I pull the hoof away, and beneath the smoldering dirt and grass is the charred remains of a sunflower, facing the sun one last time as it crumbles into ash. The moon should be up by now- I’ve long since set the sun- but sister has been rectifying the small mistake of allowing Twilight to maim her own mind with forbidden magic that we had agreed to reserve for world-threatening emergencies. Of all the moronic, uncalculated, brazenly ignorant-

I scream again, my mane and tail erupting in searing flames that explode out in all directions, burning and scorching the surrounding plains and burning brighter than a star in the night sky for miles. Some ponies in the outskirts of Baltimare might see me, from the many miles away, or even get a picture of my tantrum, but to tartarus with it.

Of all the traitorous and deceitful actions she could take, to use Twilight as bait! TWILIGHT! She knows! She knows what she means to- Is that why she did it? No, Lulu wouldn’t do that out of some sense of spite… Would she? No- but… No.

The world around me is shimmering, and the superheated air burns my lungs as I breathe it in, but the feeling reminds me to control my outbursts. ‘Meter the frustration, Celestia. Be angry, but don’t be too angry. You’re a danger when you’re too angry.’

I take in another deep breath of burning oxygen and hold it, then force it all out in a flaming huff of embers and smoke. The flames recede from my mane, now content to simply glow a bright gold as a beacon against the night.

“What happened, Lulu? Why won’t you simply talk to me?” I mutter into the empty sky, casting my gaze to the clear and starless night. It’s a free canvas, with unlimited potential. I stare at the daunting prospect blankly for a minute or two, then I decide I’ll do something selfish myself. Turnabout is surely fair play here? Nothing malicious, but something to show Twilight’s importance in a way even she could grasp.

I summon the old magics of sky forging, the familiar pull of the heavens on my horn made more foreign by the lack of a celestial body. I reach out with my magic, grasping firmly at both mine and sister’s birthrights, and then I pull. Both sun and moon obey my command, and I will them to the skies once more. My sun resists slightly, not used to rising from the west, but it yields, hidden just beneath the horizion from which it had set. The rich and vibrant reds and oranges creep over the barrier between night and day, tinting the canvas with life, but they’re fleeting as the moon reclaims the eastern sky beyond sight, threatening to suck up all the tints and hues to leave the sky a dark and void black.

That’s the struggle of it all, if you think about it. It’s poetic if you take the time to appreciate the nuance behind the subversive nature of the sky and its’ crowning jewels. One to brighten, one to stand among the darkness. Neither to perpetuate, but never to cease trying.

“Neither of them should last forever, Lulu…”

I pour everything into my horn. Polaris’ set position as my guiding light, I pull from Luna’s moon, ripping free a small shard and moulding it into a tiny sliver of lunar material, setting it gently among the Majors in the very center of the sky, evenly spaced between both sister and I. Once I’m satisfied it’ll hold fast against the pull of the land, I reach out and siphon a sliver of myself from beyond the horizon. There’s a pang of emptiness left in its’ wake as it shoots across the sky, but I brush past it.

With a final coalescence, the lunar core of the new star is ignited as it explodes across the night sky in a brilliant arc of light, likely waking every mare, colt, and filly in Equestria to witness its’ grandiose birth.

There’s a slight breeze that rolls across the land and blows past me as the massive wave of pressure from the fusion makes landfall, but by the time it reaches Equestria it’s harmless.

I look up at the night sky, illuminated by a single brilliantly shining beacon to the north, and smile. This will be my testament to our future. Though unconventional it may be, it’s one of the highest honors either sister or myself are capable of bestowing, crown or no.

’Perhaps she’ll recover swiftly, and be able to see her new star herself.’ I muse, letting my body relax as I slump to the ground after the taxing process.

As an afterthought I paint a wide aurora running across the frozen lands, to give it a proper backdrop among its’ otherwise empty night sky. I haven’t the artistry of my sister, nor the skill of a great painter, but commanding the heaves in all its’ forms is my birthright, mother shun me if I can’t make at least one good star in it.

Looking behind me I see the city lighting up in the distance, and a few black dots rise up from the skyline to witness the rare event from the air. I smile inwardly, looking back to the first astral creation I’ve birthed in millennia. It’ll need a name, and some institutions will be furious with me for not scheduling such a monumental change to a major navigational system, but that’s all unimportant for now.

“Vespera.” The word rolls out of my mouth, and I smile again.

‘Old Ponish, though she’ll likely know what it means.’

As much as I would love nothing more than to decompress at the edges of Equestria’s border under a very late twilight sky, I need to get back to Canterlot. I’ve indulged my emotions enough, the ponies need their ruler.

I charge the long-distance teleport spell, and in a moment all that’s left where I was sitting is a black hilltop, topped by a charred dead sunflower.

“Twilight Sparkle.”

I slam my hoof down onto the ornately carved desk. In a wide sweep, I throw everything over the side and watch as the maps and scrolls fly through the air in chaotic disarray. The old mahogany groans in protest at the abuse, but it’s handled much worse.

“Twilight Sparkle, Twilight Sparkle! Blast it all, if I have to loop again because of this I’ll spend an entire loop just to jump straight to this time and burn that entire township to the ground!” I raise both forehooves into the air and prepare to slam them down again, but rational thought quickly returns to quell the urge. Slowly, I let them fall onto the now-empty desk, leaning forward on it for support while I consider my next move.

There’s a knock on the door about ten seconds later, and Hot Streak, my clerical assistant earth pony, pokes his head in.

“Timekeeper, you good? Not to interrupt but lik-“ His eyes go wide as a bright eldritch green bolt strikes him between the eyes. The spell is fast and efficient, as his coat and skin degrade and flake into a brittle stone-like dust, spreading and crumbling away from the point of impact. In less than half a minute, he’s a distant memory as I shove the door through the pile of debris to close it.

Good, peace and quiet again. I used to hate having to do that when I traversed to Beta timelines, but I’ve done it so many times now it’s practically a chore. So much simpler to shelf the alternate timeline discussions this way than have to explain that nothing I do will matter in a few minutes when I traverse back to the Alpha. Nothing personal, it’s simply the most time-effective process. I’m sure they’d understand.

Back to the issue at hand; Twilight Sparkle didn’t submit, didn’t even consider it. She’s intelligent, skilled, and has the backing of both Celestia and her sister. The disadvantages here are insurmountable. Killing her- truly and irreparably killing her- would likely cause a country-ending conniption fit, either by policy or by fire. Quite likely the latter.

I could wait for her to die of old age, but with a wellspring of her size she’ll likely make it to two hundred fifty barring fatal accidents. And if she learns my Delay spell? She could stretch those years across centuries.

I can’t kill her, out-waiting her would mean starting from scratch and giving Celestia possibly another millennium to plan on how to track me, and she won’t see the reason in my method, making recruitment an impossibility. I’m out of easy options. I could attempt to prevent a major event leading to her rise to prominence in Celestia’s eyes, but that runs its’ own risks if the events leading to their coupling were more than happenstance. If it was divined and I were to interrupt the natural flow of events, it could tip her off prematurely.

With a huff I leave the table be and fall back into my chair, losing myself in thought until another pony rasps on my door. Bucking hells, I need to stop deviating in populated areas, being interrupted defeats the entire point of occupying a beta timeline.

“You may enter.” I think to just vaporize them too, but if this is who I think it is, I could benefit from knowing what he’s about to say when I return to the alpha.

A tan earth pony shoves the door through the pile of ash and dust, spreading it in a small semicircle on the floor and stepping gingerly over the spread. He glances around the room at the disheveled books and scrolls, then back to me with his signature friendly smile.

“Hey, uh… Did you need Mace to clean that up? Happy to grab her. Sorry, wasting time, pet peeve, I know- I just wanted to know if the dinner party in Manehattan is still going forward this Friday as planned. Got Hot Streak to plan the logistics, I’m covering the infiltration, just need the go-ahead.”

I give him a hard gaze.

“You know full well the plan hasn’t changed, ask what you’re going to ask.”

He keeps smiling for a bit, but the fascade falls away quickly into a hard stare of his own. He swallows and raises his head, hoofing at the ground uncharacteristically.

“Is she…?”

“Goldfish is dead, yes.”

He takes a second to process it, but quickly his back straightens and he lets out a deep sigh. He knew the moment she was caught what it meant, they both did.

I’m a bit surprised to see him back to smiling so quickly, though. Even for Dear Friend, rebounding so quickly from such morbid news is unnatural.

“I’m glad, then. She was having a rough time of it, I’m happy she’s done suffering.”

I raise a brow.

“Optimism from you is hardly genuine, Friend. I wouldn’t fault you for being upset, you did recruit her only recently.”

Dear Friend was the definition of a low-life when I found him. He sold narcotics in the streets of Manehattan for a living, after Duke Beaches set him up for a political fall when his wife admitted to having an affair with him. After being shunned from high society, he found he had nowhere to utilize his special talent to the fullest, and that void was the exploit to win him over. With me, I allow him to utilize his talents to their fullest not for personal gain, but for a great and noble cause; The saving of Equestria from the Diarchy and the Classist ruling society that had shunned him. So long as he believes that, he’s mine.

It plays to his ego, gives him purpose, and turns him into an extremely loyal piece for my board. Even the end of this week will mark the potential establishment of a new feed of information from the Duchess of Manehattan herself, whom has ties to Celestia’s internal information agency. It would be a great boon, and nopony else within my reach would have the suave persuasiveness to pull it off as Dear.

“No, really- It might sound awful out loud, but I’m used to seeing colleagues go the short way. I try to look at it for what it’s worth, what’s that word you use? Prismatically, eh?”

“Pragmatically. I admire the forward thinking, though take your time if you need to. We have all the time in the world, remember.”

He blinks at that. He glances around the room again and then quickly back to me and opens his mouth, but he hesitates. Something I’ve never known him to do.

“Is something the matter?”

His ears perk up and he snaps out of it, back to his perpetual performance again.

“Oh, no! Sorry, I was just thinking about it again, and… Maybe you’re right, boss. I think I’m a bit jumbled up after the last couple days. Going from Ponyville for months, now Manehattan, I think it would be best we delay. I need to be at my best for this, we can’t lose a line to SMILE because I let my nerves-“

“Please, say no more, Dear.” I let myself relax a bit. It’s a waste of time that he couldn’t just have admitted it from the start, but it explains him acting differently.

Frankly, I agree. He should take some time, let me rearrange the event for next month for when he’s at his best. I don’t want him fumbling like this when he’s in front of duchess Beaches again. If she doesn’t bite, all this goes up in smoke, along with our line to Celestia’s secret informant agency.

“I’ll handle things here, discuss where you’ll be with Hot Streak, and reconvene no later than the twentieth of next month.”

He blinks again, but quickly smiles in appreciation.

“Right, will do, boss. Sorry for the hassle. By the by, where is Streaks?”

Oh. That’s right, I disintegrated him in this Beta. I glance past him at the pile of ashes blocking the door. A shame, I suppose that’s as far as this line of dialogue goes.

“I believe they went to lunch, check in again soon. Until then you’re relieved of duty for the time being, go and do… Whatever you need to.” I make up something remotely plausible, if you put aside the fact that it’s half past three and the lack of any genuine effort in my words. This timeline is now worthless moving forward, everything from here on deviates from the Alpha. Wasting time explaining anything to this fake copy of Dear does nothing for me, no point putting forth the effort.

“Oh, right. I’ll just-“

As he turns away I reach out with my horn, muttering the verbal component for my severing spell. I don’t hear whatever he says next as I’m pulled and torn across dimensions. The lurching discomfort is only momentary, and nearly instantly I find myself sat back in the center of my office, perfectly tidy save for the few residual particulates of mana still ebbing through the air after my Divergence ritual. The floor before the door is clear, my scrolls are in order on my desk, and nopony else is here to ramble on about their personal issues.

I allow myself a small sigh. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I could simply clone myself to assist my efforts. Surely I’d be further along usurping the throne than this? Even my most dependable pony is having trouble keeping up and it’s getting tiring, all the hoofholding. But I’ve had my moment of respite, I’ll need to play my part all the same as them if I’m to get much further this time.

I hear a knock on my door, and I trot over to my desk, blinking any trace of my Divergence spell out of existence before sitting down at the tidy study.

“You may enter.”

This is where I’m comfortable. I know how everything plays out, what to do and say, and how to say it. Dear Friend, your special talent may be your charisma, but even you can’t outmaneuver me. Not in my element. There’s only one pony capable of that, and she’s hiding away in Canterlot Castle.

Dear Friend steps into the room looking as confident as ever, and I take a deep breath.

“Good afternoon, Friend. Did you have a question?” I prompt after he fails to begin the conversation.

“No, not particularly, I just wanted to let you know I’ll be leaving for Manehattan first thing in the morning. I’ll be borrowing Hot Streak for an hour to get my route settled and make a few drops on the way, if that’s acceptable, Timekeeper?”

I blink this time. This is an entirely different conversation from the one I just had. Didn’t he say Hot Streak already plan his route?

“Yes, I was thinking about that, and I think it might be best for us to postpone until next month. Some ponies backed out last moment, and I need to be absolutely certain this proceeds smoothly.”

He looks confused, but nods slowly in understanding.

“Okay… That’s a shame, but the Beaches will be there whenever we’re ready, I guess. Where did you want me stationed in the meantime?”

“No need to have you stationed for the time being. After recent events I believe it would do you some good to take a breather, as it were. We’ll resume this line of discussion by the 20th, but in the meantime stay in contact with your SMILE informant wherever possible. Save for that, enjoy your first month off since your last mission.”

I expect to see a slew if different emotions run across his face when I order him to take time off, but he simply stands there with a straight face and nods.

“That obvious, huh?” He glances around the room, idly hoofing at the ground. “I won’t say no boss, I never do, but know that I’m still the best pony for the job. You can count on it.” He forces a toothy grin, but I’m already sifting through my notes, rebalancing the schedule to accommodate this massive upset in expectations.

“Quite right, Friend. If that’s all, we’ll reconvene soon. And also… My condolences.”

He strangely doesn’t react to that either, he just continues to smile, though the teeth are gone now. He gives a small (and as always, unnecessary) bow, and trots out of my office.

I keep staring at the door for a while after he leaves, contemplating what just happened. Something drastic shifted in his approach to the conversation, it was entirely unlike the Beta timeline. What are the differentials?

I glance across my tidy desk, tomes and scrolls piled and assorted neatly. Looking over it I stare at the door again, and the clean floor beneath it.

Ah, that’ll do it.

Friend deduced something from the state of the office and changed his thinking in the moment. It explains the unnatural sentimentality and lapses in character, but it doesn’t tell me what the purpose or rationale for it was. He seemed perfectly fine in reality. Well, this reality, anyway.

“Tartarus with it.” I curse, abandoning the conjecture and mulling over what to do next. The chance of getting detained without an opportunity to reset now that… She… Is involved is high, though I have several variables to solve before I can plan this portion of events next try.

I’ll wait a bit longer. Stay out of the brunt of things, minimize profile, gather information. When I can figure out what makes Sparkle tick, what Friend’s submotives are, and anything on Celestial’s information network, I’ll reset and commit it to memory.

With a tired sigh I lean back in my chair, closing my eyes and bringing a tired hoof up to them, draping a fetlock over my face to block the light of the room. My joints are starting to ache, and I’ve barely been awake a day and a half since the Everfree ambush. I need to find years to save by this point, if I reach my endgame at a hundred thirty years old again the chances I meet my end get much higher.

That, and these appearance altering charms are a pain to recharge. Can’t have anypony thinking I’m a frail old colt, image is everything when recruiting in the later stages, though there might be an angle appealing to age equating to wisdom.

Topic to delve into another time, however. I have a few hours before I need to be in Saddle Arabia, and the preparations are already in place. This body needs some real rest. I cast a simple Alarm cantrip over the door, then my muscles and bones relax for the first time in weeks from their perspective. I’ve slept in Beta timelines at least every three days, but this Alpha body needs to recuperate in a way my magic can’t fix.

Two hour nap, then we get back to business.

16 - Interpersonal

INTERPERSONAL

“-should keep better track of thine instruments, sister! Begone for a time, we must focus-“

Luna…?

”-Take care of this, Twily. I promise.”

… Shiny…?

My head’s swimming, I can’t get a grasp on what’s happening, but I recognize that voice. I’d recognize it anywhere. I force myself to stay awake this time, and I struggle to lift myself upright in an attempt to look around, but something’s covering my eyes and a sturdy hoof presses against my chest, guiding me back to wherever I’m laying.

“Easy there, Twily. Hey, it’s alright, everything’s great, you just need to relax for a little while.”

I don’t have it in me to fight it, and instead I focus on the hoof, reaching a blind foreleg over it and trying to use it to anchor me to the waking realm.

“What’s going on? I was…” I trail off, wading through the haze and muck of my mind, trying desperate to remember. The Princess, Spike, the pain, the spell…

“The spell!” I try again to lurch into a sitting position, panic surging through my head and chest in a jolt of recollection. Shiny keeps me down, though, and I reach a hoof up to my head and start clawing at whatever’s obstructing my vision. It finds purchase on a band of fabric, and before he has a chance to protest I tear it away and there’s a blinding ray of sunlight that beams me in the face for my trouble.

“Augh! Oowwww…” My other hoof leaves Shiny’s and darts up to my face to cover my eyes back up, and in a miscalculation of required force I jab myself in the eye, curling up and clutching at the stinging sensation, hoping if I put pressure on it It’ll ease.

“Twilight, Twilight! Oh, jeez, uh- H-hey, here, let me, uhh…!” There’s a quick ta-ta-ta-ta-ta! of a curtain being flung closed, and once again there’s a familiar presence in front of me as Shiny lays a hoof over my side and pulls me fast against him, coddling me like a foal as I wince and groan for a full minute or two. He doesn’t say anything, but when I'm confident enough to open my eyes again I notice his expression quickly shift from deep concern to a shallow smile. Eventually I feel well enough to sit up (slowly, I get it BBBFF) and study my surroundings more intently. It looks like the medical ward, though the room is decorated in marble and gold rather than stark white.

"I was casting a spell before I lost my concentration, where's Princess Celestia? Was she able to salvage it? Is the castle okay? And what are you doing here, I thought you were with a detachment on the Saddle Arabian border." All these things tumble out of me in quick succession, causing Shiny to laugh gently for a moment before turning serious.

"She's holding Day Court, and everything's fine. Let's just worry about you for a bit, okay?" With that he scoots to the side and nods over his shoulder where Spike stands silent as a statue beside the doorway watching me recover. A few seconds later he steps forward, stepping up on top of something to be level with my bed and placing a hand on my shoulder to pull himself close, leaning his head against me without saying a word.

"Spike, I thought-"

"Princess Luna said it was okay for me to stay a few more days. You Pinkie Promised, remember?" He remarks dryly, but I can tell there's some humor in it. It ebbs the tension like a tide, and I give him a tired smile.

"Yeah, I did. But first-" I lurch forward to pull him over the edge and onto the bed with me, wrapping him up in a big hug. Shiny starts to reprimand me for moving so roughly and starts to complain, but it just serves as an excuse to pull him into it too, and we all have a big family reunion hug.

“When did you get all sappy, Twilight?” Spike asks with a chuckle, and I respond with a gentle knock to the top of his head before we break away from each other. Shiny has his lips locked together like he’s holding back his laughter. I shake my head, smiling.

"It's not sappy, Spike. I just missed you guys." I answer, and I can see both of them blush a little as they try to act cool. Boys. “Okay, maybe a little sappy.”

Shiny, Spike and I catch each other up on the past couple of months since we’ve seen each other. Turns out he’s about as informed on what’s been going on in Ponyville as we are, and he lets us know that Papers was released after Luna cleared him personally. They have Goldfish in custody at a secret holding facility that he can’t disclose, though he coughs in a way that sounds suspiciously like ‘Ohldcastle!’ Which must mean the Castle of the Two Sisters deep in the Everfree, where Luna made her return from her Nightmare with the help if the Elements.

I make an off-hoof comment about not having a headache for the first time all week, and they both get a little quiet and glance at each other. I glance back at each of them and it clicks in my mind that I was coming to Canterlot in the first place so that Princess Luna could undo the damage the amulet did to my brain. They confirm that I did, in fact, undergo major neurosurgery while I was out, though it’s being kept under tight wraps for the time being. Despite my nagging curiosity to know more, I just want to relax in the quiet moment with my brother and Spike, and we put a pin in it for the time being.

Shiny’s in the middle of a story about how he busted a big racketeering ring in Manehatten when I feel myself starting to yawn. He keeps going for a little while and Spike cuddles up beside me somewhere between the part where Chief Backwards forgets his badge and the tramcar incident, and he’s out like a light shortly after. The story teeters off and we both watch him for a little bit.

“Do you and Cadence think you’ll have foals?” I ask absentmindedly. Shiny looks up at me for a second, then grins. "What? Just wondering.”

“Nothing. Yeah, I think so. I’m holding off on the idea for a little while while we get the Crystal Empire situation in order, she’s gonna need her head in the game for that. It’s been rough on her, having all the work on her plate. I’ve actually been thinking of asking for a kind of lateral move, so I can be there to help her.” That catches me by surprise, and he looks at the closed curtain idly as if lost in thought.

“You’d retire as Captain already? But it’s what you always dreamed of, and you just got it!” I protest. Shiny shakes his head.

“No, not retiring. Just… a promotion. To, uh, well, I don't know what I want to call it yet. Maybe a general staff position, I guess. Something where I can still help out around the castle, but maybe focus more on the day-to-day operations. The Crystal Empire retains their autonomy from Equestria, but they’re going to need a lot if help if they’re going to survive the winters without much farmable land, or border security. Wendigo aren't the only threats that far north.“ He gives me a weak forced smile, and it gives me a sense of the huge weight that must be on Cadence’s shoulders, too.

“I didn’t realize it was that volatile, I guess it explains why she hasn't been back since she was appointed. Have the crystal ponies been helpful, at least? Nopony's trying to replace her or anything, right?"

He gives me a bit of a side eye at the negatively-charged question, but shakes his head. "No, everypony's approved of Cadence ever since an old academic named Sunburst dug up an old family tree proving she was a descendant of Princess Amore, back from Old Equestria. I dunno what that has to do with her ability to lead, but hey, that's politics." He rubs his forehead in small circles and scoffs a bit, but it fades quickly. I make a mental note to visit Cadence as soon as I have the free time. Who knows, maybe I can find some way to help while I'm there? If Shiny's even half-right about the workload she's under, I bet she'd appreciate what she can get.

The thought's interrupted by a huge yawn, and it takes a second to realize that one was me, not Spike.

"You sure you don't want anything? You've been under half a day, and it wouldn't kill you to get a few more calories in." He chides, poking at my stomach with a grin. I jerk instinctually away without thinking, and Spike's head rolls off my chest and against the nook of my shoulder. I glare back at Shiny, and he raises both his forehooves in apology. "My bad, toootally forgot you're ticklish there-“ He turns his gaze to the ceiling at an odd angle with a smirk that doesn't at all match the gesture of surrender. 'I forgot' my flank.

"It's fine," is what I say instead. "But if you reeeeally want to make it up to me~" I put on the adorable-little-sister eyes and pout a bit. He deadpans and raises a brow, then sighs.

"Hey, come on, put those away. What're you hungry for: Daffodil sandwich, or pineapple pancakes?" He asks, and I roll my eyes at him. “Daffodil, got it. Hang tight, I’ll be right back.” He turns tail and trots away before I can antagonize him any more.

I smile and lay back against the wooden headboard, reaching a hoof around Spike’s back and across his shoulders as he snoozes. A little jostle and a gentle readjustment from my telekinesis and he’s back against my chest, instead of awkwardly face-planting my shoulder. The bed’s a far cry from my comfy bundle of cotton and stuffing back home, but it definitely beats a hospital. Perks of being important, I guess.

I shake the thought out of my head, keeping my humility in check. Hubris is a slippery slope, after all. And besides, I didn't get the princess to do this for me, so I don't need to feel too special about it… Though I’m definitely glad that she did.

…

‘Pineapples.’

…

Nothing. No blast of pineapple-related trivia, pineapple farming techniques, pineapple import and export taxes or anything else pineapple. Just the empty resonant idea bouncing around in my own mind, and the content silence I’m wading in. No numbing spells, no headache, just my own head with what I’m thinking in it, and nothing else.

I slink lower against the headboard, settling into the small stack of goldleaf-adorned pillows as they raise up to cradle me. With one more content sigh, I close my eyes and fail to suppress the grin growing on my lips. I might have botched the future-seeing spell, but I have everypony on my side to help with Star Swirl, Princess Luna seems to have fixed my head after I misused her device (with good intent!) And Shiny’s on a food run to the kitchen for one of my favorite snacks. There’s more to do, definitely, but I’m pretty confident I can handle things now that the Princesses are receptive to letting me help.

I brush my hoof idly up and down Spike’s back, drifting from thought to thought and relishing the serene moment of stillness.

“-meet expectations, Princess?”

I take in a quick breath and reorient my face back to the whiteboard one of my city planners has been drawing on for the last 10 minutes. There’s a lot of red arrows and circles pointing to pictures of potholes and loose pavement in the outer edges of the residential district, though the figures beside his approximations are astronomical.

“I understand and agree with your proposal,” I lie, “only it concerns me that your estimate projects nearly triple the allotted annual budget for both yours and that of Public Safety on this one project.” I raise a gold-clad hoof toward the top-left of the board, where there are at least one too many commas in the expected cost, and tilt my head to prompt him for an explanation. As he opens his mouth to offer one he undoubtedly had prepared, I continue in order to throw him off.

“I have seen and rejected the frivolous proposal by the Gem family for golden-inlaid stonework in the Noble district, I don’t suppose this has any root in such a costly operation?” I keep the polite smile on my face, but the shamelessly underhoofed attempt by the family to sneak their gaudy proposal past both myself and my treasury is quickly wearing my patience thin.

“Uh- I- I don’t believe I’ve signed off on any gold stonework, though I’ll certainly have another through look and return with a more favorable estimate, Princess.” He bows low, and I can see the embarrassment plain as day burning on his face.

I can’t remember his name for the life of me. For most ponies that’s an acceptable, even expected lapse in memory, though not for myself. I’m afforded no social luxury when it comes to statecraft, doing something so callous as asking somepony their name is both an interpersonal faux pas and a political blunder. It affords the other party leverage in the conversation due to a lack of preparation on my behalf. I rarely blunder so, though at this level even minor mistakes often cost the crown in the thousands of bits, let alone image.

“See to it that you do. You are dismissed. Mister Scales, please issue a 400 bit fine to the Gemstone family for minor infractions on anti-trust policy number three.” It’s a paltry sum for their family, but the purpose isn’t for them to pay the fine, it’s a sign that I won’t suffer their antics any longer. I glance to my left where a middle-aged earth pony stallion swiftly racks an abacus left and right, adjusting his glasses and jotting down a few numbers on a long parchment of fines and restitution to be balanced for the week. Nopony uses an abacus anymore, they’ve taken to quill-and-parchment methods in more modern times, but it’s refreshing to see a relic of the past used to such effectiveness even at the highest level.

“Noted, Princess.”

My mind flashes back to Twilight, recovering in the medical wing. I’ve made the accommodations as comfortable as possible, and Spike has been by her side from the moment Luna concluded the renewal. It’s restoration magic we typically don’t use on our subjects, few know we’re capable of healing so potent, though hers is much more powerful.

A flash of contempt crosses my mind as I recall sister’s briefing of events.

‘Perhaps it would be best to restrict access to relics for a time, until she learns more restraint.’ I ponder to myself, but it’s a heavily biased thought. We’re equals, and so it’s not my place to bar her from anything I also maintain access to. Perhaps there’s merit to that line of thought, actually.

“Princess Celestia, that concludes your appointments for the evening. The Astronomer’s Guild still seeks a revised star chart for the Committee of Navigational Pathfinders, and Prince Blueblood has requested a-“

“Tell him that if he wants to start his enterprise, he’ll need to fill out the required paperwork and article DI-13 like everypony else.” I cut off the familiar message. My nephew is many things, graceful in his approach for favors is not one of them. He wishes to try his hand at running a business, though he requests the startup capital from the crown, and in public forum. It’s a favor I would be willing to afford him privately if he’d displayed any promise or benefit to the city with it, but when I inquired the goal he merely shrugged and retorted that he ‘thought it might be an entertaining venture.’

“Of course, Princess.” The secretary replies, bowing low and trotting out the huge double doors to the throne room, the two guards stationed there closing them behind him. With them gone, it’s just myself and a hoof-full of my day-to-day aides and assistants. One or two of them are still jotting notes or doing idle work, trying their best to display their work ethic while in my presence.

“That will be all for today, everypony. I have personal matters to attend to, though I will be available if my guidance is needed. Enjoy your night, everypony.” I nod left and right at them, and a few nod back, others do a relaxed half-salute, and one bows. I indulge the formality for about half a minute before I stand up, craning my neck and arching my back after a long day of delegation and statesmareship. I want to roll my shoulders and pop my back, but that far surpasses the threshold of ‘acceptable’ and into ‘Goddesses don’t use the bathroom’ levels of casuality.

It’s a difficult and delicate dichotomy to be seen as both an immutable perfect being of infinite wisdom, and as a compassionate and understanding pony just like them, but I manage. The dirty little secret is that I’m neither. Nor is sister for that matter, though she displays such an open compassion that most ponies see her as a subordinate to myself rather than the second diarch she rightfully is. Maybe together we might come close to what the public sees me as, though barely.

We’re both ponies just like everypony else. We’re neither omnipotent nor without flaw, though the millennia have worn away some senses such as perspective and the familiarity with certain emotions to a dull edge, blunted by repeated blows from mother death and father time.

I make my way out of the throne room and towards the medical wing. Quickly I’m reminded by my body that I skipped breakfast in my heated argument with Luna over the birth of a new star. I’m resolved to continue anyway, but the thought occurs to me that Twilight may be hungry herself when she wakes. Perhaps a quick detour, then.

I trot a bit more quickly to make up for the time my indecision cost me, and with a few quick turns, jaunts, and polite ‘good morning’s I’m in the dining hall. There’s strangely no serva- Waiters, I mean- present. I take a peek around the room and no other staff nor sister are present either, and I smile at the rare opportunity afforded to me.

I quickly trot to the back of the room and through a nook in the corner into the kitchens, intent on preparing a meal myself for the first time in months. To my surprise, standing opposite me with his horn ablaze is my Captain, a swirl of bread, condiments, and daffodil sorting and applying themselves to each other on the massive stainless steel counter before him. I silently approach and watch as he goes through the motions of making the sandwich, much more fluidly than I’d expect of a military colt.

“I took you more for a hay burger stallion, Shining Armor.” I quip, stepping up beside him and igniting my own horn with a gentle smirk.

“Wuh- Princess!” He exclaims, nearly dropping the ingredients in a pile before he reignites his horn and gently places them down. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Early day for court?”

I make a gentle hoof motion to indicate he can be at ease, and he nods in return, going back to his sandwich, though his ears stay turned my way while he continues.

“I’ve been on a seaweed stock binge, actually. Hay burgers were starting to add some pounds, Cadence mentioned it last time I was by.” He smiles idly at the thought of his wife, a country and two seasons away. I feel for the predicament, even if I can’t exactly empathize in the same way.

“Hmm, expectation are set to be broken, I suppose. And indeed, an early end, though never early enough I’m afraid.” We share a knowing chuckle before going back to our meals. I grab a mixing bowl in my magic, bringing it down in front of me and reaching out to the coolers for a fresh head of lettuce. I set it on the counter and hover a large chopping blade over it, but Shining Armor holds out a hoof.

“May I?” He asks. I’m a bit taken aback by him offering to chop my lettuce, though he’s never seemed the type to do so with intent to offend, and I dismiss my magic so he can pick it up in his.

To my surprise, he doesn’t pick up the knife at all. He weaves a series of thin barriers into the air in a criss-crossing weave of magic, then he uses his hoof to slam the lattice down onto the head of lettuce, and it falls apart into even leafy portions when he dismisses the spell.

“Something I picked up from former Captain Hollowtide.” He notes with a bit of pride. I let the surprise show on my face, nodding my appreciation for the ingenuity.

“Though Captain Hollowtide was a pegasus. How did such a meeting prompt lettuce chopping techniques, if I might ask?”

“He made a bet that his wingblades were still sharper than my barriers, we tested them on old pumpkins his wife was about to turn into compost. I won the bet.” He shoots me another proud grin, but replaces it with his typical demeanor quickly.

“Again if I might be so bold, pray tell what the bet was?” I ask, pausing my salad preparations to give him my full attention.

“Do you remember my appointment to Captain? At least the fun part, I mean.”

I do. Twilight and her friends livened it up much like their first Gala. The impromptu thunderstorm ruined my best no-wash formal gown, thank the heavens. I’d been yearning for an excuse to be rid of it.

“I do. Candidly it’s the second most eventful coronation for the position we’ve had. First if you don’t count diplomatic incidents.” I shoot back a mysterious grin, and he lets out a short, high-pitched whistle and looks away to indicate he would rather remain ignorant.

“Anyway, he said if my barriers could cut better than his rusty old wingblades, he’d let me phone in a favor down the road. If his cut better, I’d pay for his next trip to Las Pegasus.”

I blink at that.

“Were you aware of ex-Captain Hollowtide’s-“

“Gambling streak? Yeah, there were some legendary stories about him floating around the barracks when I was still in training. I wish I could have met him before his wing joints went out, I would‘ve loved to spar him.” I smile at the thought of the former captain of the Royal Guard taking a bet over cutting a pumpkin. It sounds just like him. In his prime, the two would be a relatively even match, though as Shining Armor is now he could likely shell up in his barriers for hours and chip away at any non-unicorn combatant from relative safety, no matter how skilled they were. A good defense is a terrifyingly good offense at times.

“He was a good Captain.” I chuckle. He was actually a sub-par tactician, but he kept morale high and understood how and when to mitigate risk on a battlefield. I suspect that temperament is what lead to the moderate gambling habit he developed even before retirement.

“Mm.” He agrees, though there’s a hint of something a layer deeper.

“You disagree?” I ask, pointedly keeping a neutral tone and adding some croutons to the bowl. And by some I do mean half the bag. Half of the industrial mess-hall-sized bag. Maybe more than half, however much is left in it as I turn it over. Surely it was only half full when I opened it?

He puts on a thoughtful expression, but there’s a line that creases on his forehead as his brows furrow.

“With all due respect to the former Captain, he was well regarded by his peers, but that came at a cost. He was divorced twice, and he looks like he’s been just waiting to die the last half a decade.”

I don’t have an immediate response, and I let the small morsel I was raising to my mouth fall out of my magical grasp and back into the bowl with a sigh. He waits patiently, working on a second sandwich.

“Not all ponies relish life in the same way. When Hollowtide’s wings began to seize from his age, it became clear he would be forced to retire. He loved his work, more so than anything else in life, perhaps his many wives included.” I chew a bit at the inside of my lip. If Shining, or anypony for that matter were to quote me on that, it would likely be an overly-dramatized headline in the papers for weeks. I trust in his discretion, though, and the kitchen remains thankfully empty.

“I don’t want to be Captain Hollowtide.” He says flatly. That gets my attention, and when I look over he’s stopped pretending to focus on his food and instead looks up at me directly.

“I don’t believe you could if you tried, and I mean that in the best way.” I reaffirm, but again he shakes his head.

“I’d like to request a formal transfer, Princess. Head of foreign affairs to the Crystal Empire, or a demotion to S.M.I.L.E.’s Crystal division, if you’d see me fit for it.” He bends his forehooves and lowers his head to the floor in a deep bow, and his horn very nearly scrapes the floor.

“You would relinquish your title as Captain to support Cadence?” I ask, though there’s no surprise in the question. If anything, I’m proud of the stallion standing reverently before me, swallowing his pride and ambition to do what he believes is right. The only trouble presenting itself here is losing a magnificent captain.

“I would, and I want to.” He responds.

“I cannot authorize those requests.” I begin, and his eyes shoot up at mine with a genuine despair before I motion him to remain calm, continuing, “It is not within my authority to do so without first consulting the council of foreign affairs, who would beseech me to deny your request. However, were you to resign and somehow gain citizenship in the Crystal Empire, perhaps by way of… I don’t know, being married to their princess, perhaps? Then it would be a decision of their governing body to which station you were appointed. Were they to then request an agent of their employ to be recommended for relations between our countries? No council nor myself would have the authority to decline.”

He’s still bowing physically, but the more I speak the more dumbstruck he looks. Disappointed, then understanding, then surprised, and now something akin to disbelief. I smile despite myself, feigning a casual disinterest as I layer on a few sliced tomatoes and a diced zucchini for contrast. There’s three hoof-fulls of croutons too many spilling over all the other ingredients as I toss the bowl, and it’s the most appetizing salad I’ve seen in months.

“But if I just left- I couldn’t do that, not to the guard, not to you-“ I silence him with a quick wave of my hoof, and he raises his head, though waits patiently for me to counter.

“And you will not, at least I would hope, until a replacement is named. You will be honorably recognized in your withdrawal and retain a dual citizenship, naturally. The specifics of approaching the brevity of your post you can leave to me, I’ll see to it the media spares you their more ‘creative’ spins on the situation. I will require you to remain for at least the next month, however. And I need your word that you’ll still have good faith in my requests once you’re your own agent.” Hmm. Maybe this one could use some dressing.

Shining nods his head vigorously. “Of course, absolutely! Thank you, Princess!” He bows again, and I wait for him to stand back up before I reach past him with my magic and float over the leftover ingredients from his sandwiches, beginning to prepare one myself.

“And Shining Armor?”

“Yes, Princess?”

I look back and forth between the bowl of Daffodil and the cup of rose petals, contemplating which Twilight would prefer. I recall daffodil sandwiches being far and away her most common meal when she resided in Canterlot, though tastes do change.

“Does Twilight still prefer daffodil, do you happen to know? It’s been a while since we’ve caught up on preferences.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, but I see him cock his head out of the corner of my eye. I turn to look at him, curious, and he has a bemused look on his face, as if something funny or peculiar crossed his mind.

“Bit for your thoughts, Captain?” I press, and the expression softens to a gentle smile as he slides his second sandwich over to me with his hoof.

“Nothing, you just reminded me of a conversation I had with Twily a few minutes ago. That one’s for her, but she’s gonna be out cold when you get there. Spike too, he’s been up all night and day guarding her. Wouldn’t leave for anything.” He waits a few seconds before I nod my silent acknowledgement, contemplating what that conversation might have possibly been, before he bows and turns to go with his own meal.

“Thank you again, Princess.” He calls back at the threshold to the dining hall. Again I nod back to him silently, and he takes the cue to move along and enjoy his evening, leaving me alone in the empty kitchen with my salad, thoughts, and a delicately prepared daffodil sandwich.

One of the many advantages of being Princess is that I don’t need to knock before entering any of the facilities. Frankly I could waltz into any room private or not and likely not be reprimanded, though some lines in the sand need to be respected, mutually. By that line of thought, I lift a hoof and very gently tap it against the light oak door, waiting for a response. When none comes, I reach out with my horn and instead of pressing on the handle, I press in directly on the latching mechanism. It’s much quieter, and allows me to juggle the second telekenisis spell in tandem a bit more easily.

I’m holding a salad, sandwich, bag of croutons, and a bowl of gem shavings in my magic. It’s a very particular arrangement of ‘food,’ though anypony who’s worked in the castle since Twilight became my protégé wouldn’t bat an eye.

I gently eek the door open, peering inside to see Spike and Twilight both cuddled up on the large bed, curtains drawn and the sound of one of them snoring loudly permeating the silence. I slip in like a cat thief, stepping out of my regalia and hovering the golden symbols of my authority onto an empty table beside the door. I wouldn’t want to wake them with my shoes tapping against the tile.

I hover the assortment of food over to a nightstand on the side of her bed closest to the door, nudging a lantern to the side to make room for my rather oversized salad.

‘Celestia, you dolt-‘ I curse myself. I just brought a crouton salad with me into a room with a sleeping pony. A crunchy crouton salad, which could likely wake a hibernating drake if eaten within shouting range. My stomach grumbles defiantly, but I shoo the feeling away with my ever-renowned willpower, instead approaching the two and simply observing them for a little while.

I haven’t seen them sleep together in a long time, and it’s oddly nostalgic. At least half a decade, maybe longer. Has it really been so long since she left for Ponyville? Or rather, since I sent her to Ponyville.

Spike’s getting bigger, much bigger. He’s at least a full head taller than I last saw him, though not much to be said for his stature. He’s one of the youngest to be admitted by sister into her honor guard, though even by pony standards he’s only barely an adult. By dragon standards he likely wouldn’t be considered to have reached maturity for a number of years, though we don’t have procedures in place for such things, so he gets to slip under the radar per-se.

I hover a cushion from a stool across the room over to the head of the bed, and I decide to simply wait for them to wake up, watching their chests raise and fall with each breath, their smiles as they find comfort with each other. It brings me some vicarious catharsis from the week’s trials, seeing them so peacefully resting, but also alienated. I lower myself onto the cushion and settle in for the long wait, resting my front half on the bed beside them.

As if by mother’s divine grace, Twilight readjusts in her sleep and her hoof falls from Spike’s back straight onto my face, slapping the bridge of my nose painfully. I strain to contain from shouting out a retaliatory curse, squeezing both hooves against the throbbing point of impact. I glare at her for a few more seconds to confirm that she is, in fact, still asleep before scooting a bit closer to the head of the bed, leaning my front half back over the threshold.

’I wonder what she’s dreaming about, so violent,’ I chuckle internally, considering if I should check myself. It’s not entirely outside of my power. I don’t have the grace of sister to manipulate the dreamscape, but peering into somepony’s consciousness is within the realm of possibility. The notion passes, though, it’s not my place to invade her privacy. Perhaps I’ll ask when she wakes up.

I pause for a moment, turning my head on its’ side, staring at the lone hoof resting out on the open. Hesitantly, I reach out towards it, considering if this, too, was overstepping my bounds. I glance up at the pair, and Twilight shivers gently as she encounters something in her dream, tensing up the slightest bit. The hesitation evaporates, and before I can consider it my hoof is laced over hers.

“You’re safe, Twilight." I mutter to nopony at all. I know it’s happenstance, but she visibly relaxes, the tension leaving her body as she returns to the peaceful sleeping student I saw coming in.

Concern quelled and hoof entwined with my dear student, I lay my head flush with the mattress and resolve to rest my eyes, just for a little while.

Author's Note

We now return you to your regularly scheduled drama mystery action plotline

17 - Between Truth and Honesty

BETWEEN TRUTH AND HONESTY

I’ve been woken up by a lot of strange things in my life. Alarms, spells, alarm spells, mail delivery pegasi crashing through my roof, baby dragons with tummy aches, and reality-bending non-euclidian nightmarescapes, to name a few. The Super Snore-y Princess Pony 9000 shaking the room with untold destructive capability is a new one.

Spike jumps as he’s startled awake, then falls out of the air and hard onto my chest, and I double forward as it knocks the wind out of me. As I do I drag my hoof across hers and her forehoof slaps across her own face, but as her hoof gets stuck so does mine, and I tumble onto my side, baby dragon in tow. Spike narrowly manages to not knock heads with the Princess, but instead lands beside her roaring head and bounces off the springboard the mattress now serves as, propelling him into her as they both tumble over the edge.

“Hmpfhwah-!?” Is the best she can manage before they land in a tangled heap on the floor.

“Princess!” I’m instantly awake and alert, and I swing over the side, lighting my horn to extrapolate Spike from the disheveled monarch in a frenzied mess of telekinesis. “I’m so sorry, are you hurt? Did something happen? I promise it was an accident! Spike, are you- I mean is- what are-“

“Twilight!” The Princess calls out from the floor, craning her neck and looking up at me with a half-conscious look of confusion, holding a hoof up to prompt me into silence. I set Spike down on the bed and glance worriedly between the two, and it looks like he’s doing the same as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

"Princess?"

The Princess sits upright and stares at me with wide eyes. "What happened? Are you alright?"

I nod my head and rock back and forth on my hooves awkwardly, trying to think of the most delicate way to brooch the fact that her powerful snoring jumpscared Spike and I back to the waking realm. When I don’t respond for a few seconds, she, too, begins to blink the sleep away, sitting up slowly and looking around the room as if trying to remember how she got here.

“It seems I fell asleep too. Pardon the intrusion if you would, I didn’t want to wake you.” Her eyes meet mine, and she gives a slight smile. Oh horseapples, how do I respond to that?

“It’s no problem, Princess. Really. Sorry for, uh, hitting you with Spike.” I meet the smile with a sheepish grin. I hear spike start to open his mouth to protest, but with a quick spring to my hooves I’m able to interrupt his slanderous truths with a flick of my tail as I pretend to stretch.

She gives a small chuckle and stands up, following suit as my fake stretch becomes a welcome real one. While her eyes are closed I shoot spike a pleading look, rapidly shaking my head with a quick point towards the Princess. He doesn’t look amused, but he gives me a thumbs up anyways. I’m gonna owe him so many snacks when we finally get back home.

All of us as comfortably awake as we can be without coffee, I hop back up on the bed and sit upright to be level with the Princess. When she’s done stretching, I take a short breath in and try to get the ball rolling.

“Um…Princess? Do you mind if I ask something personal?” The passively content look she’s had on thusfar flakes away a little bit in anticipation of what I’m starting, but she nonetheless nods back in affirmation. “How old are you?”

Her smile falls away completely at the unexpected question, to a stark expressionless stare. She tilts her head to one side, considering my question for several seconds. After a moment she shrugs and answers in an almost dismissive manner. "I've long since lost count of the years, I’m afraid. Though suffice it to say a very long time.”

I frown. She’s intentionally misdirecting her answer, and she knows it.

“Princess, you promised-“

“At least five millennia.” She suddenly offers, closing her eyes and scrunching up her mouth as if the words themself were sour.

“Five…” Spike breathes as he looks down at his claws and flexes his digits, eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. Seeing his reaction reminds me to close my own mouth before it hits the floor, as I realize I have the same expression on. I force myself to breathe in again and move past the shock.

“Wow. Sorry! Sorry, it’s just, I mean… Wow.” I stumble over the words, trying and failing to alleviate the awkward tension that’s now lingering in the air.

“I apologize, Twilight. I promised you the truth and I intend to keep that promise. It’s been many lifetimes since I’ve told anypony my age, it’s just become habit over the years to omit such personal details.” She unscrunches her face, but keeps her eyes closed and tilts her head down in an apology.

“No, I get it. Sorry for making it weird, I just wasn’t expecting…” I trail off, trying to quantify five thousand years. That’s well over two hundred times my age. How much could be learned in that time? How much could be experienced in that time?

“Did you want to ask anything else, Twilight?” She prompts me, pulling me out of my train of thought and back to the present.

“Huh? Oh- Um…” I look at the Princess, a twinge of some strange feeling in my gut pulling at me as I struggle to move past her answer. Spike has questions of his own, though, and he addresses the ancient Alicorn- I mean the Princess.

“If you really do have a bunch of books and spells and stuff from the future, why do you hide it all? Princess Luna said ponies had died keeping some of that tech hidden, but wouldn’t it be better to share it so everypony can start to invent new stuff?”

I look over at him, and he’s staring intently at the Princess. He must have hit a nerve, because she quickly turns her gaze to him and shakes her head a little bit.

“There isn't anything wrong with wanting to improve things for others, Spike, but I think you know the implications a surge of new and potentially dangerous technology could have on a developing nation. If I were to give everypony Alicorn magic- not that I’m able, mind you- do you believe Equestria would be better for it?” The Princess asks him calmly while I try to think of something to say. My silence seems to prompt Spike into continuing.

“Well, yeah! Maybe not stuff like those amulets, but whatever you did to fix- I mean to help Twilight could help a lot of ponies!” His enthusiasm rises a bit more, but the Princess shakes her head, and it dies back down a little. His heart’s in the right place, but he’s not thinking it through.

“You can’t have it both ways.” I mutter absentmindedly, looking past him. They both look over at me, staring. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“No, please continue, Twilight.” The Princess urges with a gentle smile reserved for times when she’s guiding me. I look between the two, thinking of how to put it, and nod.

“If somepony were to show me that amulet, for example- its’ major rune is Elu, Necromancy. Not unheard of, but I’d assume it’s a relic, maybe for old Zebra rituals. It’s pretty easy to deform the spell matrix from there since it’s such a circulative casting form, but that’s besides the point.” I suck in a big breath, continuing, “A Divine-class Mitè rune with a Lov sub-rune, though? This is an entire subsect of healing magic just waiting to be explored! If we can reconstruct a pony, why not recalibrate them? If it’s possible to do that, why not make it target specific materials or tissues? I mean, the possibilities are literally endless! Hospitals and rehabilitation facilities would be phased out of existence in a matter of years!”

Spike looks unamused. “Yeah, that is all great. Where’s the ‘but?’”

I feel my face fall into a more somber expression, but I keep my lecture going.

“But… What’s to stop me from creating a second version of myself? Or ten? Somepony who thinks and acts exactly like I do? You remember what happened when-“

“-The pool, yeah, I remember.” He interrupts, sparing and robbing me the need for an explanation.

“Then there’s the moral dilemma-“ I catch myself too late, and in the corner of my eye I see the Princess shrink a bit with a wince. “I mean, there’s a lot of problems that come along with it. Like consent, overpopulation, regulation, the ethics of regulation-“ Dammit. Once again I see her recoil in shame, and I curse my lack of subtlety.

“But who wouldn’t want to have access to this? Anypony would consent to it! And if everypony says it’s okay, then-“

“What she means to say, Spike, is that malicious third parties could misuse the magic without the consent of the filly in question.” The Princess raises her head and looks over apologetically at me. I bite at my lip, still unsure how I feel about the invasion of my… Well, life.

Spike looks confused for a second, but when he follows the Princess’ gaze to me, his mouth falls into a silent ‘oh’ as the pieces click together from Luna’s explanation in the Everfree. There’s a million things she could have done with my data in that time. She could have recreated and enslaved a hundred of me and forced me to research and develop any number of selfish spells, or file her paperwork, or to learn how I think. The chances are low, astronomically low, with how well I think I know the Princess.

But not zero.

“And that’s all just from this one artifact. If I could figure out what any of those old machines did, just one, I’d probably figure out more in a month than the Manehattan Institute of Theory has in a century.” I finish my half-lecture, half-rant, looking down at Spike as he processes the implications of that. I’m thinking about it, too, but there’s so many moving parts even I still haven’t pieced it all together.

The Princess nods, and Spike’s face is stoic while he contemplates everything. I scoot over and sit next to him, placing a comforting hoof on his back.

“I still think it’s wrong.” He pipes up suddenly. I blink. The Princess straightens her back and raises her head, a look of determination forming that gets my fight-or-flight instincts running. I… Half agree with him. Despite the potential for misuse, the potential for good is very real. But on the other side of things, there are ponies like Star Swirl, who will do whatever they want if it means attaining some goal. I can only imagine what I would do if I had that kind of power, that kind of knowledge at my disposal. Spike continues.

“Even if some ponies could be evil and awful and cruel, what’s holding it good for if it means we’re not helping everypony we would help?”

“Spike, your ambitions are noble, and your reasoning is pure. As a young drake with experience against evil, truly evil creatures, I’m sure you could imagine the many threats that could arise. A changeling army with the potential to breed indefinitely, a zealot wreaking destruction for a despicable cause. I have seen cities larger than Manehattan obliterated in an instant. Truly, an instant. Mere seconds, with tens of thousands of ponies evaporated from existence before they could parse what was happening.” The Princess’ tone grows darker and darker, her face a concerning cross of somber recollection and despair. She’s holding strong, though, but Spike’s courage shrivels quickly under the weight of her words. I feel him shaking under my hoof, and his eyes grow wider with each word. By the end, he looks like he’s about to cry as he responds.

“But… A spell that big would have to-“

“No. It was no spell, Spike. It was an apparatus I should have never let seen the light of day, laboratory or not. If such research were to resurface, I fear it would be the end times-“

“That’s enough, Princess!” I yell, interrupting her again and putting some more pressure on my hoof against Spike’s back while he tries to get a hold of himself, reassuring him that none of that is ever going to happen. “That’s enough…”

I look over to her to find her staring back at me, piercing me with her knowing eyes that have seen thousands of years into the past and future. Suddenly, a realization hits me and I begin to falter under them, too. Who am I to assert that I could possibly know better than somepony who’s been through that much? To somepony like that, I’m hardly a foal in comparison. What could I possibly know that she doesn’t?

“Twilight, Spike, I’m sorry. That was too far.”

What possible input could I give that she hasn’t heard before? Surely in all that time she’s learned all the lessons I’ve sent her.

“Twilight? Please, say something.”

I’ve never learned a new spell in my life, have I? It’s all been done before, learned by somepony else who thought they were the first just before their city was obliterated by some not-spell and the cycle started all over-

“Twilight?” The Princess asks, but I can’t hear it. I’m starting to sweat, and my heart rate is through the roof. My body shakes and trembles, and every muscle in my body feels like it might explode from tension and anxiety. What if-

“Twilight!” They both yell, and I’m back. I realize I’m breathing way too fast, and my vision’s swimmy from the fluctuation in blood pressure. It’s harder to bring myself back, I realize, now that the ringing’s gone.

“Sorry, I-“ I look down at Spike, my assistant turned bodyguard. I remember all the lessons we learned together, all the late nights he stayed up late fetching me reference material so I could discover something new and exciting for ponykind. Except I was really rediscovering it all along.

“Was all of it really just a waste?” I ask in a voice quiet enough to be a whisper, as my chest fills with an empty, sinking feeling. Spike’s mouth hangs open a bit, and I’m sure he knows what I mean. He has to, because he looks down at the blanket we’re sitting on and his lip starts quivering. I remember all the nights we spent curled around one another in our library cubby, reading by candlelight until we fell asleep. I’m sure he’s thinking something similar, and even though the memory should make me happy, the prospect that it was all for nothing steals away the warmth, and I’m left with an empty, hollow husk.

“Your pursuit of knowledge was no waste, Twilight. You are an astute student, and an extraordinary academic the likes of which I’ve seldom seen-“

“-But you have seen before, right?” I ask, failing to keep the tone of bitterness out of my voice as I glare at her. I catch myself after a few seconds and force myself to look back down at my hooves. She physically recoils from my words, but honestly? She should.

“Back when Luna first told me about Star Swirl being her student, I thought about how horrible it would be. What if you knew the answer to my studies, but never helped me? Or what if you lied to keep me from learning too much?”

“I would never lie to you, Twi-“

“I realized it would crush me. I didn’t want to think about it, how… How horrible that would be! To know I was just being strung along, working so hard, and for nothing?” I scoff, shaking my head despite myself. I want to cry, but even with the emotions and the tears ready to go, I feel just as empty as the pit in my chest that’s been growing bigger and bigger all week. “And you know what? I was right.” I croak out, squeezing my eyes shut so I don’t have to see either of their reactions.

After a few seconds I gather up the motivation to force my head up. Spike’s eyes are closed, and he’s got his shaky fists clenched like he wants to hit something. It always breaks my heart seeing him sad, or upset, but it hurts even more knowing that he was right. I should have let Luna deal with things. I shouldn’t have helped, none of this would have happened if I’d listened to Spike’s selfish advice.

When I finally look back over at the Princess, though, my blood starts to boil. She’s still sitting there, back straight and head held high with that same neutral expression she always has when she deals with nobles or dignitaries or whatever else. She’s not upset, or sad, or understanding. She’s just sitting there, waiting for us to finish crying so she can talk us down.

“You really don’t care, do you?” I scoff again, and I feel Spike grab onto my hoof, distracting me from my rising tangent. I’m upset. I’m absolutely livid, I want to yell and kick and scream, but not in front of him. He shouldn’t have to see that, he shouldn’t have to hear that. He shouldn’t even have to be here.

You know what? He doesn’t have to be here. And you know what else? Neither do I.

“I do. I-“

Whatever the Princess responds with gets left in limbo as I reach my hooves around Spike and wrap him up in a tight hug, sparking my horn to life and blinking us out of existence.

I needed to get us out of there, to get away. To think. To be safe. To calm down, all of the above.

“Twilight, Spike!” A voice rings out from nearby. There’s a clattering of porcelain and something wooden scrapes against and falls onto the floor, followed by some hooffalls muffled by carpet before the pony it belongs to is right next to our sorry huddle of emotion.

“S-sorry, mom… I just, I couldn’t think of anywhere else. We had a fight with Princess Celestia, and I- we…” I look up at her and she looks back with a genuine concern. A look that reassures me that she’s there for us, that everything will be okay now that she’s there.

“Oh, oh dear. Twilight, honey… Spike, come here-“ She sits down beside the both of us and wraps us up in her forehooves, laying her head on top of mine and pulling Spike against her chest like she used to do when he got scared as a hatchling.

I hear him sniffle, and then he goes limp in both our hooves, letting the emotions run their course and crying into mom’s coat. For a few seconds I’m not sure if I’ll be able to, but eventually the gates crack and I’m right there with him.

“I do. I- Twilight, what are you-“ I reach a hoof up and towards the two as she sparks her horn to life, a flash of light engulfing the both of them in an instant. Suddenly I’m alone, hoof outstretched towards nothing.

“…Doing…”

I stare at the empty spot of bed where my pupil and her assistant just were, the mattress and blankets already rising back up and evening out now that the weight that was holding them down has departed, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The room is dark except for the soft glow of my sun setting through the curtain behind me, and every part of me hurts as I come to terms with what just happened.

“It is seldom that words fail you, sister.”

Luna’s voice brings some sound to the room as the darkness she’s shrouded herself in melts off her form and bleeds away into the ether she drew it from, stepping out of the shadows the closed curtains provide. She circles the foot of the bed, standing a few feet to my side and staring down at me. She's grown the last few years, almost back to my height as her power's returned. This time last year she would still have been shorter than me, even when I sat.

“It's seldom I speak so truthfully.” I chide myself, letting the hoof fall back to the floor, and my gaze with it.

“tch. Perhaps in words. Though even then, lies of omission.”

“Luna, I’m quite capable of handling my own business. I’m not in a mood to be ridiculed.” I shake my head and get to my feet, turning away from her and the empty bed, making for the door. I grasp the handle in my golden aura, but before I can order it open it's scratched out of existence by a jittery burst of azure magic. I feel the corner of my mouth twitch, but I hold it down. Sister is delicate, I'm not allowed to be frustrated with her. "Luna, once more, not. Right. Now."

I keep staring blankly at the door, waiting a moment before I reach out with my magic once more, but again, the aura's eviscerated by tearing and clawing blue magic, and I find it increasingly more difficult to contain my annoyance. I hear sister's bare hooves canter towards me, and with a heavy sigh I turn to confront her. She's got a deadly serious expression on, and she looks like she's about to give me a lecture. 'This'll be grand. Just what I need right now.'

"No ridicule, sister. Aid. Tell me, Sol, do you despair?" She asks. I jerk my head up to attention, narrowing my eyes as I stare down at my little sister. Where is she going with this?

"As I said, I'm quite capable of-"

"I am not your adversary, sister." She interrupts me, and her face falls away into a tenuous fake smile to match my own. It shifts back to the serious complexion from only a moment before and she takes another step towards me. "I only wish to help, should you allow it."

"If you want to help, you can start by letting me go to my chambers to get my thoughts in order." I retort. A bit tactless, but I'm not up to playing this game with her right now. What I really want to do is just teleport away and leave this for another time, but Luna's not the type to take such disrespect kindly, and even if I'm agitated, I need to be civilized- restrained in my actions.

"Nay, I shall start by getting you clean and orderly such that you are presentable for our departure. And while we do so, you shall be honest with me."

I don’t like the tone she’s taking at all. ’Who does she think she is to order me around? If only she knew.’

"Honesty. So many ponies ask for that these days." I respond tiredly, shaking my head and holding back a chuckle. "Frankly, it may be the element furthest from me, terrible though it may be to say. I miss the old days when everycreature was content to simply believe what they were told, so long as their bellies were full and their safety assured. Nopony has ever seemed to understand that the truth often comes at a price."

"Or perhaps they believe ‘tis always worthwhile to pursue the truth than to remain willingly ignorant.”

“There’s a fine distinction between honesty and truth, Luna, you know that. Don’t blur the line for the sake of some argument.” I reply.

“What does it matter? They will all learn either way. If not from us, then from the next extremist whomst has not the discretion of Star Swirl.”

“What’s it matter? It matters everything!” I yell back, taken aback by the negligence and stupidity playing out before me. “Luna, you’re not so vacuous, I refuse to believe it. You’ve seen with your own eyes what ponies will do with knowledge, with power- Mother’s grace, Roan fell in but a day! If I hadn’t subverted the Manehattan project half a decade ago we’d likely be in ruins already! And you still think it pertinent to be honest?!” I huff, all but shouting by the end of my outburst. Luna seems unfazed, however- calm, even. Even more infuriatingly, she smiles.

“I do.” She says. My mouth hangs open the slightest bit, and again I scoff in disbelief.

“If that’s all you-“

“I need you to trust in me, sister. I must know what it is you are thinking, to hear these qualms. You are not alone anymore! So…” Her face is all screwed up, and I can’t tell if she’s happy or upset until she slams a hoof down onto the floor pointedly, yelling, “So cease acting so!”

I bite down hard on my tongue to keep my temper in check, but I can feel the heat inside me rising. She’s delicate. I can’t lose her again. I can’t be honest with her, I can’t be honest with anypony. To know is my burden, nopony else’s.

I taste a hint of blood pooling in my mouth, and decide it’s best I left before I say anything the both of us will regret. I turn my back on her with a huff and reach out for the door with my magic, and infuriatingly it’s once again swatted out of existence by her feral disruption magic.

I can’t stop the flames.

In a moment of unbridled rage my mane finally overcomes my will, streams of white-hot fiery mist roaring and licking at my chest and burning the air. The curtains behind me catch ablaze, and the blankets scrunched up on the bed begin to sizzle as I charge Luna with a painful cry. I close the short distance in fractions of a second, and there’s little in the way of resistance as I barrel into her and she falls backwards, her tiara scattering across the floor and out of my vision. Her coat’s singing now too, being so close to my flames as they billow out around us.

“I can’t trust you!” The words leave my mouth before I can think, and I feel my heart cracking under the weight of what I’m about to admit.

“I can’t trust anypony else to do what needs to be done! Millenia over we’ve ruled two kingdoms and watched them stamped out from within! You were all I had in those times, and then you left! You didn’t ask, you didn’t think to listen, you just left me to salvage your mess!” My vision’s swimming, but the tears evaporate mid-air before they can fall down onto her. She remains still, not flinching or attempting to escape the blistering heat that must be hurting her.

“Is that truly how you see it?” She asks, quietly. I can barely hear her over the pulsing rush of adrenaline in my ears that I haven’t felt in years.

“I forgave Nightmare Moon, I had from the day it manifested, and I bear the guilt for birthing it. I haven’t forgiven you, not for leaving like that; Not for running away from me.” I’m still furious, but the adrenaline is starting to dither as the flurry of seldom-felt emotions rising up to the surface begin to overpower it.

I feel my legs and voice starting to shake, and the flames begin to recede. My hind legs buckle beneath me, and I let myself fall on top of Luna, the tears finally making it to her as I let the thousand years of repressed anxiety, resentment, and despair make their way out of me. She’s cool to the touch, and it soothes my overheated and singed body like a wave of fine mist.

“Please… forgive me… please don't ever leave me again, Luna… I can't take it…" I cry into her mane. I can feel myself trembling, reason and logic slowly returning. I’ve just spilled my heart out, in the most tactless and insulting way possible. Of all the ways I could have admitted my misgivings…

I feel her hoof on the back of my head, and she gently strokes me until the tremors pass, and I hear her give a content sigh. Her voice is soft and understanding, and she breaks the silence, "There is nothing to forgive, dearest sister. I, too, am sorry. Sorry for running away, and sorry for allowing the evil to take root in myself to begin with.”

Her voice darkens slightly as she shifts a bit, and I feel her looking up at the ceiling. "I was never angry or disappointed in you, Sol, I only ever wanted the same respect and admiration I showed you. I wanted your honesty, and your criticisms all the same. Even if it were to mean bruising mine ego, I wish you would not shut me away. Forgiveness takes time, I understand that all too well, but… I do not wish to be alone either, you know.”

I try to swallow against a lump forming in my throat as I nod slowly, relinquishing any possible leverage there might have been to her. I feel drained now, defeated- a feeling unfamiliar to me in the many centuries since the founding of Equestria, and along with it a unique, whole sense of catharsis. No longer was there the weight nor responsibility of keeping my feelings hidden away under lock and key, and I’m free to hug my sister whom I love more than anything as a tenuous equal again.

“You will need to show Twilight this same honesty, Sol. And sooner rather than later. She needs you, just as you need her.”

“Show her how? What could possibly I say?”

Luna chuckles softly, and I look up at her curiously.

“Apologies, we simply find humor in you of all ponies being unsure what to say.” I don’t much see the humor in it, but she continues before I can levy a complaint, “What you say matters little, what you show will be of utmost importance. When she fled you, it was not because of your words, it was because you hid yourself from her, as you have with me. Be honest, not only with words but with your emotion.”

I’m not sure I’m even capable of that. After thousands of years of careful, meticulous behavioral self-training, what could I possibly do to show her my sincerity?

In a perfect show of timing and insight, just as the thoughts cross my mind, she leans up and nuzzles her head against mine affectionately, catching me off guard as what she’s saying finally hits me. I let out an amused breath through my nose, returning the nuzzles before rolling off of her and onto my back as well. I glance at the curtains, and sure enough it seems she’s already extinguished them.

“Luna, could I ask you a favor?”

“Mm?“ She responds as we look over at each other from our backs.

“Might I convince you to raise the moon early tonight? I want to show her myself, before somepony else tells her about it.”

She hesitates for a moment to consider what I mean, but a lightbulb sparks behind her eyes and a wide smile slowly creeps its’ way across her face until she gives me a firm nod.

“Of course, Sol. That is an excellent idea.”

I shift from my back to my side, giving her a quizzical look.

“Why do you keep using my old name, Lulu? Not that I take issue, it’s just strange to hear it after so long.”

“Mm, why indeed?” She giggles cryptically. I shake my head fondly and look back up at the ceiling, knowing full well getting a straight answer would be akin to chasing waterfalls.

She was right, I suddenly realize; I do feel better. Immensely so, as a matter of fact. I still have fences to mend with Spike and Twilight, but I feel as if my chances of doing so and giving her the proper answers she deserves are much higher now after gaining Luna’s guidance. Twilight’s eccentric in her thinking, but ultimately she’s logical, if not the most rational at times. I can only hope she’ll understand my faults in the same way Luna does.

18 - Lost Knowledge

LOST KNOWLEDGE

An hour, a hot meal, a long bubble bath, and over a dozen mom-tier mega-hugs later, and I’m back to at least 90%. Spike was pretty shook up after everything the Princess said, but he always bounces back quick, and today’s no exception. There’s not much of the usual wind in his sails as we catch up with mom about the last couple months, but to be fair mine are pretty deflated too.

A bit under an hour later the sun’s begun to set, and dad gets home. We give him the short version, since he’s dead on his hooves after another extended shift to make up for leaving early the day I got to Canterlot. He mostly sits quietly and nods in agreement, but he looks worriedly back and forth between us all when I mention the fight with the Princess. He hugs us both all the same, though, and we have to all but force him to go to bed before he collapses in the living room.

It’s about an hour too early for the sun to be setting, but I deduce that the Princess must be doing it now to free up some time for thinking about how to deal with us. Or maybe she’s not, and I’m putting too much value on our relationship from her perspective. Maybe she’ll decide we’re not worth the effort, and forget all about us until she needs us again.

’You’re being ridiculous, Twilight. She obviously cares, she just doesn’t want to tell us everything. There must be hundreds of stories of horrible or awful events she’s lived through. We barely heard one and look at us...’

“I think I’m gonna get some sleep.” Spike says as he hops down from his spot on the couch beside me, giving mom a quick hug and heading upstairs.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night too, actually.” I follow up, hopping off the couch myself and giving mom one last hug for the night from her armchair.

“You’re sure you’re okay, dear? Your head’s not hurting anymore?” She brushes my bangs away from my forehead as if she could tell by looking at it. I wince internally a bit as I remember the fib I told her.

“Nah. I mean, yes, I’m fine, and no, no headaches. A botched spell was causing it before, actually. Princess Luna took care if it, it’s why the guards brought me to Canterlot in the first place.”

“A botched…? Twilight, honey, you’ve got to tell me these things!” She scolds me with a disapproving look, and I shrink a bit under the deserved reprimanding.

“I’m sorry, I just… Promised her I’d keep it secret. For now, I mean. I still don’t think I’m supposed to talk about it, but honestly it’s been difficult to talk to her at all, the other day with you is the first and last I’ve seen of her since-” I cut myself off before I say something I shouldn’t, but thankfully she doesn’t catch the last part.

“What do you mean, didn’t you talk to her before she…?” She gestures widely at my head, still unsure the scale at which we’re talking.

“No, I was already asleep by then. Well, technically I passed out. Oh!” I perk up despite myself as I remember the events. “Guess what? I cast Alicorn magic! Well, I powered Alicorn magic at least. Well, technically it was a ritual spell already mid-cast and I hot-swapped in after learning how to change my magic, but it counts!” I beam at her, and she’s smiling back and blinking rapidly at the barrage of self-corrections and addendums.

“Change your magic? That- I don’t understand a lot of that, but congratulations, honey!” She pulls me into another last-last hug, and I giggle happily despite the circumstances of it all, still proud of myself for it. “I think.”

“Thanks. I still can’t really believe it, but maybe it’s not as hard as I thought it was. I need to try it again some time.” I think out loud, absentmindedly rubbing a hoof against my chin.

“Not now you don’t, little filly. Come on, up to bed!” She gets up from her chair and tugs at my ear with her magic, less-than-gently tugging me along towards the staircase until I follow.

“Okay, okay! No Alicorn magic theory in the house, I get it!”

The magical tugging fades as I concede, and I turn my ears this way and that to get some feeling back. I give her a last-last-last hug and head up the stairs, careful to skip the fifth and ninth ones. They creak and I don’t want to wake dad up. He’s always been a heavy sleeper, but it’s still only considerate.

I open the door and Spike is curled up at the foot of my old bed, with his old pillow and blanket wrapped up around him. He lifts his head when I walk in, and points at the small bed on the floor he used to sleep in.

“Too big for it.” He mumbles.

“That’s okay, I’m sure we can make room.” I smile at him, closing the door behind me and trotting over to the bed.

Despite the joke, I’m actually not completely sure. Spike and I cuddled up in this bed plenty of times as kids, but it’s gonna be a tight fit side to side. He thankfully notices me puzzling it out in my head and scoots towards the end without a word, leaving the top two-thirds for me. I climb up and crawl under the covers, letting my hind legs hang over the side so I don’t accidentally kick him.

I nestle deeper into the covers, a newfound appreciation for the quiet. No tempest in my head, no ringing ears, no guards outside my room. Just peace and quiet.

”-Twilight! With haste!”

I’m rooted to the spot. Everything’s happening so fast, the wards are gone and there’s an unbelievable amount of magical interference buzzing around in the air.

I make out a light gray unicorn, adorned in blue robes from an era before Equestria. He’s speaking to me, telling me to jump through the portal. There’s a pressure on one of my hindlegs, and it brings my senses back to me. Looking down I see a dark green hoof prodding me forward.

“Gold…?” I remember my surroundings. The telltale signs of the impromptu holding area sharpen into focus, with unkept swathes of dirt and grass and massive gnarled trees spanning out in all directions. There’s guards, so many guards- all around us, all charging right for me.

I whip my head left, right, left; They’re coming, I need to move. I lift a hoof to charge forward, but I see a flash of movement as Star Swirl raises his hoof to Goldfish, muttering something as his horn flashes.

“No!” I scream, and before I can think, I’m weaving the familiar magic together to stop him. His hoof inches closer in slow motion, his horn glowing brighter. I can’t let him touch her, I need to stop him now.

The hoof gets closer, but just before the contact I fire off the spell, and suddenly everything stops altogether.

The charging hordes of guards, the touch of death Star Swirl’s inches away from executing, even my own heart’s climbed out of my head and I don’t hear its’ frenzied beats anymore. It’s all in perfect stillness, and I’m free to observe everything.

I trudge forward towards the two, reaching out to push Star Swirl away, but as I do I see my own muted hoof, a dull grayish-purple, and it seems to lose the little color it still has rapidly.

“This again…” I feel the familiar rising urge to panic, to scream. I almost give in, but there’s a sickening crick! in my mind as I remember the kitchen, my fractured hoof, the blood…

‘I’m not a crazy pony.’ I remind myself, closing my eyes. Surprisingly, I listen, and with a huge breath in I recenter myself, emptying my head so I can observe. I let the breath loose and open my eyes again.

The scene is darker than a moment ago, and there’s a hint of heat dancing across my coat. It’s not unpleasantly warm yet, but after moving I can definitely feel it. Everypony and everything else haven’t moved, but I’m a pace closer to Star Swirl. I take another step closer, and there’s a massive resistance from the air itself. I push harder, trudging through the soupy molasses of the place, and by the time I’ve taken the three steps up to him, my body’s starting to burn up from the outside in as if I were stepping into a furnace.

‘Heat increases in relation to physical exertion?’

I lift both forehooves against his torso and push as hard as I can. At first he doesn’t budge, but after a few seconds he starts moving. The difference is incredibly slight, but it’s there. The heat is burning now, but I need to get him away from Goldfish before he kills her. I try to weave a spell, but my wellspring won’t react. My entire mana network is as if it’s in a stasis, completely unresponsive.

‘Stagnant magic network, unable to weave spells.’

I’m running out of time to observe, even outside the scene’s light is draining with the color. I try reflexively to summon a dancing light spell, but quickly am reminded that’s impossible here. How can I regain light?

I try stepping backwards, the heat increases, and the light fades. I try standing still, the light fades. I yell and close my eyes then open them again, the light fades.

“What am I supposed to do?!” I yell, but this time in frustration as the now-painful burning sensation dancing across my skin starts to affect my focus.

‘Think. How did you get out last time? There was the burning, you fractured your hoof, freaked out and then…’ I narrow my eyes, waiting for the last piece to fall into place with a satisfactory mental click! But when it doesn’t come, I’m left more frustrated than before.

Before the last vestiges of light leave me and jut the world in darkness, I take a forehoof and begin to wave it wildly through the air, observing anything that happens to the dim, muted limb.

Surprisingly, or rather unsurprisingly, the leg starts to burn much more intensely, and quickly I stop waving it and grit my teeth against the pain, forcing my eyes open to observe. There’s no apparent change that I can see, but it sure hurts like a barrelbucker. The part that’s most fascinating is that only the limb is burning so intensely, the rest of my body seems to be relatively unaffected, content with an intense and uncomfortable tender sensitivity.

There’s nothing else for it; The last of the light fades, and I’m left in the darkness. True darkness, one that can’t be alleviated by energy or magic. The only reason I know I still even exist is the tragic simultaneous existence of both my consciousness and the intense discomfort in my forehoof. Against my better judgement I reach out in front of me with the less-burning limb to feel for Star Swirl, and sure enough I find purchase, even if I can’t see him.

This is infuriating. This makes no sense! I was able to get out of it once before, so why can’t I-

“Twilight Sparkle! Speak, so that we might aid you!” A booming, regal voice rings out in all directions, startling me. I jump, but the sound of anything except myself is a massive boon towards discovery, so I call back in return.

“Here! I’m here!” I turn my head in all directions as I yell, since the voice seemed to emanate from everywhere. Which… Doesn’t make any logical sense, now that I think about it rationally. That was almost definitely Princess Luna’s voice, and I’m currently in an explicable scenario where, for the second time, I’m being blinded and burned from the outside by an unseen flame. “Princess, please tell me I’m dreaming! If I’m not I think you might have been wrong about me not being a crazy pony!”

In the blink of an eye the light and color rushes back into the scene, but it’s artificial-looking. It’s as if a perfectly set stage full of colors and props were flooded by unfiltered white stage lights, ruining the immersion and making everything as believable as cardboard cut-outs.

I jump back a pace as Luna, horn glowing a gentle azure to illuminate the dreamscape, appears directly in front of me, having apparated soundlessly from seemingly nowhere. She looks on towards me with worry, and she closes the half step in rhythm with me, leaning in closer.

“I sensed your distress so early in the night, and had hoped to offer you assistance. Are you alright, Twilight Sparkle?”

The Princess looks around at the scene my mind’s sat us in, and suddenly I feel deeply uncomfortable at having Luna in my mind now of all times. She stares right at Star Swirl for a few long seconds, then takes in the nightmarish swarm-like behavior my nightmare painted her guards in.

“I’m sorry, I don’t-“

“Apologies are unnecessary here, Twilight Sparkle. Few ponies are capable of controlling their dreams, I shall never judge nor repeat anything seen in this realm. Such is my duty.” She swears, and she’s incredibly serious about it. It doesn’t stop the twinge of guilt, but it does make me feel better that she’s understanding about it. “Though let us be away with this sight, it irks us so.”

With a wave if her horn the scene’s gone, and it’s just us standing in a starry nightscape, the light of the constellations and galaxies impossibly far away tinting the endless sky a serene cyan and indigo. With it goes the burning sensation, and the ever-present lingering stress of the unknown.

“Thanks, Luna… Sorry to bother you with this, I don’t know why but even after our talk I can’t help but dream about it.”

“Again, Twilight, such apologies are misplaced, though I accept your gratitude. You feel guilt, do you not? Though you revived her, you feel as if you are to blame for her death to begin with?” She asks. She sits down on the nothing we’re standing on, and prompts me to do the same. I follow suit.

“I… Honestly, I haven’t even had time to think about it, not really. My dreams have always been like this, when I’m scared or disappointed. I think of what I could have done better, how I could have stopped myself from screwing up. I could have shoved him, I could have teleported her with us, there was time. I could have projected a barrier, I don’t know.”

“You hold yourself to the standard of halting time and the heavens themselves, it seems. A rather impossible expectation, do you not agree?” She suggests, reaching over and laying a hoof on my shoulder.

“When you say it like that… I know it sounds silly, but…” I think carefully about how to word it, not wanting to be dismissed this time. “I… I think it was real, when everything stopped for me. I don’t think it was a panic attack. I think it was a spell, and I cast it. It’s the only way things make sense. Pinkie swears I lit my horn and teleported, but I didn’t. I just let whatever came to me loose in the moment, and I think… I think it was that. I realized in the moment I could fix everything with that spell, and I fired it off without even realizing I was doing it. I still don’t know what it was, I can’t remember, and that’s the part that hurts the most.”

She sits in quiet contemplation while I talk through things, putting it all into perspective with my words. Just talking about it helps me solidify my hypothesis, building a more robust set of events to outline what must have truly happened. If there is a truth to this besides a one-off case of hysteria, whatever spell I fired off subconsciously is almost assuredly the cause.

“If you believe it to be the cause, I would be humbled should you allow me to relive it with you once more. I would give insight, if it would bring you peace.”

I’m taken from my trance of contemplation by the offer. “You can do that?” I ask incredulously, and she simply nods in return.

“We can, though it will mean you must face your feelings once more, to relive the trauma as you already have. If it is something you believe you can handle, I will observe and intervene when I feel it necessary.”

“Let’s do it.” I consent immediately, the thought of reliving the awful experience meaning almost nothing in the face of knowing what really happened. The gusto catches her a bit off guard, but she nods again and lights her horn. Slowly, steadily, I feel the thoughts in my mind coming to me unbidden, lighting up the false world with images and emotions, and I feel each of them as they zoom past.

The fight with Princess Celestia, the feeling of harmonizing myself to her magic, my musings on the application of Smart Cookie’s Law of Three Roads in mainstream city planning. There’s several private and embarassing moments, but Luna doesn’t linger on them, not does she joke or chide, which I appreciate to the moon and back. Pun notwithstanding.

I get the feeling of panic and confusion out of nowhere, and Luna snaps everything to a halt as the scene melts away to wherever we’ve landed on, but it’s incredibly dark and I can’t tell if we landed too late in the memory, or if it’s a spell malfunction. A second later I realize my eyes were closed, but before I can open them I’m already up and out of the bed, watching Rainbow Dash wrestling with a bat-pony Lunar Guard on my bedroom floor as a wave of relief washes over me just like back then.

“A little further ahead, the morning after this. Just after I wake-“ The memory skips forward to its’ conclusion with blazing speed, and less than a second later I’m stuck in a freeze-frame with Pinkie riding a jackhammer along my ceiling. “Yeah. Yeah, this is it.” I call out. I notice my mouth doesn’t move, and in noticing that I also notice I’m hyper-aware of myself and my surroundings in a very literal sense. I can’t see myself, but I know what I look like, how I’m moving, how I’m feeling, like I’m simultaneously both myself and an observer.

The scene plays out exactly how I remember it. Pinkie claiming the Guard told her everything, the empty mug, the coffee spilling through the air, the rising panic at what could happen if- No, I can’t let that happen. If Pinkie had coffee, it could destabilize reality itself!

‘I need to think fast, I need to stop this, I need time to think! There’s no time, I need it to stop. I need time- I need it to stop- I need time to stop, I’ll stop time-‘

Dear Princess Celestia,

Cyr's Seeing, modified. Momentum, modified. Jer’rahd’s Lesser Reinforcement. Star Swirl’s Chronomancy, modified. Unnamed Spell.

Verita/Osu - Fi(Extended) - Ri - Verita/Lunaris(Major)/Mité(Major) - Unknown

And suddenly I’m back where it happened. I feel that initial sense of confusion, a tinge of wonder, but they’re both quickly overpowered by a primal fear as I realize I can hardly move, and the light’s quickly fading.

‘It’s just a memory, stop… Stop panicking. Stop it, Twilight! CALM DOWN!’ I watch myself begin to panic, and I start flailing around, unable to see myself or the world around me anymore. Pure hysteria’s setting in, I’m losing track of where the dream world ends and where my real emotions start. I want it to stop, I don’t know what’s ha-

“Return to us, Twilight Sparkle!” Luna’s voice commands, and in an instant everything’s fine again. I blink and raise my head, and I see Pinkie on the ceiling with the jackhammer, frozen in place. Luna’s standing tall beside me now, the faintest look of curiosity crossed with concern playing at her face, though the usual stoic demeanor overpowers it ten times over. “I have returned us to a point of relative ease. Is this how you recall the events?”

I nod, running through it in my head again. It all looked right, but…

“I… Felt thoughts I don’t remember thinking. I felt myself weaving a massive spell, I don’t even know what half of the spells were. I mean, I’ve heard of most of them, but…” I narrow my eyes, looking down at the ground with a frown. “Do you… Feel everything I do? Did you see- I mean think- or when I thought it did you-“

“We share your experiences in exactly the same way, indeed. We recognize the spellcraft piecemeal, though much of it is beyond our time… It does, however, utilize my custom runecraft as a catalyst. I am most curious where you might have learned it.” She raises a brow and tilts her head, and I can’t help but feel I’m being subtly interrogated all of a sudden.

“I… don’t know. Like I said, I don’t even remember casting the spell, I don’t remember thinking any of that! I guess I really was just panicking, huh…?” I look down at the ground again, pawing at the floor and biting at the inside of my lip. I can’t see her expression through my bangs, but I can tell she’s disappointed. She went through all this trouble, and I don’t even know what spell I cast. “Thanks for trying, I don’t want you to have to waste any more of your time.”

She moves over towards me and slowly raises her hoof towards my face, forcing me to face her as she rebukes.

“To aid a pony in need is no waste, Twilight Sparkle. You of all ponies must have learned that. Or would you categorize our first encounter a waste of time?”

“What? No! Freeing you from Nightmare Moon was an excellent use of time! I- I mean, I was- We were all happy to help-“

“Then we understand each other.” She keeps staring at me with her deadpan stare, but I can see the faintest hint of a smirk on her face after a second or two. Was she teasing me?

“That’s… A little mean, Princess.” I pout, and the faint smirk fades back into the darkness of her coat as she takes the hoof away, giving me some personal space.

“I apologize for the poor timing, though not for the sentiment. I am happy to assist anypony when I am able, you are no exception nor outlier.” With a swift flick of her horn, we’re back in the expanse of empty night sky, and she seems to relax a bit.

I decide to let her off the hook and move on, following her gaze at the massive space.

“Is this the dream realm? The theoretical metaphysical manifestation of pony subconsciousness?” I ask, suddenly very curious if such a place could be proven and observed from the waking realm. When I don’t get a response, I look back to her, and I can tell she’s grappling with something in her head.

“Not allowed to say?” I ask with more than a hint of bitterness, and immediately I shove a hoof in my mouth.

‘Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why would you say that out loud?!’ Before I can levy another apology, she does something unexpected, something I haven’t seen since the last Nightmare Night; She laughs.

It’s a rich and genuine laugh, but more… Regal than usual. Not to say Luna isn’t every bit as regal as a princess should be, but it reminds me of Nightmare Moon’s voice, as if it were coming out of Luna’s body. She notices my curiosity, and immediately cuts it short, clearing her throat and frowning a bit, straightening her neck and head.

“You truly are every bit the astute and inquisitive unicorn sister claims you to be. You are correct, in that I am uncertain if it would be wise to respond to your query. You seem perturbed, however; What is your qualm?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just… Your laugh, it sounded…” I trail off, considering if my question is too rude to ask, or maybe too personal? She takes it the wrong way, though, and her wings flare out as she raises her head.

“If it is our laugh that bothers you so, we shan’t-“

“AreyoureallyNightmareMoon?”

Silence. I crouch down as low as I can get and cover my head with my hooves. I’m not scared that I may have just offended her, I’m absolutely certain of it. I was trying to figure out a better way to put it, but there wasn’t time, and oh sweet Celestia she’s gonna kill me if I don’t clarify that.

“What I meant is your laugh sounded really rich and pretty and it wasn’t your normal tone and then I remembered hearing the other-you talk in the Everfree Forest and it sounded like that so I thought maybe it was possible that you were actually Nightmare Moon but just looked like luna to-“ Hoof back in mouth. Difference, it’s hers this time.

“When we remove our hoof from thine lips, will you be calm?” She asks plainly. I take a couple seconds longer than I really should to think about it, but eventually I nod in agreement. The hoof falls away, and true to my word I stay calm, at least on the outside.

“We are Nightmare Moon, and I am Luna. We are one in the same, insomuch that for one of us to perpetuate, so must the other. Yes, I am in control, and no, we are not evil.” She pauses a moment to let me contemplate that, maintaining a level gaze and reserved demeanor.

"I... Can't say I understand. Not completely at least, but I trust you, Princess. I'm sure you're doing your best. But..." My words trail off as I look down at my hooves again.

"But?" Princess Luna prompts.

"It's like... you know how some ponies can't tell one another apart when they're covering their cutie mark? It's like that only with your voice. It's almost uncanny, honestly. It… Kinda sounds like you're behind somepony else, if that makes any sense.” I look back up at her, and there's a glisten of something behind her eyes I can't quite identify. I pause a beat and add: "Sorry, that's presumptuous to say, isn't it?"

Luna shakes her head slowly, looking away and out at her vast realm. I wish I could peer into her head and tell what she's thinking, but that's magic I haven't had the time to learn yet, and I curse the lack of hours in a day for it.

"Not presumptuous, no. Genuine." She smiles out at infinity, and I get a humbling feeling like I’m being allowed a glimpse into her psyche. How she really thinks, behind the crown and the weight of her authority. “‘Tis a rare thing in this time, I have noticed, to meet a pony with untainted intent one could observe so plainly on their breast.”

She turns back to me after her thought, and the fact she’s talking about me finally registers. I feel a bit of heat in my cheeks, and I force my ears back against my head to save a bit of face before they signal my distress like the traitorous appendages they are.

“Oh, well, you know… I try!” I give her a half-smile, hoping she doesn't notice. She nods in acknowledgment, and thankfully the moment passes as she turns her entire self away with a quiet huff.

“It is nearly time, I am afraid. Sister is preparing to come to you; with a practiced apology, I can only hope.”

“Wait, like, right now? As in, to my parents’ house where I’m currently asleep right now?” I furrow my eyebrows a bit and hold back a frown, not wanting to be rude but also more than a little annoyed that I’m not even being allowed one single night to be mad alone. Or alone together with Spike, at least. Still!

“She cares for you greatly, Twilight, as I’m sure you know. She has changed in the many years of her rule, she is not as whole as she once was. Parts are missing, among those is her sense of expression, buried meticulously amongst both the expectations of everypony around her, and those she has set for herself.”

Her eyes soften as she lays it all out, and I feel like I’d be the biggest jerk in Equestria if I didn’t at least let Princess Celestia explain herself after hearing that. Thinking back on it, I didn’t even give her a chance to respond before I took Spike and left, leaving her alone in the castle.

Scratch that, I already feel like a pretty big jerk now that I realize how unfair I’m being in all of this.

‘I don’t want to feel like a jerk, I want to feel vindicated, dammit!’ I lift a forehoof and go to slam it back down, but the look Princess Luna’s giving me gives me a little pause, and I let out a huge, aggravated huff of air before letting it go. The silence stretches between us again for a few long moments, until she picks up the slack again.

“I was hoping to say as much in person, though now is as apt a time as any. You are forgiven for your rash decisions, Twilight Sparkle. After much deliberation we have come to understand that such actions are indicative of your good nature, it would be wrong of us to condemn you for what you did.” She turns around and looks right into my eyes, before closing her own and dropping her front half into a deep bow. “We apologize, verily, for our behavior.”

…Wow. Princess Luna of all ponies, bowing to me, and apologizing for being a jerk. Of all the improbabilities I could imagine, this week has managed to keep stacking them up.

“…Twilight Sparkle?”

“Huh?”

“…It is good form, after one pony apologizes to another, to acknowledge such things.” She deadpans, opening her eyes and looking up at me, still bowing from her apology.

“Oh. Oh! Right, sorry, apology accepted, sorry. I was just- sorry.”

She lets a small smile show for a second or two before she rights herself, nodding back at me.

“Perhaps I was mistaken, it seems apologies are rampant here, after all. No matter, it is time you awoke so that you might be prepared to receive sister’s apology. I would suggest you bring your spell quandary to her, as you are readily aware spellcraft is a specialty of hers. She will likely be able to make some sense of it, at least.” Her horn begins to glow, and I can’t help but wonder if she even needs to do that in the dream world, or if it’s just a courtesy for me.

“Before we part, a final query.” The spell she’s weaving pausing, dancing on the edge of her horn and she gives me a curious look.

“Didst you truly believe our laugh… ‘pretty?’”

There’s a pause between us, and I blink a few times as I replay the question again in my head to make sure I understood it correctly. As she waits the curious look gets a bit apprehensive, and that insight I realized I was getting into her psyche might have been miles deeper that I realized.

“Yeah, I do. If that’s how you really sound when you’re happy… Well…” I start to trail off again, but somehow I find my way back when I see how intently she’s hanging on my words, like a filly being reassured that everything’s fine. “I hope everypony will get to hear it sometime.”

I give her a genuine, knowing smile, and she returns it without an ounce of hesitation or trepidation I would have expected after an exchange like that, though her wings do flare out slightly before she reins them back in.

“Thank you, Twilight Sparkle. Your words are of great comfort. We shall come speak to you in person soon. For now though, I must be away. Fare thee well, and best wishes in your coming discourse.”

Before I have a chance to respond my eyes dart open, looking up at the dark ceiling of my room. I feel the bed vibrating slightly as Spike snores away, and Luna must have raised a full moon tonight, because there’s plenty of starlight streaming in through my window.

‘Remember that spell matrix, Twilight. Matrix, matrix, matrix. I should write that down.’ I nod to myself, quickly but quietly slipping out of the bed and giving my old room a once-over. Most everything’s exactly the way I left it, which means in the middle-left drawer there should be… Aha!

The desk and its’ contents are just what I was looking for, and I float a blank sheet of parchment onto the surface, using an old quill and a freshly-unsealed inkwell to quickly inscribe the entire rune sequence, sans the final one I still can’t really make sense of. It felt more like raw data than a rune, but for now I just put a big ‘?’ at the end, then roll it up and stick it halfway into my bit pouch as I head downstairs.

I’m feeling surprisingly well-rested after what can’t have been more than an hour of sleep. The lights are out and mom’s probably long since gone to bed, so it’s just me in the living room, waiting for the Princess of Equestria to knock on my door. Just another day in the life.

I don’t have to wait long, because I hear the clattering of metal on stone from a couple houses away, and I’m able to unlock the door and step outside before before anypony can wake up the house by knocking. It’s still relatively warm despite the hour, and there’s a thin layer of cloud cover diffusing a blazingly bright moon across Canterlot.

I pull the door closed behind me with my magic, and turn to face the source of the heavy hooffalls as they stop a few feet away. Standing there, starlight radiating off of a pristine white coat in the middle of the sidewalk is Princess Celestia, fully adorned in her regalia, but strangely unaccompanied by any of her guards. She also has a set of saddlebags on with some large rolls of heavy-looking papers with the official Royal Canterlot seal poking out, and a few blueprint carrier tubes strapped to her back. The sight’s very curious, and I let it show plainly on my face.

“Good late evening, Twilight. I was hoping you might have the time to talk, if you’re not too busy.”

She’s standing tall and proud for the few passers-by to admire, but her voice is incredibly gentle, as if she were coaxing a baby bird from its’ egg, scared to frighten it in its’ first moments in the light. Despite the unnatural circumstances and my time to prepare, I’m still the tiniest bit starstruck by her beauty. She’s in her element, and it shows to perfection.

I take a small breath and answer neutrally.

“Of course, Princess. My family is asleep, though. Do you think maybe we could take this back to the castle?"

Her smile widens just a touch more, and she flourishes her wings instead in a dramatic flare, turning her side to me and nodding me over. Confused, I step forward.

“If you’ll accompany me, my faithful student, I believe you’ll be very interested in what I have to show you.” She crouches down and furls the wing on my side, inviting me to climb up onto her back.

“Princess?!”

She nods to me reassuringly, but I see a trio of fillies across the road gawking at the display. If I actually went along with this, it’d be in the tabloids for weeks, I just know it.

“Princess, I don’t think-“

Before I can levy my argument, the world’s suddenly tinted a brilliant gold. It takes a moment before the realization that I’m airborne catches up to me, but by the time it does I’m already on her back and she launches us both away into the night sky.

“A little warning would have been NIIIICE!” I scream.

The capital city below us quickly fades from view as we ascend, and I cling onto the Princess’ neck for dear life as we fly upward until eventually only clouds surround us in all directions. Eventually that, too, gives way to the open night sky as we breach the troposphere. I can feel the air around us begin to chill, and the moon is suddenly blindingly bright as the insulating layer of cloud cover between us is lost, forcing me to keep my gaze earthbound.

Looking down I see the Princess smiling, eyes closed in a rare reverie. With a few more mighty wingbeats she brings us above the clouds and fully extends her wings, bringing us to a much more gentle glide. As she evens us out I take a second to steady myself, and I marvel at the fact that somehow her saddlebags and all their contents are somehow still attached to her. She catches me staring, and offers some insight, raising her voice a bit to be heard above the ambient wind.

“An anchoring charm, one of Commander Hurricane’s making, some twelve hundred years go. At least, that’s what the history books say. In truth it was the combined efforts of collaboration between the Unicorns and the Pegasi during the Magician’s Renaissance.”

“The Magician’s Renaissance? I thought that didn’t come about until after you and Luna had founded the Everfree empire, and that wasn’t until eleven hundred years ago!” I shout back, and she angles us up to burn off some of our momentum, slowing our glide considerably. I hold on just a bit tighter to account for the shift in course.

“Until after the empire had been founded, that is correct, though not my us. Sister and I inherited the Everfree, we were not the ones to build it. Nearly a hundred years passed before it collapsed following sister’s coup, and the tribes were once again split before reuniting under our banner of Equestria.”

“How did things change so dramatically that soon after your coronation?" I interrupt. If the timeline I’m piecing together is correct, then their rule over the Everfree would only have lasted two, three hundred years at best before it collapsed.

"In all honesty, a lack of experience gave way to ineptitude, both personal and professional. Mother tried her best to teach us, but…” Her head hangs low as she trails off, and I find myself feeling sympathy for her.

"You mean…" I ask quietly.

"She passed during the Chaos Wars, when Luna and I were well into our third or fourth millennium. She was a wonderful pony, truly, though she only ruled after Luna and I were born. She decided she would rather take up the responsibility of uniting everypony so that we could know peace, rather than let it sit vacant and raise us in a divided world.” She looks up at me and smiles sadly before continuing.

“We learned what we could from her in the many years leading up to the Chaos Wars, though ponies change so quickly, their opinions so fickle, much of what we’d learned became obsolete in mere centuries. The generations that had survived the war gave us the benefit of the doubt, seeing us for the good we brought and thankful for saving them, but with every generation beyond, that reputation meant less and less in lieu of our many mounting ineptitudes of the time. Tactless negotiations, idealistic doctrines, a loose code of ethics in place of proper law… It was doomed to fail, I’ve come to realize. But I took that failure in stride and within two generations united Equestria, some nine hundred years ago using all that I had learned, so that I might restore Harmony as she had.”

She takes a deep breath and shakes her ethereal wind-whipped mane back out of her eyes, smiling up into the bright sky at the thought of the memory. I wait for her to continue, but after half a minute it becomes clear we’re both just enjoying the silence.

“What was her name?” I ask as the question pops into my head.

“Harmony. Queen Harmony. No relation to your Elements that you’re familiar with, they came later, but I did name them after her. An homage of sorts, though it seems a bit morbid now that I say it out loud." She sound like she’s genuinely sharing a piece of herself with me. I’m not quite sure why, but the petty desire for vindication I’ve been holding onto is quickly evaporating.

“I think it’s a beautiful sentiment, I’m sure she’d be happy you thought of her.” I lean forward and rest my forehead against the back of her neck, horn combing into her mane before the last part registers. “You’ve never told anypony that?”

She shakes her head as much as our precarious position allows.

“Only Luna, though she wasn’t nearly as close. Father, brief though his time with us was, was her inspiration in most things. An artist, and an earth pony, if you could believe it.”

“Wait, you mean your parents weren’t Alicorns?” I ask, perplexed.

“Father wasn’t, no. Only Mother was able to accompany us on our long journey through the ages. When he passed, little Lunaris spent a thousand days and a thousand nights grieving. One night she looked up at the stars, and she was struck with an inspiration that gave her peace. Without ever having been instructed, she lit her horn and began to paint a beautiful night sky into being, the first the earth had ever seen. It was that night she rose her moon for the first time, and the morning thereafter I the sun. That’s when we were showed our destiny, before we were even a hundred years old.” She turns her head to the side to look back at me as we hover, calm and gauging my reaction.

“Princess, I… I don’t know what to say. I’m honored, but… Why are you telling me all of this?”

I feel her tense up as she forces down a deep breath, then slows our glide to a stop, flapping her majestic wings just enough to keep us aloft above the canopy of cloud cover.

“Because… You’re so very special to me, Twilight. Sister remarked to me that it’s, how did she put it… ‘Seldom that words fail me,’ and I’ll admit with more than a small sense of hubris she’s right, but it’s even rarer that I need to express myself, or that I’m even allowed for that matter. So, this is how I decided to show you I care, with action instead of words. A bit unoriginal, perhaps, but I hoped that you would appreciate what it means, knowing how close the heavens are to us.”

She turns her head skyward and lights her horn, and the moon seems to dim considerably even though I can’t see any other notable change in the sky. I didn’t realize the moon’s luminescence was even a controllable factor in their spells, I’d just assumed it was based off the lunar phases.

I blink as I look up at the familiar night sky, the same normal spread that dots the night any day Luna doesn’t grace Equestria with a unique display twinkles back at me. The issue is that something isn’t the same, and that something is a blazingly bright star bearing somewhere between 358-001 degrees, just offset of Polaris and hanging slightly lower on the horizion. It’s nearly triple the size of most of the others, and despite the moon showing much less of its’ earlier luster, it’s so blazingly brilliant that I have to squint and avert my eyes after a few seconds for fear of permanent damage. I look back down at the Princess in confusion and find that she’s been staring at me the whole time, biting at the inside of her lip, gauging my reaction. I feel like I need to say something, but I’m still unsure what this is all about.

“It’s beautiful, but I don’t understand.” I admit. It would make sense to attempt to add an offset for Polaris as a secondary nautical navigation point to help ponies triangulate their bearings, but its’ spot just off-center in the sky makes it incredibly difficult to even see the other nearby astral bodies with how bright it is.

“Its’ name is Vespera.” Her chest inflates with another big breath, and she holds it while I narrow my eyes, searching through the index in my mind for the smaller-than-I’d-prefer section of Old Ponish translations. Barring ‘Night Fight’ and ‘Insect Plague’ (Which I suspect I’m confusing for Vespula,) that would mean that it’s literal translation is Eventide, or evening. In the modern pony dialect, that would mean it translates to…

“You named a STAR after me?!” I stare back at her in disbelief. “Why would… When did you- HOW did you get that past the Astronomer’s Navigation council? There hasn’t been a permanent addition since Clovis Minor seven centuries ago, and how did Luna-“ For the third time in one night, albeit the first in the waking world, there’s a hoof in my mouth. For a second I wonder how she could have reached around behind herself like that, but then I see the faint gold glow surrounding a very familiar purple hoof. Clever.

“As for all the technical questions, suffice it to say I considered this important enough to ask forgiveness rather than permission. The when, last night. The why,” I finally see her chest decompress, and she beams a wide smile back at me, causing a rush of heat to flare up in my face. “I needed you to know. I’d hoped to show you when you woke up, but fate had other plans it seems. You wouldn’t believe the favors I had to pull to have the local weather pegasi arrange the the cloud cover on such short notice.”

She chuckles a bit, but I’m still too dumbstruck to remember it’s polite to laugh along. A star? A real, permanent star in the night sky that the Princess made! For me!

“I… Thank you, Princess! I really… Thank you for sharing this with me." I say quietly, feeling the comforting weight of thousands of celestial bodies weighing down on me. I shiver, and I’m not sure if it’s the gentle breeze coming off her wingtips, or the dopamine and endorphins shooting through me like a euphoria spell. We stare at each other for a little while, and her smile’s wider than I’ve ever seen before. There’s relief, there’s that proud undertone she has whenever I figure something out, and a real, genuine glee I can only imagine she’s had buried somewhere beneath that mask all these years. She leans forward and closes her eyes to nuzzle my face. I follow suit, tilting my head a bit to the side and scooting up on her back so she can reach without stretching too hard.

“So, apology accepted?” She asks, giggling in a way I’ve never heard. It feels almost taboo, hearing my mentor and Princess laughing like a school filly, but it’s contagious and quickly I’m giggling with her like she’s got her primaries against my belly.

“Apology accepted. And… I’m sorry, too. I’ve been beating myself up so much about thinking about things a certain way, that I started to only think about things that way. I should have realized I was being narrow-minded, and took your feelings and circumstances into account before making a rash decision.”

Somewhere in my apology I enter academia mode, and the triple-threat of addressing the Princess in the most familiar tradition we have of a friendship lesson, being showered in her intimate attention, and the streams of new synapses firing as my emotions try to find some equilibrium I start to devolve back into a fit of happy giggles, making it difficult to keep us from knocking heads together.

My grip on her neck and shoulders falters a bit as I recover, but she adjusts beneath me and I feel us fall slowly for a few seconds before the sine wave of the hover disappears. Looking around I see she’s descended onto the thick layer of cumulonimbus, splaying her massive wings out to either side as she sinks into the fluffy mess to stay stable on its’ surface.

“Oh, hehe- here, let me- heh lemme just-“ I struggle to maintain concentration for the couple seconds it’s needed, but I manage as a huge blanket of thin force presses down from above, easily twenty feet in every direction. It passes harmlessly through us, but it squishes the wispy tendrils of chaotic cloudstuff down into itself, creating a well-packed and relatively smooth surface for her to walk on.

I follow it up with a cloud walking spell that fizzles on the first try as I remember that ‘Princess Celestia named a star after me!’ Though I manage to keep my cool the second time around, and I slide off her back and onto the cloud with her, nestling up to her shoulder. I feel almost greedy hogging her attention like this, these exchanges usually last less than ten seconds, twelve and a half if you allow for outliers. When her wing drapes itself over my entire body though, I let myself shelf the idea and indulge in the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be truly alone with my mentor.

“You are very dear to me, Twilight, as is Luna. I'm sorry for keeping these things from you for so long, but Star Swirl has always been a problem I'd foolishly resolved to facing alone, and I knew you revered him greatly." A brief silence follows. "I promised you the truth, Twilight. The truth is that I failed him. In my own grieving for Luna I failed to console him as he wallowed in the loss if his lover and friend. He found whatever faults he could with me, and one day everything came to a head when he orchestrated an exodus with several members of my head staff, eventually leading to the end of my rule of the Everfree. He founded a small sect of devoted followers known as the Chronomancer's Guild after I reclaimed the throne with Equestria. He exploits them for his own means and then disposes of them when it suits him, likely luring them in with false promises and exaggerated retellings of my failures of the past."

I sigh as the moment is interrupted by shop talk, but she's right to bring it up. We've got a plan to make, and I still have questions that she needs to answer. I promised to hold her accountable, and I will, but this time I'll deliberate more carefully before passing any judgement or criticisms.

"Then the first question is where he gets his information- Actually, that's superseded by knowing what his endgoal is. A close third is how to stop point number one, being said goal, though we should think linearly here. Do you have a scroll and quill I can borrow? I think we should write this down.” I look over at the Princess and realize I’ve gotten up and started pacing out of habit, robbing myself of a heartfelt moment in exchange for what promises to be a mentally stimulating one.

She smiles warmly at me and flips a smaller pouch sewn against the side of her main saddlebag, and out floats a set of fine writing quills (with counterweights for hornwriters,) four extra large wells of ink, and two hardleather-bound spellbooks, each emblazoned with masterfully-cut (what I assume to be) tourmaline in the shape of my cutie mark.

“Princess?” I ask, taking the batch in my own magic as she releases them.

“One for notes and erratum, the other for spellcraft. I imagine you’ll fill half their pages before the night is out.” She replies cryptically. I feel my head tilt to the side as I ponder what she means, but before I can go down the rabbit hole the main bags affixed to her sides flip open and at least three dozen books, a number of research papers, and some blueprint bundles are plucked into the air in a wavy conga line of parchment and ink.

Out of the other side she produces a thin collapsable rod, setting it between us on the cloud as I watch, entranced. She mutters some verbal component for a quick transmutation spell, and the rod extends nearly four feet deep, then the metal it’s composed of is stretched ten feet wide, easily large enough to support all the tomes that drop on top of it as the Princess dismisses the levitation. For a second I’m afraid it’ll all plummet through the cloud, but as is to be expected of the Princess, it seems she had the foresight to enchant the strange rod-table-thingy with a cloudwalking spell.

“Princess, I don’t understand. What’s all this for?” I tentatively approach the stacks of books piled on the metal platform, leaning down and glossing over some of the covers.

What looks like a university textbook, ’”It’s Simple Rocket Science!” Vol. I’ jumps out at me. I flip it open to a random page and immediately the number of strange and unrecognizable equations and symbols all but force me to take a step back. I glance up at the princess, not sure if this is some academic prank she’s stringing me along for, or if this is really what I think it is. She lays patiently watching me look around, and nods towards the pile for me to continue. I reach out and hover over a small string-bound thesis paper, though the string is perfectly smooth all across itself, not a single fray in sight.

The Decade in Recap: Nuclear Fusion and its’ Mounting Concerns in Regard to Climate Change.” I flip through a few pages to skim its’ contents, and it seems to be a hybrid report on ecological statistics cross-referencing power-generation facilities’ and their inadequate regulatory procedures. There’s several graphs displaying a correlation between power output and pollution, though that doesn’t always guarantee causation. In any case, I’d need to read a lot more to really understand what it is they’re referring to.

Another book. ‘Pilot’s Handbook of Aeronautical Knowledge.’ This one’s a properly published softcover, though the binding is impeccably smooth. I can’t even feel any ridges from the adhesive in my magic, meaning this was either crafted with great care by a talented presser, or by some new process I haven’t read about or seen the handiwork of. Flipping through it there’s dozens of strange diagrams depicting an elongated flying saucer with wings on either end, what look to be pressure zones for major regions of a map I don’t recognize, and explanations for an uncountably high number of levers, buttons, and “displays.”

I gently set everything back down on the makeshift table. My tail’s flicking back and forth viciously as I try to make sense of it all, and I can feel the creases on my face getting creases with how hard I’m focusing.

“Why?” I finally ask, looking up to her. Surprisingly enough she’s still smiling, and she stands up, making her way around to me. I keep my eyes locked on hers the entire time, still trying to divine some sort of explanation.

“Because this is the last thing he would ever expect me to do. I have a trick left I’ve been waiting for a moment like this to use, but before that it’s time I make good on my position as your teacher.” I feel something inside me ignite as I bear witness to quite possibly the most extraordinary sight in the world; Princess Celestia putting up her ethereal mane in a ponytail and cracking open a massive book in front of the both of us. Two more follow suit on the side, and she points to the one closest to me, beginning her instruction.

“’Smart Cookie’s Fundamental Sigil-Casting, Revised,’ ‘Arcana Irrationality,’ and ‘Quantum Informality: The Fourth Dimension.’ We’ll start with theoretical sigil networking. Open that one to chapter three, I’ll summarize the first two as we go.”

My heart’s absolutely blazing now. It feels like it could burst right out of my chest, and yet I feel oddly calm. This is what I’m good at, and this is without a doubt going to be the most important study session of my life. The fact that the Princess is going to be staying up all night with me is the icing to top it all off. She trusts me enough to let her guard down, to break her own rules and entrust thousands of years of lost knowledge to me. I’m not going to let her down.

I sit down next to her, cracking open my blank note-keeping book and preparing a quill, ready to be instructed. She doesn’t miss a beat, and true to her word we dive right into the lost art of Sigils.

Between the two of us, Star Swirl isn’t gonna stand a chance.

19 - Prison Break

PRISON BREAK

I return to the waking realm, having comforted Twilight’s troubled mind for the first time since my return. The mare has much troubling her, though it is not my place to pry further than is necessary or requested of me. Sister has made it clear she wished to right things herself, and so I shall abide those wishes.

The scant few ponies present- A court recorder, my night court and Canterlot retainer, and two Day Guard at the door- react with minimal interest as I fall out of my trance, though they’re used to my attending other duties when there is little else to do, and quickly return to their idle states.

My ears pick up the hurried hoof falls of a guard or similarly-clad pony galloping towards the throne from the outside, and I pick my head up to address them. The two Day Guard on the other side of the doors open them, and I see one of my officers attempting to collect himself as he trots a bit more slowly forward towards the base of the throne.

“Mindful Gaze, news of what import do you bring to have abandoned your post?”

Mindful Gaze is assigned as head of operations at the old castle. Perhaps it is familiarity, or perhaps sentimentality, but I prefer to conduct my more delicate business therein. I knew he was too young for the promotion when he received it, as did many of my juniors, though there were extraneous circumstances leading up to it. At least this gives me an excuse to send him back to officer training.

And by officer training, I mean a two-week survival exercise at the borders of the griffon nation, where ferals frequently roam. It’ll surely ground him quickly.

“The detainee Goldfish, pegasus-class, is nowhere to be found, N-Nightmother. I assure you we’re searching and will notify you post-haste when-“

I hold up a hoof, and he silences himself while I consider what this means. Goldfish has escaped?

Not long ago I would have considered stripping his rank and making an example of him for his failures before the rest of his subordinates, though the ponies of this age do not respond well to such approaches. The fact of the matter is that a very important prisoner has escaped, and she needs to be recaptured. If she roams free, she’ll surely return to Star Swirl, or at worst attempt to harm Twilight Sparkle.

I turn to my retainer, and she stands at attention, wordlessly awaiting my instruction. This is how one of my rank should present themselves.

“Juniper, arrange a chariot for my departure to the Everfree, with haste. I shall attend this matter personally.”

“Right away, Princess Luna.”

They start to gallop away within seconds, but after a short consideration I call out to them, “Rouse the Thestrals, their speed shall be most beneficial!”

I stand as well and don my hoof regalia, preparing to leave. Night court is oft silent, and so I allow myself to be comfortable without them whenever possible.

“As for you, Mindful Gaze.” I address the stallion as I descend from the throne and to the open floor below.

“Yes, Nightmother?” He responds, tensing up as if I’m about to strike him.

“You are dismissed as overseer until such a time I see fit to forgive such egregious errors on your watch. Your detachment is now without their leader amidst a crisis, you ought to have sent a messenger and aided them yourself.”

He stammers for a moment, then bows deeply before turning and trotting away, tail literally tucked between his legs. A far cry from graceful, though he has the good sense to accept my mercy of not making an example of him, despite my better judgement. Perhaps my ranks do need a reminder of the commitment required to hold authority under my banner.

I make my way swiftly to the departure bay just detached from the castle’s barracks, paying no mind to the stares of the Day Guard while I do so. So late into the night, the scant few still awake are either the seedy and corrupt ones, or neck-deep in hard cider.

When I arrive, as expected Juniper is standing by with my saddlebags while two Thestral fliers finish strapping into their harness. I lift the pack from her with my magic, and quickly detail the route to the fliers. A box chariot would be more comfortable and would protect me from the elements, but the traditional open platform is less than half the weight, and a third the size. Making the choice to sacrifice comfort to arrive nearly twenty minutes faster is no choice at all, which is why all my retainers no longer bother to ask.

Once we’re in the air I stoop down and duck behind the front lip of the chariot for some cover against the buffeting winds. Sister knows a charm to aid in such things, though I never bothered to learn it, as I usually prefer to feel such a vicious wind rather than use magic to shield myself from it.

I dig around in my saddlebag looking for one of my several notepads, specifically one from my lessons with Sister several months ago. If I’m lucky (which, to be fair, I’m often not,) I could make use of one of those scrying spells she’s so fond of when we arrive to divine her location.

Normally I would have asked her to simply search for her personally, alas she’s likely either being rebuked or consoling her student. Both are believable outcomes where those two are concerned, though I have good faith it’s the latter.

We arrive in just shy of thirty minutes, on account of the impony speed my Thestral guards provide. The strength of a draft pony, and the wing power of a wonderbolt trainee make them excellent endurance fliers. Due to their oft heightened pride, however, they are reserved for important or grandiose trips. For scheduled or leisure travel, the castle’s pegasi are instead employed.

During our descent I see a couple stray members of my guard searching the surrounding area in packs of two, as is procedure anywhere in the Everfree due to its’ inhabitants. They see my chariot and quickly return to the grounds, and by the time I make landfall there’s half a squadron waiting in the courtyard for my command, their superior having left them with inadequate orders.

“You two, continue circling the perimeter. You three, approach Ponyville by sky, and keep an eye on the horizion. She is a pegasus, she’ll likely have exploited that to escapee the forest’s many perils. You, and you, on me. I require guarding while I prepare a spell.”

They all bow low for no more than two seconds before breaking off and darting to their posts. Two Earth Pony/Unicorn pairs patrolling the grounds, the three Pegasi whomst were still on castle grounds to Ponyville, and two Unicorns with me for my preparations in case I require additional casters or for one of them to act as a relay.

I lead my impromptu group through the familiar halls and passages towards the dungeon, suppressing the ever-present desire to stop and reminisce. We arrive within minutes, and sure enough at the back of the cell Goldfish was in there’s a crumbling hole in the back wall, leading to a small dirt hole along the outside of the stone to the surface, where newborn starlight shines through.

The ground is wet, and the wooden platform that is meant to serve as an elevated sleeping platform has been disassembled from the wall, and is leaning up next to the hole. There’s a plank missing, likely what she used to dig out the tunnel. Sticking my head into the hole, a small droplet of something lands on my nose, and I quickly shake my head and clean it off with a hoof, observing what seems like a speck of wet clay. I’m curious how that came to be, but then the situation comes together. The water on the ground, the platform, the stonework.

“Clever.” I mutter, stepping into the vertical tunnel and jumping up onto two legs, craning my neck towards a loose feather caught at the exit, and bringing it back down into the cell with me. I bring it over to a dry section of the cell, and levitate several minor spell components and some chalk from my bags.

‘Alas, not clever enough.’

I’ve been flying my ass off for thirty minutes and ten seconds. I’m small, but even though that means I’m not that heavy, it also means my wings don’t displace as much air as everypony else. All that to say: I am not an endurance flier. Tight turns, high speed? I’m your mare. Triathlon? Nope.

Two problems: One, if I stop now and descend into the treetops below me, it’s extremely likely I die to one of any uncountable threats that linger this deep in the forest. Problem two: I’m heading directly away from Ponyville, since it’s the closest settlement, and likely the first place they’re going to look for me. That means if I stay airborne and one of those guards happens to stumble on my flight path, I’m double screwed since I’m already out of stamina.

“Mauled to death by a freak of nature in the Everfree Forest, or get caught and go back to the castle to get tortured by Luna and her cultists?” I grumble with strained breath. I choose the lesser of two evils, slowing down to a glide and descending into the trees, keeping my eyes and ears open for anything that might want to eat, main, dismember, assimilate with, or otherwise inconvenience me.

Thankfully I don’t see anything that looks hostile, so I settle onto a thick branch jutting out of one of the trees that stretches a bit higher off the ground that the rest, and perch for a few minutes to rest.

My mane and face are caked in dirt from digging my way out of that awful cell, and my hooves are still cold, sore, and damp from splashing the water against the same segment of crumbling wall over and over until it finally gave. I’d love nothing more than to close my eyes and take a nap after taking a quick shower, but I’ve got zero showers and negative zero confidence in my safety around here.

After about five minutes after the five minutes I planned on taking, I decide it’s best to not stay still for too long. I start to ascend, and suddenly there’s a massive yank on my brain, like one of my migraines is finally about to return.

‘Come on, just one day. Just one, dammit!’

I hover midair and grit my teeth through the sudden onslaught of pressure. This feels different than the pain I’m used to, this is something from outside my brain trying to get in.

‘Red Divination? Some kind of geas, maybe?’ I think between mental pushes back against it. Whatever it is, it wants in my head, and it wants in it now. Unfortunately for them, I’ve been through way worse in my own head. I’ll push them back out. This is the first time I’ve had my own head to myself, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let somepony or somecreature take that from me.

I push back, but the intensity grows again twofold. I drop back down into the tree branch and brace against the trunk, biting down on a mud-caked hoof to keep myself from crying out and alerting any nearby predators of my presence.

The struggle continues for another minute, and I can feel the strain in my mind grow stronger and stronger with each passing second. My vision begins to darken, and my limbs tremble as I fight off whatever it is. It takes everything in me to keep it from breaching the walls in my head, but I refuse to give up. It pushes and prods and assaults me, looking for any vulnerability, but with another final shove against the intrusive entity, it recedes, letting the stillness rush back into focus while I recuperate.

"The hell... Did they do to me...?"

While I cradle my head, I hear the sound of wind being displaced just above me; Snapping my head up, I catch the trail of wind from a low-flying Pegasus, flying northeast to southwest.

'Heading back towards the castle? What gives?' I'm surprised, but at the same time grateful that I was forced to wait before taking back off. If I were airborne he would have seen me for sure. My dark green coat's decent camo in this shitty forest, but it's not enough to cloak myself from even a half-baked soldier, goes for double with the newly-arrived star that's basically a second sun. They didn't make that just to look for me, did they? No- It was there before I made it out. That's strange, I don't usually miss details like that.

I give it until the count of thirty just to be sure there's nopony else trailing behind him, and I bolt into the sky heading northwest. Rickety outskirt town, get my strength up, then reconvene with-

Why am I meeting back up with the Timekeeper?

I did my part, and I'm a liability now that everypony knows my face. What point is there in going back?

On the plus-side I'd get to see Dear again. He probably thinks I'm dead, unless somehow they have an insider on Princess Luna's guard force. While there's a lot Star Swirl can do, I don't think there's a pony alive who could pull a fast one on her. At least not in the realm of espionage.

Down-side, he might just put me back down because I'm a liability. I know things, like where his hidey holes are, I wouldn't want me trotting around with anything like that. I don't plan on selling him out or anything, but I've got a few reasons to keep living now, unlike a week prior when I charged into my own lavender death sentence. Maybe I'll cast a memory modification spell, forget everything I've done while I was associated with him? But, that would mean forgetting... No, that's not an option. Not right now, at least. Besides, casting memory modification spells on myself is risky. One neural crossover, one flinch, and I could rewire my whole hippocampus, or cut off my temporal lobe, then i'd be a limp vegetable without anypony any the wiser how to fix me. Likely somepony would diagnose it a coma, or if they really got their practitioners license out of a hay flakes box, brain death.

'I... Could head to Manehattan, Dear's got his assignment with the duchess. If he has downtime looking for SMILE informants, I might pick up his tail at the hole Hot Streak had set up for him.'

The idea's tempting. I'd have to clean myself up and find something to cover up with, but nothing too conspicuous to look like I'm trying to hide my cutie mark or something. Overdressing in public spaces is a red flag anywhere but Canterlot, one of the first pointers in my very short lecture on discretion back when I first got brought onboard. Followed by... Well I wasn't paying much attention, but I've remembered it before. It was 'don't overdress,' uh... Something about how fast to walk? I can't really remember.

... I can't remember something.

I pull up and give a few mighty flaps of my wings to pull myself vertical and glance down at my flank. Thankfully, my cutie mark wordlessly stares back at me, albeit with a lot of mud and dirt caking my coat all around it. I give it a hard stare for a few seconds, but nothing comes to me. No likely scenarios, no ancient spell that could have disconnected me from my talent, I don't even feel the familiar automatic whirring of the mosaic in my head fitting pieces together to feed me pertinent data. It's just my own thoughts. It's just the quiet.

I fight against a shiver that runs through my body, and I start flying again, a troubling mist swirling around my thoughts. Something's different, something's wrong with me, and I can't tell what. I pick up the pace, now significantly more eager to arrive at my destination so I can enlist somepony to help me diagnose the issue.

I need to find a unicorn.

“Quite right, Friend. If that’s all, we’ll reconvene soon. And also… My condolences.”

I give a deep bow as I back out of the Timekeeper's office, keeping my face level and unassuming. Once the door's closed behind me I stand there for a minute, hoof still resting on the handle while I stare blankly at it, lost in thought.

Timekeeper looked confident when I entered, then as soon as I spoke something was off. He lost some kind of insight, some edge he thought he had. When I pushed it, he railroaded the conversation so forcefully that I had to play along, or I'd be betraying some expectation. But what possible expectation could he have set? I hadn't spoken yet, I had no qualms, and out of the blue he implies I need time off. Does he think I'm incapacitated because of Goldfish?

Am I?

No, I'm fully functional. I'm upset, but I'm moving on fine. Few weeks down the road and I'm sure I'll be past it. What's bothering me is the tone shifts, the offensive play, the stronghoof play for seemingly no reason. Nopony backed out, he was lying clear as day to assuage my concerns that he'd lost faith in me. He has no reason to, I've performed well on every mission. Exemplary, even. What could have possibly changed for him to have-

Time magic. Something between the Alpha timeline and whatever he was expecting changed. That wasn't the first time he's been to this point, but it's the first time it's gone that way, meaning only something minor changed that affected my meeting with him. I had my point of discussion prepared before entering the room, so it would have had to be something between entering the safehouse and standing in his room. But what could possibly cause me to show signs of grief in that short of a timespan, and without delaying my arrival?

'My condolences.'

I keep replaying that in my head, scrutinizing it over and over, but there's no tell. Should I confront him abou- Absolutely not, that's idiotic. If I question him he'll feel as if I'm pushing for more information than I need, which is dangerous. I shouldn't be overanalyzing this. I'll eat the mandatory time off, and be back to working my magic by the 20th.

"Yo Dear, you good?"

I pick up my head and whip my body towards Hot Streak, putting on the usual friendly smile I let slip in the few seconds I was stalling at the door. He's sitting behind his U-shaped desk, guarding the lobby of the old office space we've commandeered. His bright yellow coat and mane almost remind me of Spitfire, the Wonderbolt captain. If he dyed the edges of his mane and put on some muscle, he could almost be a gender-swap double.

"Yeah! All good. Turns out the plan's a bust for now, so I've got some free time until the 20th. Think you can get me in with that Cutie Alterator tonight? I'm gonna need to cover my flank for the next few months, and this face is burned." Hot Streak's the assistant, scheduler, logistics guru, and all around yes-pony for whatever we need between tasks. Usually unicorns do clerical work on account of the horn, but Hot Streak's meticulous, fast, and efficient. If he were born with a horn, the world would have been his oyster... And I have a sneaking suspicion that's why he's here in the first place.

Everypony working for the Timekeeper wants something, they need something. Some are more self aware than others, like myself for instance- I know he's using me for my gift, and he probably thinks he owns me for picking me up from a life of mediocrity. The thing is that I'm out for myself. While I acquaint myself with everypony he needs on his side, I get that much closer to the inside, where I can start pulling strings, deciding what information goes to who. I'm no mastermind, but when I have everypony on your side, I won't have to be to come out on top. I just need to commit to my stories. I need to believe my own lies, or I'll be figured out the instant Star Swirl takes me to a Beta timeline and beats my agenda out of me. I need to be willing to die to keep my secret, because the truth is I probably already have.

"Man, too bad. First I'm hearing 'bout it, but whatever. I'm sure he's got his grand plan whatever going on. Fixer's booked weeks ahead, but I'll follow up, see if I can't pull in a favor. Him and Suzie Q just hit the lattice, didn't go too smooth if ya' catch me." I don't.

"Damn, gotta be rough." I say instead, pretending I understood half of that and shaking my head in what I hope looks like genuine pity. "Don't play any cards for it, but I'd appreciate if he can see me before the week's out. Think I'm gonna do some reconnaissance, rather have a new face on before I go so I don't have to bother with the whole hat-n-glasses shindig, y'know?"

"Heh, yeah, I dig." He huffs a little laugh through his nose and pull out his quill with one hoof, the other pulling open a filing cabinet to his right and producing a manilla envelope with the word 'FIXER' written in the tab, all while still looking right at me. "Hit up Mace for some new rags before ya' go, yeah? Twenty minutes and I'll have your appointment. Usual place if I can swing 'em."

"You're a lifesaver, Streak."

"I know." He gives me a shit-eating grin, and I give him an award-winning eyeroll back. Cocky, but he backs it up well enough. I trot out of the lobby area and down the hallway leading to our side rooms. Left's for storage, not much special in there except scrolls and quills, with the occasional grappling hook and improvised explosive.

The door on the right is what I’m after, and thankfully the door’s half-open, and I hear the sounds of a sewing machine whirring away excitedly from inside. I press my shoulder against the door and press it open, stepping inside and looking over at Iron Mace as she feeds the machine a delicate ratio of fabric and thread. She’s a heavyset mare, probably borderline obese by Canterlot standards, with a deep pink coat and a flat, stringy blonde mane and tail.

She’s not much to look at, but she’s a gentle giant if she likes you. A rare case of Cutie Dysphoria, born into an Earth pony family of jousters and show combatants, but her heart’s always been in being a seamstress. And to top that off, her parents weren’t the greatest to her. Kept her locked up in her room most of her life, since they couldn’t be bothered showing her how to live if it wasn’t fighting.

She doesn’t talk much- Or more accurately she can’t- but she understands everypony just fine. Helluva temper though, definitely a mare you want to stay on the good side of.

“Heeey, missy Mace! How are you holdin’ up in here, beautiful?” The machine stops and she turns towards me, knocking over her chair in the process as her face lights up.

“Aa…!” She trots up and wraps my front half in a massive bear hug (to her credit, being careful to not fracture anything this time.) She takes a step back and I give her a friendly smile.

“Well, you look pretty happy today! Boss got you working on something special?” I look her up and down, and she nods her head vigorously, pointing an unsteady hoof at the sewing machine she’s taking a break from. She points a but to the left, and there’s an elaborate dress design on the table. It looks almost like a ballroom getup, but a little less formal. I can’t tell the proportions from where I’m at, but it’s definitely designed for a petite mare.

“Oh wow, you’re gonna give Suit and Taylor a run for their money if you start branching out. Careful, we don’t want too many eyes, you know.”

She lets out a deep, brassy giggle at the compliment, then nods her head towards the far wall, motioning for me to follow. I do, and alone on another folding table she saves just for my outfits is an emerald-green dress shirt with a black jacket and tie, and there’s a pair of matching dress pants with sparse green accents and a second set of beige-colored casual wear, likely meant to compliment my coat and mane.

“Streak said you made some new rags, not a designer fit! Nice going Macey, looks like you really outdid yourself with this one.” I pick up the shirt with my hooves and roll it over itself, feeling the smooth fabric and the seamless stitchesholding together. I embellish a lot when I talk to Mace, she enjoys the attention, but I really mean it this time; This is top notch stitching. I’d probably have to pay over a hundred bits for this quality from any name brand, maybe five in Canterlot or Manehattan. She basks in the praise for a little bit with a massive blush on her cheeks and ears.

“Mm!” She turns away and starts poking around clumsily in a large box under another folding table, pulling out a few accessories and a new bit pouch for me. She drops it all onto the pile and then shovels it into an empty saddlebag for me, nudging it over and nodding her approval.

“Hey, thanks again. I’ll try and remember to get something from Joe’s next time I’m headed back here, keep doing what you’re doing for now though. You’re doing great.”

I say my goodbyes and leave her to her work in higher spirits. She’s humming something to herself as I leave which is rare, but I take it as a good sign. I take the new outfits to one of the side offices that have been repurposed into sleeping quarters, trying on the casual wear in place of bare fur.

I always liked wearing clothing. Something about the way it encompasses you, makes you feel sleek, suavè, and important. It’s a shame it’s reserved for upper class and social occasions, I’d love to trot around anywhere I went in this suit, alas that’d be too much attention for one undercover stallion to handle. Maybe eventually, when I climb my way back up the ranks and rejoin high society I’ll go back to my Armoneigh and Rolex roots, but for today beige khakis will have to do.

My mission might be postponed, but as long as I can get an appointment with the Fixer, I can still be productive in plain sight. Fixer’s a living legend in identity magic, illusory facial manipulation, Cutie Mark Repression, mane and tail behaviors, the works. I’ll have a new identity passable everywhere from Appaloosa to Baltimare if all goes well, and if Streak can pull his strings tonight, I could very well be in Manehattan before next sunset to start gathering leads on SMILE informants.

…

The wind’s knocked out of my sails as I take a step out of my thoughts. It’s just me in the room, and there’s a stillness to the air I haven't felt in ages. This is where she would have told me to ‘Knock ‘em dead’ or something. Even before I brought her into the fold, I told Goldfish I was doing important work. Even with varying amounts of ribbing, I’d always get some form of a ‘good luck’ before I left… It’s silly to linger on that, though. I’ve got work to do.

… Just as soon as my hoof stops shaking.

20 - Private Lessons

PRIVATE LESSONS

How many days have I been sat in the middle of this unwieldily, makeshift excuse for a spell? Hunger used to be a viable method by which I could gauge something as trivial as the passage of time, but with the addition of a sustain spell to the growingly complex matrix of runic inscriptions, even hunger has been erased from my sense of perception. It may have been minutes, it may have been weeks. When the spell takes hold, it's no longer possible for me to be sure, though I decide it’s time to come back up.

I throw my head back, gasping for air as if I were breaching the surface of an oppressive body of water, held fast in its' depths and suffocating within a hair's breadth of losing myself. With a panicked gaze I take in the flat stone walls of my casting chamber, reeling from my vision, searching for an anchor to reality.

This vision was clearer, more focused. The minotaurs mean to ambush the Crystal Empire's representatives and their caravan from the east, no more than three hours time from now judging by the dim light that I saw in the vision. I struggle and fail to keep myself anchored, my eyes glazing over as the spell sucks me back in, showing me every gruesome detail of the events to come.

With the element of surprise, the minotaurs make easy work of the ponies, shattering their fragile gemstone bodies against the ground, harvesting the remains for use as barter. They cry, they scream and beg and plead the whole time, but in swathes they’re broken apart and sundered. I see a chieftain reach down and rip a Fire Ruby that once served as the diplomat’s heart from her chest, still thrumming with magic.

It's a barbaric and horrifying display, and the lingering afterimage of their bodies splayed and shattered across the ground bucks me in the stomach, heart, and head, knocking me off my flank and onto my back as my concentration finally snaps, fully cutting the circle from its’ power supply.

"Your Highness!"

The stallion's voice registers, but only barely so as I recite my internal calming ritual to root myself in my reality. Deep breath in; feel the pressure buildup inside, expanding my lungs and renewing my body for another cycle. Wings pressed hard against my side, feathers brushing against my coat. Clear my head and my horn, now let them stay empty for as long as I can hold the breath. When I exhale, the thoughts will go with it. When I exhale, I'll be in control.

Deep breath out.

I sit up.

"Send a rapid rescue team northwest with any armed pegasus still willing to aid the crown. Promise ten bits a piece to those who can make the first wave, three for those who leave within the hour.”

Ever since Luna’s rebellion, faith in the kingdom (and by extension my leadership) has faltered greatly over the years. This spell is my hope to restore that faith- my Chronomancy. With it I allow the powers that be to direct my gaze across the infinite possibilities of Equestria. In exchange for my power, they show me what I need to see. Assassins, civil uprisings, meals slyly laced with manticore venom, and most recently a tribe of Minotaur ambushing a caravan from the Crystal Empire. It bears a diplomat appointed my Princess Amore, no doubt to renegotiate the terms of our mutual defense agreement in light of the Everfree’s internal struggles as of late. I don't blame her, though it's a selfish move.

My aide looks down at me with worry, and I can’t stop myself from snapping at him. He should already be out the door and down the hall.

“Now!” I yell, and that kick starts his hooves as he darts towards the door to round up the town criers and local militia leaders. I should have specified the threat more clearly, but I’ll announce it to them before they set off.

Ten bits is a hard sell for volunteer combatants, but it’s the most I’ll be able to get by the newly-erected head of treasury without a third bout of round-robin tax debate.

Ugh. I’m getting sick of all of these meetings, too many bureaucratic issues to attend while managing the needs of the Everfree Empire as a whole. I’ve half a mind to go myself, but if I were to fall in battle the tenuous peace I’ve managed here will be undone within the week.

Until I find some sort of new direction or solution for this nation, I must remain safe in my castle and work my way through this mess.

Ten minutes pass and I make my way through the long and empty halls of Everfree Castle until the rattling of horseshoes on stone reach my ears. I turn the last corner and step out into the courtyard, and am greeted by my rapid response volunteers.

All three of them.

“Where are the volunteers?” I ask, and I'm met by silence from both the two pegasus under my employ and the lone earth pony volunteer clad in tattered faux-leather armor. I see my aide half-hidden behind a pillar at the edge of the yard, and he doesn’t meet my gaze.

“There were none, your highness. Nopony else would volunteer for duty for only ten bits.”

I stare blankly forward at the pathetic service. The proper response would be to go out into the public myself to seek aid, and to promise greater rewards, but I don’t know exactly when the ambush will occur, only that it’s late in the afternoon, and the sun is already hanging low in the sky. Any longer delay and I risk the reinforcements arriving to a slaughter.

“Tartarus with it, then.” I curse, flaring my wings and shaking my hoof regalia off. I’ve never wanted to shift my style of governance to a dictatorship, though the thought is starting to cross my mind.

“Princess, you can’t just-!”

I stoop down low, then with a blast of violent wind launch myself into the sky, leaving my minders standing with mouthsagape in the wake of my flight. It’s been weeks since I’ve flown. Even though the situation is dire, I still relish the feeling as I zip north towards the border.

“And then what happened? Did you make it to the convoy in time?”

Twilight’s eyes are wide in anticipation of my retelling, waiting with bated breath as I run my tale from beginning to end. It started as a quip about the first time I abandoned my throne, though her genuine curiosity quickly put a stop to our second pass over fusion principles as I slipped into a storyteller persona, making wide, sweeping gestures and flaring my wings as I announce my intent to save the crystal ponies. It’s a little silly, though she seems almost entranced by it, and her attention possessed me to continue the theatrics.

“I did...” Some of the grandiose luster of my tale fades away as we reach the end. A different memory plays through my mind like a slide projector playing old photographs, clear images like feelings painted upon canvas. The shards I couldn’t piece back together, the ponies I couldn’t save. “But I wasn’t enough. I managed only to save the representative and a young filly of hers. The rest were sundered before us as I took to the sky with the two.”

It pains me to say such things aloud. I keep such gruesome incidents mostly hidden from the public, usually just mentioning them in passing as part of some larger issue. But Twilight deserves to know the truth, and she needs to know if she’s going to be able to trust me moving forward. I fear her innocence will be compromised, but then again I’ve feared that ever since Chrysalis invaded Canterlot. All I can do is try to ease the blow as her jaw begins to hang low indisappointment.

"I see..." Her words sound flat, with a forced calm I can only commend her for. "And without any amulets, I assume you weren’t able to…?"

I shake my head, and she looks up at me for a few seconds with a lost expression. I want to tell her that they felt no pain, or that they were in a better place, though we both know it’d be empty rhetoric.

What I do instead, is unfurl a massive wing and lay it over her back comfortingly. She leans into it slightly and I feel some of her tension dissipate, but it’s troubling for her young mind to process the ravages of the old tribalistic minotaurs’ ways.

“It was a different time, Twilight. These things happened often, it’s why I vowed to turn Equestria into a land of peace by any means necessary when it came to be. And because of brave ponies like them, who were willing to brave the wilds in order to maintain diplomacy, eventually it came to be.”

She’s staring down into an open book on the cloud-proof table, though her eyes are seeing past it with a faraway look. After a few seconds she clears her throat, and her eyes narrow as she makes some connection or realization.

"Was this before or after King Sombra had enslaved them all? When we were there at first, nopony seemed to remember anything after his rule. Because of that I’m inclined to believe it was before, though the nature of their collective amnesia makes it an unreliable educated guess more than anything.”

I let a small smile come back to my lips as my student takes the opportunity to learn something new from the story. Astute as always.

“Before both Sombra’s rise and Luna’s banishment. It was that very unicorn filly whom I rescued that eve who warned us of the evil that beset Sombra. Her name eludes me, but she was a kind soul. Much like your friend Fluttershy I might add, though perhaps not quite so timid.” I give her a small knowing grin, and she nods and returns the gesture as I continue.

“It was soon after they returned to the Crystal Empire that Luna and I were summoned to stop him, and though we succeeded in reverting him to an umbrum shadow form, the one you know him to be, he laid a curse on the empire causing it to vanish into his realm for some thousand years. It was only a few years later that Luna was consumed by her Nightmare, and… Well, the rest is history, as they say.”

My student purses her lips for a moment, though thankfully she seems to be more focused on constructing a mental timeline of the events rather than lingering on the tragedy of the events.

“That doesn’t follow.” She remarks, rubbing a hoof against her chin. I tilt my head curiously, but she abruptly stands up and gallops out of my wing, leaving a chilly wisp of empty cloud vapor in her wake.

“What doesn’t follow, Twilight?”

“That series of events, the timeline doesn’t…” She trails off, and I can see the beginning of a series of mental gymnastics in her head as she trots in a wide circle around the table and myself, kicking up some of the loosely-packed fluffy surface as she does so.

“You’re restating your hypothesis, Twilight.” I remind her of one of the core foundations of her lessons from her younger years, levitating a quill and her newly-bound notebook for her to take. “Show your work.”

Her face softens at that, and she shakes her head a bit, letting her bangs fly side to side with a chuckle.

“Sorry. You’re right, here-“ She returns to my side and takes the quill, scratching a straight line across one of the pages,then making some vertical lines through it at either end. Two at the start, two at the end. “So Princess Luna was banished for a thousand years, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“But the Crystal Empire was also missing for a thousand years, according to you. If Princess Luna was there to seal away King Sombra,” She marks the first line on her timeline with a ‘-S’ denoting (presumably) the banishment of Sombra, and the second with a ‘-L’ for what I assume to be the same for Luna. “So if both were gone a thousand years, the same period of time, logically it would stand to expectation that King Sombra, and by extension the Crystal Empire, would have returned first, but-“

I hold up a hoof to interrupt her as she marks the first line with a ‘+L?’ on the page just above it.

“Another sharp observation, Twilight, well done as always.” I once again reach out a wing and curl it around her again with a proud squeeze. I see her flush a bit at the praise, but I continue. “Luna was indeed gone a thousand years, the Summer Sun Celebration marking the first night of her absence as an appeal to the commonpony that there was no longer a threat to the empire’s stability. The Crystal Empire, however, took time to fade. Time for them began to drastically slow, over the course of nearly four years they continued to decouple from our very reality, until one day they reached a breaking point when their relativity finally reached a standstill, effectively removing them from the timeline. Temporalobliteration.”

I pause for a moment to let her catch up in her fervent scratching of notes, bringing the memories back in my own mind and reconciling them with the barebones line she’d drawn in her notebook.

“It was studying this effect that became the basis for my iteration of Chronomancy you know of today, and shortly thereafter Star Swirl’s inspiration as well. He had hoped to recreate such a leap in time, to disappear for a thousand years just as the city had. Given that he is still somehow alive today, I think it’s prudent that we assume he has.”

“Delay.” I hear her mutter, and the scratching stops suddenly.

“Beg your pardon?” I lean a bit away to look down at her properly, but she claps the notebook closed and drops it on the table, looking up and turning to face me directly. I lower my wing and do the same.

“His spell. It’s called ’Delay’. I… saw it, in Goldfish’s memory- The pegasus who, you know.” Her concentration turns a bit frantic as she searches through old memories for a moment, tapping a forehoof against the side of her muzzle.“He was trying to become immortal? To exist for thousands and thousands of years like an Alicorn?”

I nod slightly, contemplating the worst, though she seems more enthralled by the prospect of discovery.

“In a way, yes, though in the end Star Swirl the Unicorn will only persist for, at best, two hundred years from his own relative perspective. Even if he were to skip a week for every day, he would still be nearing the end of his lifespan so far into the future. For him to still be spry, it would mean there’s been times where he’s had significant stretches of time to skip freely, likely he skips straight to two centuries ago entirely and begins there…” I’m lost in thought now too, more-so thinking aloud than I am explaining now. It would make sense, why I can never find him despite how much I scried all those years- He’s just not there to be found. Completely disentangled from the timeline.

“Uh, Princess? I think you lost me. What do you mean ‘Starts there?’” She looks up, blinking in confusion at my words. I sigh heavily.

“Star Swirl’s consciousness is anchored in time, nearly a thousand years ago. Whenever he perishes, he returns to that point in time with all that he learned from his previous lives. I didn’t think it was possible, and to be honest I still refrain from accepting it as fact, that a unicorn could cast such an intricate and demanding spell. Never before have I successfully cast it, nor anypony in all the years I’ve been alive. Including-“ I motion to the collection of advanced technology and magical theorum before both of us, trying to let its’ incalculable impossibility set in.

“I mean, he was a genius- or, is- anyway, is it really that hard to believe he solved it?”

She furrows her brow and watches my expression carefully, watching my reaction closely enough that I’m not sure if I should fake a tell just to satiate her.

“Yes.” I finally retort, and though she seems surprised, I elaborate before she can interject. “Genius or no, it is unbelievable. Chronomancy was a pinnacle discovery in the golden age in which I was raised, it was the holy grail of magic research, the apex achievement a magician could ever hope to contribute to, alongside true alchemy and restoration magic. If anypony were to crack it, it would mean more time to learn more spells, and more spells to gain more time, ad infinitum.”

“I’m guessing all the past tense means…?”

“In the several hundred years before the megaspells wiped everypony back to the stone ages, no, it was never so much as observed to function properly to my knowledge. Even this ‘delay’ spell sounds improbable, though there is little other explanation to explain his longevity. I hesitate to even label such magic similar to my own, being so vastly different in function.”

I feel something nudge at my side, and with a startled blink I see Twilight poking at me with a gentle hoof, smiling patiently.

“Yes, Twilight?”

“Princess, if I could remember the spell matrix for all the components for his spell circle… Could you recreate it? To verify its’ existence, I mean. Purely informative purposes.”

I stare at her blankly for a few moments after she asks that particular question. Star Swirl’s spell matrix? She can’t mean going and seeking him out in person, can she?

“I don’t think speaking to him directly again would-“

She holds up a hoof to cut me off this time. It’s strange to be on the receiving end of the gesture, but I silence myself nonetheless. Her mouth opens a bit as she looks between me and her hoof, then sheepishly chuckles.

“Uh, sorry. Picking up your habit, I think.” I raise an eyebrow, not certain if I should be insulted. “But no, I mean I’ve seen it. Again, in here.” She taps her hoof against her own head a few times, and the meaning clicks.

“Goldfish memorizes everything she reads…” I breathe in disbelief, remembering the details of the prisoner Luna had taken nary a week ago before I locked myself up for a divining spree.

“…And she’s read his spell circle. That’s why he killed her, or at least thought he did.” My ever-enlightening student finishes for me. While my mind wanders along that train of thought, Twilight begins sketching a multi-layer high-power spell in a fresh page of her notebook.

During the nights’ many discussions and revelations she’d managed to fill nearly half of the massive thing with both shorthoof recaps of topics in addition to her own ideas for their possible implementation. Her new spellbook has a few utility spells from the golden age, but nothing of cataclysmic danger should she actually cast them. After her fifth layer, however, I pull myself away and linger over her shoulder as she continues to add onto it, over and over etching more hastily-scratched runes when I thought she was wrapping the last matrix up.

I recognize a heavily modified ’Cyr’s Seeing,’ ‘Momentum,’ and an old pre-rune enchantment recreation of ’Jer’rahd’s Reinforcement’. There’s another patchwork circle of runes, but she stops frequently mid-etch, lost in indecision, clearly struggling to recall the formation. She levitates the bit pouch she was wearing when I whisked her away and pulls out a piece of parchment from it, folded over itself many times.

I lean forward over her shoulder to take a look at its’ contents, but as it’s wrapped in Twilight’s lavender aura, it stops and hovers midair.

“Uh, Princess?”

“Hmm?” I ask, turning my head to her and inadvertently shoving her face with my own. I apologize and step aside to give her room to turn herself and get comfortable again, then I sit beside her and wait patiently for her to finish what she’s doing.

She laughs it off, and inside of the note I see a much more hastily-written version of what she’s already inscribed. She hovers the quill over the fourth and final rune from her notepad and comparing it to the paper, though there’s nothing on the loose paper she hadn’t already inscribed. With a frustrated groan she crumbles it up and tosses it aside, and I reach out subconsciously grabbing it in my own magic before it falls through the cloud and to the world below.

“You need to be careful with this, Twilight. If the wrong pony found this,”

“Sorry, sorry, I know, It’s just… It’s infuriating! I’ve seen it before, heck I cast a spell with this and I can’t even remember half of it!” She taps a forehoof impatiently against the table, and I watch as she takes a deep breath, holds still, and lets it out alongside a fluid motion with her other hoof. A trick Cadence taught her, if I’m not mistaken, and that I taught Cadence.

“This is Luna’s custom rune, you cast a spell with this?” I ask, surprised she even knows about the rune, let alone cast something with it without harmonizing to Luna’s magical signature. ’Twilight, you truly never cease to amaze.’

“I did, but subconsciously. It’s Star Swirl’s spell, it utilizes Luna’s spell matrix styling as well as her custom major rune. I think whatever ailment I temporarily had from Goldfish is responsible, and I’m almost certain that it’s the key to figuring out what this is.” She taps on a fifth, completely empty circle where a spell flux modifier would feed into. A five-stage Mitè-Major spell in an unharmonized matrix is ludicrous, even I couldn’t freecast this, I’m certain of it.

“And this spell, what does it do when you cast it in its’ entirety?” I can infer it’s an enhancement spell of some kind. Jer’rahd’s reinforcement is a way for a caster to temporarily gain the strength to rival that of an Earth Pony, though their bodies are generally too frail to sustain it for long. Cyr’s Seeing has a strange tweak, casting divination magic as an enchantment spell, targeting the eyes. A way to see in the dark, perhaps? Momentum ties in directly with the two, though it’s modified to he released as a slow burn over a period of… Zero. Instant release of a long-term boon. That’s a very peculiar and seemingly useless modification.

“I think it stops time.” She responds simply, continuing to pour over her notes in search of anything that could aid her.

I stare at the side of her head in shock. Time stoppage… How much power must a spell like that require? Ten Vis? Twenty? Fifty? I thought I was ahead if her all this time, but…

My thoughts trail far behind as she continues describing the rest of the diagram, which includes modifications to her minor rune spells and new additions. I nod along, but when she quiets down and waits for my response, I’m not quite sure what to say.

“I’ve never seen anything like this, Twilight. Truly.”

I see her chest swell up, but when neither of say anything for a few seconds she starts to understand the implication of that.

“You mean…?”

“If your hypothesis is correct… Yes. This is new magic. The kind even the Alicorns of old were never able to synthesize.” I look down at my hooves with a grim expression. In one instant I am filled with both hope and nerves beyond belief. This could be a discovery worthy of great praise, though there’s little to suggest it’s true besides her word. I’ve seldom known Twilight to outright lie, if ever, though the possibility that she’s somehow cracked what could be arguably the most cataclysmic school of reality-defining magic known to Equus unnerves me infinitely more than it comforts me.

Is this truly how it culminates? The final dawn I’ve seen so many times, is Twilight really to be the one to stumble upon something we can never un-learn? There’s still the chance she would heed an order- No, a plea to leave it be. To let me handle Star Swirl and modify her memory-

“Princess, you’re shaking…” I feel Twilight's hoof lay itself over my own, and it pulls me away from the chaotic frenzy of desperate ploys and excuses. I look down at her and open my mouth, but the words don't come as I bid them. She looks increasingly more concerned every second I don't say anything, and I force back the uncertainty and try again.

“I- So I am. I apologize, I'm just... Considering the implications." I give her a weak smile, but she's starting to piece together my concern faster than I can think of a way to explain what assuming true control over the fourth dimension could mean.

"You don't want me to learn this." She guesses. Her hoof presses down more tightly on my own, and I still have nothing to offer her. "You're scared of the potential something this unpredictable could exert over Equestria?" Her eyes narrow and give me a hard stare, and I continue to sit in silence as she follows my line of thinking on her own.

"If this really is new, and you've never seen something like it before, that means he can't have either! Unless... Unless he has seen it, and tried coming back again after learning about it."

"Looped.” I offer. She tilts her head and thinks about it, but nods her head quickly.

“Yeah, if he’s seen it and… Looped, then either he doesn’t think it matters, or he knows he can counter it. The alternate possibility is that this is the first iteration of this timeline to progress this far, and it’s our best shot to catch him by surprise with something he won’t expect.”

We share smiles as she finishes her tangent, but her point brings to mind a great deal. Every other attempt to stop Star Swirl during his rampages has failed. Each and every time an overwhelming amount of planning and resources were dedicated to entrapping him, and every time he’s seen them coming.

Twilight has an excellent point in that he may have been this far, he may have even somehow circumvented my ace in the hole spell, though it’s incredibly unlikely.

“I agree completely, my faithful student. It would be a great boon, and… Though its’ potential does indeed frighten me, I realize now that I could think of nopony better to entrust it to.”

She flushes a bit, but accepts the praise without argument and smiles again.

“Princess Luna said she could arrange a meeting with Goldfish if we weren’t able to figure it out, I guess that’s the next logical step. If she can’t remember, or won’t help, the only options we have are Star Swirl himself, or messing my brain up again until I accidentally cas-“

“Absolutely not.” I stiffen my back and reassert my authority. “It’s dangerous enough to undergo reconstruction once with your own data, especially for the brain. Until your body renews itself naturally, the risk of complication is not something I’m willing to let you risk.” She stares at me wide-eyed as I explain, taking her hoof back to her own chest.

“I didn’t realize there was a chance for complications… The amulet seemed to have every part of the pony listed, down to the atom.”

“And so it does, but it is not your mind you're attempting to meld with, remember. Just because you survived the first time being merged with foreign input does not mean you would do so again. Neural paths develop and erode continually, and there is no guarantee that enough would connect to allow you to function. With or without Luna to fix any complications, I cannot condone such a reckless decision.”

I look down at her with a stern warning gaze, but there’s an apologetic undertone to it. It’s a good idea if you follow her logic, but any credible risk to her is too much to gamble right now.

“Okay… I won’t use Goldfish’s soulgem. Cross my- I mean, I promise.” She raises her hoof to her chest and hesitates before lowering it again with a chuckle.

I raise a hoof in the air, and then place it gently over one of her eyes. Pinkie promises may as well be legally binding. She chuckles again, but brushes my hoof away as we both look down at her notebook, and the unfathomably convoluted half-spell that’s scratched into it.

“I don’t suppose you’d mayyyybe let me take those books home with me~?” Twilight asks, arching her back and tilting her head to exacerbate the wide-eyed persuasiveness she’s attempting.

“These texts contain information from centuries of research, if they were to fall into the wrong hooves-“

“I know, I know, doom equestria and erase cities. I had to ask.” She interrupts my explanation, and the act drops into areserved disappointment.

“…Perhaps ‘Dimensional Awareness’ and ’Industrial Reactor Maintenance’ could be done without for a few nights. You’ll need to transmogriphy them whenever you’re not within hoof’s reach-“

“I will! I’ve been practicing illusion magic ever since you showed me that hologram of the Crystal Empire, they’ll be safe with me!”

I’m taken aback by the enthusiasm for a moment, but between the stars in her eyes and the fervor she sorts through our lesson material to find the two books, I feel content just watching her be happy for a little while. About ten seconds later, she has the lot sorted and alphabetized with her two levitating above her.

“I’ll bring them with us and pass them off to you on the ground. I must prepare for Day Court, and you need to speak with Luna, assuming she hasn’t already turned in for the morning.” I wrap all the books up in my telekinesis and float them gently into my saddlebags, weighing me down at least an extra hundred pounds.

Once the table is clear of obstruction, I wrap it in my magic and it begins to collapse back in on itself, the metal condensing and compacting back into the thin, dense rod of material, ready to reshape at a moment’s notice.

“Come now, I’ll take you home. Try to sleep after you speak with Luna. I don’t want you pursuing this for a week with no sleep.” I pack the metallic rod away as well, then I lower myself to the now-empty cloud top, tucking a wing and leaning a bit to the side to allow her to climb onto my back.

Instead she stares at my saddlebags, not moving. Her forehead’s creased in some kind of discontent, and I tilt my head in return.

“Is something the matter, my dear student?” I prompt, and she shakes her head, but the creases and the brows don’t fall away. “Are you still uncertain of my sincerity?” I ask plainly. I try to withhold any hurt from the suggestion, but the possibility that even after everything she may still distrust me does sting a bit.

“No! No, nothing like that, Princess.” She shakes her head again and looks up with a gentle smile, though it almost seems… Melancholic?

I lay myself down fully on the cloud and let my wings splay freely, leaning down slightly to be eye-to-eye with her, but she quickly averts her gaze to her own forehooves.

“You can tell me anything, Twilight. Even if you think I won’t like whatever it is.”

She shifts uneasily, rocking her weight from her left side to her right and biting at the inside of her lip. She looks back up to me, away, then back again.

“It’s just that… We haven’t had a private lesson like today since I left Canterlot.” She says softly, avoiding my gaze.

I blink, and my mouth opens the slightest bit before I command it closed again. It’s true I haven’t instructed her directly on academic topics in many years, though that’s mostly on account of her knowing nearly as much as I do on most subjects. Anything I could have taught her would have been beyond her time.

“I’m sorry if you feel I’ve neglected you as a student, Twilight, I’ve just been of the mind that you were progressing rather successfully with your self-studies and independent research. Frankly, you’ve begun teaching me these last few years.”

She laughs, shaking her mane out and raising a hoof to rub behind her ears nervously.

“You’re right, I’ve been doing fine with Spike’s help back home, but I meant more like…”

Oh.

“I… See.” I respond. It’s a lackluster reply, and it fails to address anything, though it fills the silence for a moment while I think. “I’ve missed our time together as well, Twilight. Unfortunately life has a way of keeping ponies apart sometimes, be it friends, royal duties, or impending doom.” I smirk, and she gives me a little chuckle out of pity.

I let out a small sigh through my nose, and once again I reach a wing out in front of me and hold it against her side. She leans into it a bit, but looks up with curiosity.

“However, it seems that I have some new material for you now, and I am one of the two ponies alive who could instruct you in it. Perhaps we could find some time for each other on a more regular basis? For research’s sake.”

Her eyes glean and her mouth breaks into a wide grin at the suggestion, and she rushes up to hug me.

“That sounds amazing. I’m sorry for snapping at you at the castle, that wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t ha-“

I wrap both wings around her and press her fast against me with moderate force, silencing her apology and bringing my hooves up to her back, patting her shoulders in a calming motion.

“There’s nothing to apologize for, my faithful student. And nothing to forgive.”

Day Court starts soon. I’m already going to be late after taking her home, but this moment supersedes any possible scheduling conflict that doesn’t involve direct, imminent threats to Equestria.

I hold her for a few more minutes to ease her mind. I’d love nothing more than to indulge her with further lessons and quality time alone, though I’ve neglected my duties too long already. I lift my head from hers and turn my gaze east, lighting my horn and summoning my birthright to wipe away the final vestiges of twilight from the sky.

Eventually I convince her to climb up onto my back willingly, though she puts up a fuss about it being an imposition on me. But when she sees the deadpan stare I’m meeting her qualms with the mare finally relents.

We leave the clouds behind and fly atop the newly brightened skies. I took us a bit further from canterlot than I’d meant to, but it’s hardly a strain to glide further along the side of the grand mountain before descending towards the city from above.

“Wow, I’ve never seen it from way up here before. It’s gorgeous!” Twilight chimes, and indeed the city is quite lovely. The castle shines with the early morning light, flaunting its’ golden accents and ivory towers as the king piece of the sprawling districts layered below. I duck my head a bit down and to the side so she can get a better look before we fall below the skyline.

“You have, actually, though I don’t fault you for not remembering. You were still a young filly, and to be candid I thought you would never want to fly again with how scared you were.” The memory brings a fond smile to my face.

“Oh, wow, I can’t believe I don’t remember that. Though I guess it would make sense, ponies tend to suppress traumatic events at a young age. Common theory claims those kinds of suppressed memories are the root of most common phobias; Claustrophobia, from being locked up in some small space, arachnophobia in areas more densely populated with insectoids, et cetera.” She rattles off what she learned about trauma induced mental blocks, and despite the rather dour subject I find myself smiling at the thought.

“Perhaps it’s manifested itself in a fear of heights, then?” I tease, banking wide to the left and right to give her a more direct line of sight to the city below. I feel her chuckle on my back in retort.

“Nope, can’t say I feel any acrophobic manifestations, nor signs of concerning levels of stress due to exposure.” She shoots back, disarming the verbal prod the way only she can; With far too many syllables.

True to my word, when we touch down before her parents’ home I furl a wing and kneel for her to hop off, drawing the two promised tomes I promised her and offering them up for her to take. She wraps them up with her kinetic field and claims them happily, giving me one last hug before taking her leave and heading inside with a promise of getting some sleep before going to see sister. In the busy morning there’s a number of passers-by that stop what they’re doing to stare and gawk, doubly so when they see Twilight hop off my back like a filly.

I give them all a cordial nod, then launch myself into the air before anypony can get a picture.

I’ll need to have Luna make sure Twilight actually finds her way to her bed, and not to a lectern. I try not to make a habit of spying on law abiding ponies, though I make infrequent exceptions when it’s justifiable. Before any of that, though, I should prepare for Day Court. The line is likely already piling over itself with ponies trying to vie for first crack at their proposal or voice some grievance.

With a groan belaying the frustration of a restless day to come I charge up my horn, teleporting directly to the only transpositionally-unwarded section of the Royal wing, my hidden study, the one fifty feet below my quarters and two hundred feet deep in the mountain.

Theoretically it’s possible for somepony to stumble upon this backdoor to the most heavily-guarded section of the castle, though without knowing precisely where it is the risk of teleporting into solid matter is a very lethal deterrent from trying, assuming anypony even knew if it to begin with.

I stash the Rod of Density and the assortment of books, scrolls, and tomes back to their respective shelves and dividers. There’s maybe two hundred books and a few dozen research papers here I deemed important enough to salvage from the old castle, all from varying ages and stages of industrial and magical progress in time. Once things calm down, perhaps I’ll bring Twilight here directly to explain more about how a nuclear reactor works.

She’d appreciate that, the prospect of harnessing chemical reactions for energy enthralled her for a large portion of the night, I had to practically rip her away from industrialism to get her to focus more on her own special talent.

After everything is sorted and stowed in the various wooden storage solutions, I take a minute to produce a quill and parchment, scratching an extremely shorthand version of the patchwork matrix series’ of Star Swirl Twilight was struggling with earlier.

Maybe I can make some headway on it tomorrow while she speaks with that Goldfish mare. I’ve half a mind to speak to her myself as a primer, though sister is correct that it’d be unwise. I’ll settle for a role helping where I must, here in the Castle. I’m sure Twilight can handle it on her own.

I turn around and trot through the single door to the room, making the journey slower than I could through the long hallway back to my study. I’m already ten minutes late by now, another five won’t hurt.

21 - The Things I Should Have Said

THE THINGS I SHOULD HAVE SAID

“-more than welcome to stay as long as you like! Here at Our Town, we’re all happy to help anypony who’s lost their way, literally or figuratively!”

I can’t remember her name.

Everypony around me has the same cutie mark- the exact same equals sign cutie mark- they all have smiles on their faces and they wave with an outward jubilance, but I know a fake smile when I see it. Dear drilled all the tells into me while we were on our stakeouts.

Then there’s the matter of this mare’s attitude. Maybe not her attitude, but… Well, she’s really buckin’ weirding me out. Reminds me of a cult leader honestly, she’s a cult leader offering to feed and house me for the night.

My wings keep trying to unfurl so I can fly away as quick as possible, but I remind them I’m not going anywhere fast without at least a rushed preening and washing. Doubly so with Lunar guards likely sweeping this half of equestria for me.

I follow along behind her as we walk up the street towards the only home that doesn’t look like it was duplicated from a green hoof contractor’s copy-paste sketchbook. As we walk she starts rattling off the names and responsibilities of most ponies and their respective establishments as we pass them, and she really pushes the ‘equally helpful’ bit.

“Everypony in Our Town contributes, and everypony shares in the fruits of our labor!” She chimes, swaying her head to some unheard rhythm and waving at who I assume is a baker. She waves back and begins setting some charred muffins on a windowsill. Bleugh.

“Sounds nice, where I’m from most ponies just kinda do their own thing and tell you to get bent.” I force a half-hearted chuckle. She keeps walking, but looks back over her shoulder with a knowing look. After a second she nods and it takes on more of a pitiful tone.

“Most of us understand that too, it’s one of the biggest reasons why nopony who’s ever come to Our Town has ever wanted to leave!”

Red flag. BIG red flag. I feel my heart betraying the unfeeling mask I’m wearing, but I force it back down in my chest. I’m sure that’s just salespony hyperbole, and even if it isn’t, I can just slip out the back a couple hours before sunrise and they’ll be none the wiser.

“Really? Must be some helluva place then.” I muse to keep the conversation flowing, though I notice her wince a bit at my curses. “Sorry, got that from the city too.”

“I understand. Habits make roots and burrow themselves deep, don’t they?” She asks, turning forward again while we walk. Normally I’d come up alongside her, but I think I’d rather be able to keep an eye out from behind right now, so I stay a few paces back.

“Yep, sure do.” I agree, trying to sound casual. We continue through the streets of Our Town until we reach what I assume is her house.

“I’ll make the guest room for you, and again you’re free to stay as long as you like. I’ll have somepony bring you lunch as soon as it’s prepared, I’m sure you must be starving! Where did you say you came in from again, Ms…?” She prompts, expertly weaving in a double-hitter.

It would be extremely rude to refuse to elaborate without a good reason, and I didn’t think of an alias before I came here. Stupid! How could I trot into a-

“That’s alright, I don’t need to know. Where you came from, who you are, none of that matters while you’re here.” She reassures me after I fail to answer in only a few seconds. It’s a quickly formulated response, and I’d bet she’s had plenty of interactions just like this.

“…Thanks. It’s a bit complicated.” I lie. She smiles with that same knowing look, then nods and leads me inside.

The walls are smooth with well-packed stonework, and there’s a large square rug set in the center of the living space. An empty fireplace sits in the corner with three hunks of wood ready to ignite inside, and there’s a couple seats and side tables along the walls, with a two-pony couch perfectly centered beneath a framed painting of their ( = ) cutie mark. The whole place is spotless, clean to the point of compulsive perfection.

“That’s you right there, I have a little speech planned for the afternoon so I’ve got to get to it. I’ll be around if you need anything, but Double Diamond is just out front and to the right if you can’t find me.” She opens one of the doors with a minty cyan aura, then in a quick flash I see the fireplace ignite into a roaring orange flame. More subtly I see some things in the room rearranging themselves. Telekenisis without line of sight on multiple objects, incredibly impressive for a backwater mayor unicorn. She gives me a subtle nod before turning tail and trotting back outside before I can respond.

“…thanks.” I mutter, though she’s ten paces gone before the words dissolve into the quiet home.

I’ve never been huge on being in somepony else’s house alone, but given the situation I can't afford to be picky. I take a seat next to the fire, letting the heat seep into my worn and sore legs. My stomach growls and reminds me that I haven’t eaten anything but a scoop of apple mush and stale hay since breakfast yesterday morning.

The heat from the flames also reminds me of the dirt and mud that’s caked into my coat, and now that I’m not flying or full-tilt galloping from a small swarm of lunar sentries I’m starting to remember how uncomfortable and tired I am.

Once I’m warmed up and confident my legs can handle another stretch of walking, I get up and trudge over to the spare room that’s waiting for me. There’s a single-wide made bed sitting atop a wooden frame covered in a white blanket. A simple table and chair sit beside it, and at the foot of the bed lays a folded towel and a dull, unassuming brown cloak. I let myself smile a bit at the thoughtfulness of the gesture, and I grab the towel in my teeth, resolving to find the bathroom.

A closet and a second bedroom of wandering later I find it, and I spend the next ten minutes letting the lukewarm water soften and pull away at all the grime I’ve accumulated over the last week. It’s not as quick as diving into a stormcloud headfirst, but it’s thorough enough.

’How do they get warm water, and where does the plumbing infrastructure originate for an eleven-home community?’ I idly wonder. Commonly tall water towers collect rainwater and use gravity to force-feed it down using water pressure via a closed system of-

I shake my head, letting the water run down my neck and upper back. Old habits, huh…?

“-been? We haven’t seen you in what, three months? How’s Ponyville been for our little heroes?”

“Oh, y’know, it’s alright. Twilight’s been busy with her research on old Crystal magic the last few months, so I’ve been helping Rarity harvest gems. She even started paying me for it, something about federal man-something.” Dad raises an eyebrow at that, but I just shrug back.

It’s been months since we’ve all seen each other, so I’m up early like old times for family breakfast. Twilight was gone when I woke up, and neither of them have seen her, so she must’ve snuck out last night and not come back yet. Her old bit pouch was gone from her desk and a fresh inkwell’s out without a covering, so I guess it’s fair to assume she’s safe. Maybe she went back to talk to the Princess, or maybe she’s in the Canterlot archive. Who knows.

“Would have been nice if she at least left a note.” I remark idly, poking at the sapphire pancakes with my fork. They’re delicious, but I don’t have much of an appetite right now.

“Oh, honey, you know how she gets. Once she’s got an idea it’s shoop!” Mom draws her hoof from her forehead out into the air in a quick, zipping motion. “Off to the races.”

“I know, it’s just… You know, sometimes I just wish she-“

There’s a heavy Blmp! outside as something heavy impacts the road, followed by a metallic clinking of horseshoes on stone. We all turn toward the front of the house just as the door begins to glow a familiar shade of purple, and Twilight gallops into the living room with a few thick books wrapped in her magic. She looks happy, really happy actually. She must’ve gone and talked to the Princess after all.

“Gooood morning~!” She chimes, trotting past us and up the stairs, bobbing her head to some invisible rhythm with a wide grin. A few seconds later there’s the unmistakable thuds of books hitting tables, and the scrape of her chair being pulled back to sit in.

Mom and dad both share a glance between themselves.

“She seems… Excited today. Did she go somewhere?” Dad asks absent-mindedly.

I hop off my own chair and jaunt over to the front window, pulling back a curtain and looking towards the castle. Sure enough, there’s a jet-white Alicorn mid-air and charging her horn for a fraction of a second before she blinks out of existence with a quick pop-crack!

“Yep, that was her.” I confirm to myself out loud, returning to the table. They both nod silently, understanding what I mean without needing context. I take another bite of the sapphire pancakes, resolved to not let them go to waste.

We all sit in relative silence for a few more minutes, listening as Twilight runs around her room and occasionally shouts some incoherent strings of words. Every second that passes I get more impatient, and by the time my plate’s clear I realize my foot’s been rapping against the legs of my chair.

“Go on, honey. You know how she is, if something’s wrong you’ve got to tell her.” Mom pipes up from across the table.

I bite at the inside of my lip while staring intently at the wall separating the kitchen and the staircase. I need to go today, and if I don’t really hash this out, it’s gonna be rough for both of us.

“You’re right. It’s the guard thing, she said- she promised we’d talk about it! Then she sneaks off and when she comes back she just-“ My tangent’s cut off by an uncut chunk of glazed opal stuck into my mouth by a violet glow.

“I understand, honey, but you need to tell her that.” Mom says softly, patting my shoulder reassuringly. The warmth of her hoof makes me feel better despite everything.

My eyes dart nervously to the ceiling, and then back to the staircase. I look back to mom and dad; They both give me reassuring nods, and mom nudges me forward. I follow her suggestion and jump down onto the floor, taking in a deep breath and turning to head upstairs.

’-residue due to the intense heat caused by the chemical reaction… So that’s how they powered their rainbow factories! Which means Cloudsdale is actually progressing energy technology faster than expected, they might only be a few decades away from-’

“Hey, Twilight?”

I snap my head up from the desk, looking over my shoulder at the source of whoever’s invoking my attention span away from the priceless paragraphs. It’s Spike. That’s great, that’s perfect! He can help me organize notes for the dissertation I’m already planning out in my head.

“Oh, Spike, great timing! I’m on section 2C, do you want to grab the—“

“I actually was hoping we could talk. You know, like you promised.” Spike interrupts me with a reserved look, and it rips me out of my hyper-focused headspace as I remember our brief exchange in Celestia’s casting chamber. I take a shallow breath in and out, mentally resetting for the conversation I've been concerned about for the last 24 hours.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I got distracted by- Oh! The Princess and I were up last night discussing old world technology," I start, picking up the book on reactor maintenance and floating it over to him. He gives it a cursory look-over in his claws, but ultimately sets it down on the floor.

"That's... Well it's a good start I guess, but I still don't think getting involved any more is a good idea." He says flatly, crossing his arms. I sigh deeply before responding.

“I know, Spike. And… I know it might feel like I've been ignoring your input-"

"You have been." He interrupts again. I understand the temper, but being interrupted is a massive pet peeve and he knows it. I chew on my tongue impatiently and we sit in silence for a few seconds. I give him a look to ask 'are you done?' When he doesn't offer any further rebuttal, I continue.

"I know it might feel that way, but this is big. Fate-of-Equestria big! If we don’t-“ I pause, rethinking the best way to verbalize it. “If somepony doesn’t stop Star Swirl, he has a way to keep trying to overthrow the Princesses until he succeeds. This is what I’m good at, Spike. I can beat him at his own game! I just need to find the last piece so I can cast the spell myself.” I say firmly, holding eye contact with him. After a moment Spike looks away, eyes staring off into space.

"And what if you fail? What then?" He asks defiantly, boring a hole in the wall with his gaze. I trot over and interject myself between the glare and the uncaring wall, sitting in front of him and cupping his cheeks in my hooves.

“That’s the neat part. If I don’t get it right, I can just try again, just like him. At least if the spell functions like I think it does. I won’t let him win. I don’t know exactly how I’m going to do it yet, but I’m going to stop him.” I tell him earnestly. Spike shakes his head.

“What if there was another way?" His voice is low now, almost pleading.

"There isn't," I answer simply. “If there was, I’m sure the Princesses would have done it by now. Star Swirl wants Princess Celestia dead. He wants to kill somepony else, Spike. Like he almost-“ I pause and swallow the foreign concept down, remembering that there was no ‘almost.’ “…Like he did with Goldfish, and probably a lot of others.” The words taste sour in my mouth even though they're true. It's not fair, or right; certainly not something anypony should ever need to worry could happen to them. But that’s something I could prevent, and I need him to understand that.

He’s lost in thought again. I see the gears turning over in his mind, weighing things against themselves like I do whenever a problem presents itself. Finally he speaks up.

“But why does Star Swirl want Celestia dead? Nopony just decides to go full psycho-pony for no reason. And I don’t like the way she handles her future-whatever either, but I wouldn’t hurt anypony over it.” Spike says slowly. My ears perk slightly and I feel a slight smile sneak onto my face. Even if it’s for the sake of argument, he’s even taking the time to consider Star Swirl’s side of things. Something I failed to do when it mattered most. The irony’s not lost on me.

“A lot happened at the end of the Everfree Empire’s life, I’d imagine a large part of it was Princess Luna and Nightmare Moon, but the only way to really know for sure is to talk to him again.”

Spike jolts back a step, taking my hooves in his claws and giving me a bewildered look. I figured he’d react negatively; I clamp my mouth shut and prepare for the earful he’s going to argue. After he calms down I can explain the half-baked idea I have.

“…After you figure out your spell. Then you won’t really be in any danger, because you... And if he doesn’t know that you’re… Then he can’t…” Spike’s grip goes slack, and his scaly brows cross over themselves intensely as his mind races at the implications.

I lift my head from the subconscious brace I hadn’t realized I was in, staring at him with wide eyes while he stares at the ground. Especially given how foreign all of this theoretical temporal manipulation is, he’s blazingly quick on the uptake to have reached the same conclusion in only a few seconds.

“Do you really think you can-“ He comes back to reality and looks back up, meeting my gaze, before going quiet again for a few seconds. “…Yeah. Yeah, of course you can.” His voice sounds more assured despite the uncertainty. It gives me a warm feeling of pride to hear what I can only hope is confidence, but it’s quelled by a cold sting in my heart.

“It’s going to take a while. Weeks, probably. Maybe months, and I’m going to need to convince Goldfish to help, but I’m a hundred percent certain it’ll work if we can get everypony to cooperate.” My words sound less confident than they feel inside. There‘s still too much unknown, not even knowing where or when to start. The one thing I do know, though, is that Spike’s faith in me is returning. “…Which is why I think you trying to better yourself is a great opportunity, too.”

Spike’s arms go fully slack around mine, and his mouth opens the slightest bit while he processes what I just said. For a moment he seems to be considering what to say, but I wait patiently for him. Once again, I don’t have to wait long.

“You mean you’re okay with it, then? I mean, don’t get me wrong I appreciate you coming around, but… I dunno, you just really seemed like you were gonna fight me on this one. I thought…” He stops and lowers his head a bit, kicking idly at the ground. “I thought I was gonna have to go through training knowing you were mad at me.”

“I’m not happy about it.” I admit without hesitation. If anything, I want him here with me to help me with my research, with the side-benefit that I can make sure nopony affiliated with Star Swirl gets their hooves on him. “But as much as I hate to admit it, being surrounded by a detachment of Lunar trainees and guards is probably one of the safest places you can be right now. If the castle wasn’t as warded as it is, I would probably ask one of the Princesses to help me develop a pocket dimension for us to plan in.”

“Pocket whoda-what now?” He asks curiously. I shrug slightly and shake my head.

“Doesn’t matter. The point is I’m not mad at you, and I should have made that clear to begin with. I’m upset at the circumstances, but I shouldn’t have let that affect how I treat you.”

I scoot forward a bit and press my hooves behind his shoulders, closing my eyes and pulling him in for a big, sappy, apologetic hug. Thankfully, he seems happy to return the gesture without complaint. I would have expected a bit of a chewing out in retaliation for being a bit of a jerk about the whole guard thing, but forgiving and forgetting is a mercy I’m more than happy to accept right now.

“You think I could finally beat Shining after all this?” He suddenly asks after a few seconds. I snort a laugh before I can stop myself. Not because it’s a thoughtless question, but the sheer inopportune timing. I pull away and give him an amused look.

“Well, uh... Murphy's law suggests it should be possible?" I smirk. He wiggles an arm free and punches my shoulder less-than-gently, huffing a stifled laugh and shaking his head. I chuckle with him, and use my now-free hoof to ruffle the ridges on top of his head dotingly.

-

I pull a hoof back, and let it fly into the muzzle of the orange pegasus on the left less-than-gently. The momentum throws him back faster than he can react with his wings, and he topples backwards. I capitalize on the now-free space he used to occupy to rush forward into a melee with the unicorn behind him, trampling the pegasus for good measure to be sure he stays down.

Unicorns are the real threat in a fight. Pegasi can move, Earth Ponies can crush your skull, but Unicorns can move you and crush your skull, and they can do it from a hundred feet out. Now that the meat’s dealt with, I need to neutralize that horn before it eviscerates me.

“Wh- Purselace!” The unicorn colt shouts out to his partner as he hits the ground, lowering his head to point his horn towards me while it begins to glow with the same bright pink as his coat.

Thankfully, a stupid unicorn is much less threatening in a fight. He tries to mutter some incantation as I plow forward, but one backhoof to his charging and sensitive horn sends him reeling on the ground, grasping as his forehead. He’s lucky I didn’t break it, would’ve been well within my right.

“Manehattan, it’s good to be back.” I smile to myself, watching the two chumps writhe on the ground of the otherwise unoccupied alleyway. I used to sling here, back in the darker days I’d rather forget.

I stroll over to the unicorn, pressing a hoof on his shoulder to keep him from rolling around too much while I lean forward and snag the pouches attached to his neck in my teeth, yanking them free and adding them to my own bags. Never know when you might need a component pouch.

“Sorry fellas, wrong pony to try and hold up. Send Cards my regards, won’t you?” I say sarcastically, walking past them. As much as I’d love to tell the wannabe gangster his Dear Friend is back in town, I can’t afford to blow my cover with this identity so soon.

As soon as I’m out of spitting range they struggle to stand and flee. They stumble off down another street without even bothering to look back. That's just fine, nopony knows this face, or this cutie mark. Fixer does good work, even my old runners wouldn’t recognize me. My coat’s the same tan color, but my cutie mark’s been swapped for a lit candle with a rolled parchment beside it. Ambiguous enough to lie about, but sophisticated enough nopony would bat an eye at seeing me strolling through a ballroom.

My face is the weird part; I know it’s only temporary, but the feeling of my nose widening and my chin coming to more of a point is throwing me off whenever I talk, or even breathe. It’s gonna take a couple days to adjust.

My SMILE contact is a confectionary, she runs a candy store out of ponyville remotely, and sources her materials from a sugar mill at the edge of the city. It’s the first of the month, and like clockwork I see her doing business with Mr. Mills as I find my way there.

Business must be good, because she has an entire wagon stacked with piles of the stuff at her side. I also spot a substantial amount of bits on a table between them, with a few small piles being pushed and pulled back and forth in a classic display of haggling.

“-hundred and twenty bits is market rate. I’m buying twice your average bulk order; if I walked away you wouldn’t be able to sell it all even if you slashed the price.” The beige-coated earth pony mare rattles off, dragging a small pile of bits back towards her with a cocky grin.

“And ah’m tellin’ you it’s ‘unna be five flat if ya’ want the lot! Six’n off’s a might generous enough- iff’n you’re wantin’ cheap, floured-up supply, by all means now go a-knockin’ on Kellog’s door! Y’er customers’ll drop dead a’ moment they swallow, promise ya’ that.” He reaches across the table and past her hoof, scooping the pile back towards his side of the table, besides the large sack full of even more gleaming gold coins also on his side.

I slow my gallop to a trot, then a brisk canter as I approach, waiting patiently for them to seal their deal. My contact is the buyer, and she’s about to bag herself the whole pot if she pushes the offensive here.

“You’re a smart pony, Mr. Mills, you know you can’t sustain your operation without my contribution. I’m the largest non-baked-goods sweets manufacturer in the city, third in equestria. Now, I’m being more than fair at four hundred twenty. Market rate is as high as it is because I buy the bulk. Without Sweetie Drops enterprises, it’d crash to three-five by quarter’s end and you know it, other sellers notwithstanding.” She reaches back across once again and scoops up the excess pile back from the grumbling farmpony, decisively piling them up and depositing them into a much smaller personal bit pouch affixed to a set of tailored vest-pouches on her chest.

It takes a few hoof-fulls, but it gives the other party time to vent his frustration before grabbing the sizable bag of bits still in front of him and stomping off into his home, slamming the door behind him. I take the initiative and approach the mare from the side, giving a big smile and a happy wave as I do.

“Never seen a pony so upset about making four hundred before. Business been that good, huh? Not that I’m surprised, you’ve got a killer profit margin.” The mare turns around slowly, looking over me curiously. Her face has aged some since our last meeting, though she still has that sharp edge in her eyes. She’s pretty, but the pretty ones are usually the most dangerous around here.

“…Yeah, business has treated me well. Sorry, but do I know you?” She deadpans. Always to the point with her. No pleasantries unless you’re a customer, then she’s all smiles.

“Aww man, and here I thought my dashing good looks and sparkling personality were unforgettable. Callsign Two-face, agent Bon-Bon.” My flamboyant introduction drops away entirely as I reintroduce myself in an official capacity, as her informant. Her deadpan stare turns into a hard glare as she stares intently at me, searching me up and down for something nopony could hope to ever find from me; A tell.

“Dunno what you’re talkin-“

”Dinner’s postponed to the 14th at the earliest, a guildmate of Star Swirl’s was detained by Princess Luna before being killed in the Everfree. Twilight Sparkle refused to collaborate, and unrelated you’re going to have a train arriving from Las Pegasus in no more than two days with a fireworks delivery- Intercept that. You’ll thank me when you do.” I put the plastic smile back on my face. It feels ill-fitted, like it’s sitting on a layer of shifting and malformed flesh. It’s not my smile. But then again, that’s the point.

“Huh. Never thought your codename would be so… Literal.” She finally relents, giving me one last look-over. She pulls out a notepad and records what I assume will be everything I just said to bring back to SMILE HQ, which in turn will be relayed directly to Celestia within the day.

“Looks can be deceiving, and I need to do a lot of deceiving.” I shrug, circling over to her other side and glancing over the cart idly. It’s a lot of sugar packed into thick sacks of hemp and flax, with a sleeping bag and some travel rations tucked into the front corner.

“Yeah, we all remember the stunt you pulled last year. Deceived the wrong side, jackass.” She mutters, lifting the bit pouch off her neck and tossing it in the cart with her other personal affects. We move to the front and she goes to duck beneath the harness. I lay a hoof on her back and tap twice to get her attention, nodding for her to move aside.

“We caught the guy, that’s the part that matters. If I hadn’t fibbed a little, he’d still be bagging fillies and shipping them across the border. So what if a few of his kingpins wound up missing? Lesser evils.” I walk to the other side of the harness and duck down myself, poking my head and upper half through. It’s fit for a mare, but I’m able to squeeze in.

“You killed three potential informants and burned an entire warehouse of contraband to the ground.” She deadpans again with a scoff, watching with a raised eyebrow as I finesse the harness.

“True though that may be- ah! oof- gotta admit I get results! And the methods don’t matter as long as you get her there, right bonnie?” I give her another, more suggestive grin, but she’s not biting this time. I let the harness dangle so I can look at her more directly. “What, you’re not still mad about the dress, are you? Hey, I’m sorry, that was my bad. I found an amazing boutique on my last stakeout, I’ll introduce you to the seamstress and-“

“I got a marefriend, Friend.” She interrupts me, closing her eyes and sucking in a huge breath through her nose, holding it for a few seconds before huffing it out in one quick burst. “In Ponyville. Not saying any more than that, I’m sure you know why.”

I blink while that registers in my head. It clicks immediately what she’s saying, but the thought of Sweetie Drops of all ponies getting a special somepony is one of the most unreal, unbelievable, fantastical improbablities I’ve ever heard. And a marefriend at that!

“Wow. I mean, I’ve had some ponies tell me I swayed them before, first time a mare hated my guts so much she went to play for the other team though.” I say flatly, but there’s a smile behind it. A more genuine one this time, though I’m sure it’s hard for her to tell. “No but really, congrats. Surprised you finally found a Clyde that can keep up with you! When did she join, what department?”

She bites her lips from the inside, taking another deep breath and closing her eyes again. Not a good sign.

“She’s a civilian.” I guess with a much more cautionary tone. She nods, but the anxious look doesn’t fade. “…She doesn’t know.” I continue. She nods again. “…And you’re not going to tell her.” I finish. A third nod, and she physically braces as if preparing for a scolding. She’s right to expect it, it’s stupid to keep work like this a secret from a partner, and even more stupid to think she’s capable of pulling it off. But she knows that, and despite the on-and-off flings we’ve had off the record, she doesn’t owe me an explanation any more than I have the right to lecture her.

“How are you gonna keep this from HQ?” I ask instead, reassuring her that despite the absurdity of her game plan, I’m not going to disparage her for it.

“I’m going to quit.” She shrugs. “I’ve got my business now, and I have a full life waiting for me in Ponyville if I want it. It’s a reason to get out if the city like I’ve always wanted, permanently.”

I feel my jaw go slack as she talks about a better life, pursuing her dreams and making the most of her success as if it’s the easiest decision she’s ever made.

“But you’re one of the best, you’ve always loved the work you do as an agent!” I sputter, unable to hide my surprise at such a sudden upheaval. She’s the type I always thought wouldn’t settle down until the day she died. I’d know if she was lying, despite what she likes to think she has plenty of tells.

“Yeah, well, I love her more than I love the agency.” She shrugs again, looking forward at nothing in particular.

I try to think of how to broach a response like that, but her resolve has always been unshakable. When she’s decided something, that’s the way it is; Heavens and Celestia themselves be damned if they try to change her mind.

“What about Goldie?” She asks, still staring down the road. “She’s… Well, she’s an unlikeable know-it-all asshole, but she’s your kind of asshole.”

I feel a hard lump in my throat leap up from my chest, and a foreign feeling bolts down my spine as she mentions Goldfish. They didn’t meet often, but I introduced the two in the event that something happened to me, so Bon-Bon could fill her in on what I was doing for SMILE. I never really thought she’d be the one to-

“Hey, you good?” She asks, and I realize my mind was drifting mid conversation. That’s worrying, I never get distracted when I’m talking to somepony. Ever.

“Yeah! Just thinking about all this relationship stuff, you know, it’s not much my speed to settle down. Still young, gotta live while I can, you know?” I grin back at her. It eases the edge of concern in her face, and a couple seconds later she rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

“Oh yeah, sure, just tell yourself that over and over until you die alone.“ She retorts harshly. Yep, crisis averted, normal Bonnie’s back. “C’mon, if you’re still offering to haul then saddle up, first delivery’s on Potting and Eighth.”

I nod and tighten the clasps over and under my barrel, taking a step forward and feeling the weight of the cart pulling back on me in response, begging to remain stationary. Pretty sure that’s a rule of physics she taught me once.

“Hey.” Bon-Bon pipes up, more quietly than usual. I look over at her, ready to go but curious at the rare soft tone she’s using. “Really. She adores you. Don’t be stupid forever, she’ll wait as long as you make her.”

There’s the feeling again, rising up and trying to shake me. I feel my chest getting ever so slightly tighter, and I need to manually control my breathing to make it look like I’m the typical confident pony she knows me as.

“…Yeah. I’ll talk to her when I see her again.” I say flatly, uncharacteristically cutting off the conversation there. I look forward and start pulling the cart, but I can feel her eyes lingering on the back of my neck as I move past her.

The delivery route to her storehouses and storefront takes about fourty minutes, and it’s done in complete silence.

I take back what I thought earlier. The sooner I talk to Inkwell and get the hell out of this city the better.

22 - 365,000

365,000

“From the failure whence I came, here I lay unabashed..."

Four vis’ worth of concentrated magic exploding at the tip of one’s horn is a terrifying prospect, both in destructive capability if preventative wards aren’t cast beforehand, and the unimaginable searing agony it could put a pony through. When a spell backfires, the residual mana doesn’t just equilaterally burst neatly into the air like an explosion or a fireball, burning its’ energy as fast as its’ source and medium allows; It tears, and it claws, and it forces its’ way through anything with magical capacity that isn’t already occupied.

Mana, in this way, can be thought of as a balanced system of pressure. It seeks equilibrium. All magic shares this feature, at least all observable forms of magic relying on mana as its’ fuel source. In creating a power relay to store four vis worth of mana from myself, I therefore increase the pressure of that system. Inversely, I depressurize my own wellspring, making me susceptible to backlash. Weaving a ritual this big is akin to balancing a river of mana on my nose whilst wearing high-hoof horseshoes riding a unicycle, and I’m the only dam in the room.

So when the dam breaks, all the mana tears straight through the lowest pressure system it can find: Me. Path of lease resistance, it’s a fundamental and universal law of nature.

“Moonlit stars it doesn’t get any easier…” I mumble, rubbing a hoof at my poor, tender horn that just suffered a cataclysmic level of power surging straight through it from the wrong direction. I’m lucky I have enough time between the failsafe wards and the spell’s activation point to prepare for it. Half a second at best, but it’s enough to prevent my horn from being physically mangled before I’m thrown to the floor in a singed pile.

Life one hundred. Here we go.

‘seventy-six, seventy-seven, seventy-eight.’ I stand up, forcing my face to a neutral expression and lighting my horn. My body’s still searing from the inside, but after the hundredth loop I realized my pain tolerance allows me to operate after seventy-eight seconds of recuperation. In the future I’ll likely learn a faster way, save some more time.

Seconds can count, I’ve learned. And now I’m using those seconds to harness the residual mana in the air that hasn’t dissipated, siphoning the massive cloud of chaotic energy to restore just enough of my wellspring to cast a cantrip or two. It stings like a scorpion’s kiss to the cranium, but after so many reiterations I know I can take it. I’ll need this magic, just enough to dispel the wards on the door to my chambers and to power the arcane seal on my strongbox.

Ninety-four seconds. I’m a second late.

I let the spell fade and jaunt half a step toward the door to make up the difference. There’s debris and upheaved books everywhere, obstructing the path, but I trample over them as if they don’t exist. Because frankly, in about three minutes and ten seconds, they won’t. At least from my perspective.

I’m doing something different this cycle. No stress relief shouting match with Celestia, no direct challenge to her authority (which was a foolhardy pipe dream to believe I could best an Alicorn even in the best of circumstances,) and no attempts to stack the current political climate against her- The Everfree kingdom will fall eventually, with or without my influence, bringing it about sooner is moot. I need to see what comes next. Where does she go from here, when her perfect lie all comes tumbling down? The frozen wastes to try and undo the curse, the blasted and baked plains to the west? I need information, I need to learn further out. Maybe the solution to my current problem lies not in the now, but in the future.

One minute, thirty-nine seconds.

I’m just outside of my casting chamber, and I move at a precisely-timed trot to round the first corner just as the first alarmed guard arrives to investigate, and after the flower maiden who had been slacking off in the adjacent hallway slinks off. Her seeing me sneak away results in Celestia waiting for me when I pop out of my next spell, and I can’t have that. I need total surprise for what I’m planning. This life is going to be special.

I reach my personal chambers just in the adjacent hall. With a quick dispelling incantation I power down my paralytic ward, allowing myself entrance. I don’t bother closing the door as I dart to my desk, ripping out the top right drawer and spilling its’ contents onto the ground. Out of the mess of quills ink and scrolls, a small strongbox with my cutie mark emblazoned on it lands right-side-up. I lower my horn onto it, letting a minuscule stream of my magic seep into it.

The box’s many latches and self-destructive failsafes deactivate, and I throw the lid open by hoof. Inside, strung with a silver thread, is a small gemstone carved into the shape of a crescent moon. It’s radiating with power, and as I reach my hoof down to scoop it up it nearly bakes the keratin as it comes into contact, sending a magical bolt through my body, jolting my horn to life with a spark of newly found magic.

Ten vis. That’s the power this small gem holds. Days worth of my raw potential. It’s taken a year to develop and adequately pack the magical battery with as much power as I was able to. It was meant to store twenty at minimum, but I never got the chance to finish it before I stuck myself in this loop. So, ten vis and my usual capacity is what I have to work with.

I reach out and instead grab it in my telekinesis, siphoning it as quickly as I dare to restore at least the surface level of my wellspring. It takes about half a minute, but once I’m confident I can cast freely I reseal the box, piling everything back into the drawer and heaving it back into place. I pull the amulet over my head and resist the urge to yelp as it zaps my chest, trying to equalize my empty wellspring with its’ overcharged pool of mana.

The strongbox will rearm, as will the ward on my door, no need to waste time resetting them. I dart out of my quarters, closing the door behind me and expertly weaving through the castle halls, taking a very particular route and pausing at seemingly-random intervals to avoid prying eyes.

Two minutes even.

I’m in front of the throne room now, and I hide away in one of the alcoves housing an ornate set of ceremonial armor. In the next ten seconds her advisor will be here, barge into the throne room, and declare me missing. Another fifteen after that the pair of them will exit the chamber through a secret passage behind her throne and head to my casting chamber via the back halls, leaving the main chamber empty.

Ten seconds later the old pony shows up right on cue, barging past the singular guard on post.

“Princess Celestia, an explosion was heard from Magister Star Swirl’s quarter! The guard can find neither hoof nor tail of him!” He yells. There’s a brief moment of silence while the colt stands in the doorway, then he suddenly bolts into the room as she likely beacons him in before I hear the grinding of stone on stone from inside the chamber.

Two minutes, twenty-six seconds.

I step out from the alcove and charge my horn preemptively with a Melroe’s Memory Modification, rounding the corner to the main hall and approaching the lone guard. He turns his head to me and opens his mouth in surprise.

“Magist-“ I interrupt him by letting the spell loose. A thin azure line strikes the earth pony at the bridge of his nose, snaking up from the point of contact until it stretches beneath his helmet and spreads across his forehead. I feel the connection establish my will to his mind, and his eyes cross over each other as he stands thoughtless, awaiting my re-instruction.

“Magister Star Swirl is missing. You have not seen him.” I insist firmly. He doesn’t respond, he doesn’t even signal that he hears me. All part of the spell.

I cut the connection. Before his eyes have a chance to refocus, I shift my focus to a new spell, weaving it with a practiced efficacy and casting it over the clueless guard. There’s a faint blue tinge that blooms over his coat within half a second, stretching and distorting the air around him before it blinks out of existence, along with the guard.

He’ll be back in thirty seconds, just before a castle patrol rounds the corner from the west wing hall. From his perspective nothing will have happened, as if his eyes glazed over for but a moment and he zoned out in a moment of confusion. It would be easier to kill him and be done with it, though he’s done nothing wrong but pledge his allegiance to the wrong pony. On the off chance this life sticks, I don’t want to have punished an innocent pony.

Two minutes, fifty-eight seconds.

I quickly slink past the now-unguarded doorway, sealing it quickly behind me and being careful to leave no trace of myself behind. A stray strand of my mane on the floor is all it would take.

Three minutes, four seconds.

I hear the hurried steps of regal horseshoes on stone to my left as Celestia travels through the hidden tunnels between the walls, completely oblivious that I’m nary ten feet away. A part of me wants to see what happens if I catch her by surprise here, blast her through the wall- Another life. Another time.

Three minutes, six seconds.

I light my horn, weaving the same custom spell I cast on the guard on myself. The difference is that instead of the small sliver of power I used to propel him forward half a minute, I open my wellspring fully, allowing the spell to siphon at my very life force as my already-dry reserves of magic are tapped nearly instantly. The pain of my mana network being eviscerated is excruciating, but I bear it.

On top of the amulet around my neck, I draw from the ambient mana permeating the air, draining equally from the dozens of alicorn-tier spell relays overlapping the walls, ceiling, and floor of the chamber. This very spot where I’m standing, this throne room, is without a doubt the most heavily concentrated pool of processed and pre-woven spellcraft amalgamated in one location. There’s at least half a M-Vis here, maybe a tenth of that is siphon-able without raising any alarm spells.

The reason for casting my spell here is three-fold. Firstly, it acts as an additional power source for my delay spell. Even at my best, I couldn’t hope to bring myself far enough into the future without additional power.

Secondly, the anti-scrying wards placed around the chamber will mask the high-tier spellcraft and the volume of mana I’m converging on myself from other sensitive casters, and more importantly from Celestia.

Lastly… This is where she would likely return, if not Celestia’s balcony.

Three minutes, nine seconds.

“Wait for me, Lunatic.” I mutter. There’s a rare pang of something in my chest as I mutter pointlessly to myself. Something akin to sadness, or maybe remorse? I don’t have time to linger on it, I’m quickly draining all the ambient power the relays have built up over the years. I need to be careful to not draw from their live circulation, or they may destabilize and tip Celestia off that they’ve been siphoned.

The spell’s as ready as it gets. I plant my hooves firmly into the carpet beneath my hooves and look up at the two thrones sitting mockingly upon the dais. Even after years, Luna’s throne is still here. As if to torment me, to remind us all of the fate that awaits those that defy and question that witch.

Three minutes, ten seconds.

“You think you can destroy the Elements of Harmony just like that?” A voice rings out, echoing and ringing throughout the entire castle. Or, more accurately, the ruins of the castle. I’ve skipped a few dozen years before. The castle is always abandoned by then, though never so decrepit, never so neglected.

I look up at the thrones to see two large, empty seats coated with foliage and rubble. Two large tapestries I don’t recall being there hang from the ceiling, torn and ragged depictions of both the sun and moon swaying in a breeze let in through a massive hole in the ceiling and several more from missing walls.

“Well you’re wrong! Because the spirits of the Elements of Harmony are right… Here!” The voice rings out again. My ears swivel to the northeast wing, towards the old Vault. Before I have time to think about it, my hooves have left from under me and are booking it there.

Did I guess right? Is she here, is she fighting somepony? Is she in any condition to fight after escaping her imprisonment, or has she been biding her time, more powerful than ever? I round the first corner from the Throne Room. Instead of the familiar spiral staircase to the second and third floors, I’m met with a pile of boulders and roots that have made their home here.

“Dammit…!” I hiss, rearing my head and searching for another way up. There’s nothing for it, I need to use the southeastern stairwell that connects to the Royal wing, then cut north from there.

“But you still don’t have the sixth element, the spark didn’t work!”

Everything shuts down. I feel a shiver run through every muscle in my body. The dark fog that’s been blanketing everything I’ve thought for the past century of my subjectively immortal life loop falls away for the first time. There’s no suffocating feeling of hopelessness, of despair- I was right. She’s here, she’s free; A thousand years in the future, my love is free.

“-the sixth element! The element of… Magic!” The first voice rings out confidently. There’s a beaming white light that shoots out and illuminates the night in all directions from somewhere above me, and a roaring wind picks up along with it. I feel the castle itself begin to quake, and a multi-hued aurora of lights begin to spill out across the forest through the destroyed walls and windows.

“Luna! LUNA!!” I yell louder than I’ve ever yelled in my life. The scream breathes life back into my tired and aching psyche, and fills my weary body with a shot of adrenaline.

My vision returns along with my higher-functioning reasoning, and I realize that so far in the future the wards and protective seals have long since crumbled into dust. There is nothing to prevent me from teleporting directly to her; So I do.

I rip a part of my soul from my core as an offering to my horn, and it greedily consumes the energy in order to power the spell. It’s sloppy spellcraft, and the dicey power supply leaves me on top of the staircase leading into the vast room. I remember it being filled with gold and ivory, though now it’s been stripped down to bare stone.

My attention, however, is on the seven mares in the room. I see six of them with their backs to me, a radiant swirl of colors powering up, ready to strike my beloved down. Looking past them, I see her. The real her. Luna, without constraint. Fangs bared, with a wild passionate fury in her eyes as she stares down whatever massive power these mares possess. She doesn’t cower. She doesn’t run.

“LUNA!” I yell again, but it’s drowned out completely by the roaring winds. I can barely hear myself over the sound. A blinding pulse of light erupts and carries me backwards down several stairs; I try to teleport myself, to envelop myself in a kinetic field, but I’m bone dry, along with my amulet. My head throbs like someone hit me repeatedly with a hammer, and I settle backwards onto the staircase where I lay stunned for a few moments before rising unsteadily to my hooves. I see the bright white light shining above begin to fade away into the orange-red of daybreak, and I quickly scramble up to the top.

“-we were meant to rule together, little sister.” The cold, confident voice of Celestia floods the room. As I step over the threshold, I see the six mares from before on the ground, all staring across the room at her and Luna- but… That’s not Luna.

“Sister?!” “Huh?” “What’n the-” They all echo to each other, as if they’ve never heard of the Princess of the Night in their lives. I feel my coat bristle as it occurs to me why that would be the case. Typical Celestia.

“Will you accept my friendship?” The tyrant stands tall over Luna. Pressuring her, subconsciously bullying her into submission by asserting a false authority layered over a fabricated sense of familial love. I know it would be futile, but I want to blast that pretender’s grin off her-

“I’m so sorry!”

… Luna, why are you…?

“I missed you so much, big sister!” The now-cowering and tiny shadow of her former self rushes up to Celestia… And hugs her.

No. No, this isn’t Luna. Luna would never- She would never abandon herself, her pride, her ideals like this.

I feel the dark cloud in my head return, and a sinking feeling in my stomach tells me that this is no illusion. Some way, somehow, Celestia coaxed these mares into wielding the Elements of Harmony for her, that’s what that swirling energy was. She tricked these mares into dismantling Luna from the inside out, crippling her and somehow brainwashing her into submission.

“Hey! You know what this calls for?” The pink one suddenly pipes up, reaching just past my line of sight and producing… A bucking cannon? She points it right at Luna, and moves to slam her hoof down onto a strange fuseless firing mechanism. “A PAR-“

“NO!” I scream, watching her hoof in slow motion as it falls through the air. My wellspring’s still empty, my soul’s been eviscerated using it as the fuel for spells beyond my capacity, and my body’s on its’ last vestiges of strength, but I won’t let her kill Luna. I’ll give everything if I have to. I’ll kill her first.

I summon a Euthanatos spell, and I focus on the pink firing squad of one. It’s the most energy-efficient method of instantaneous death I know. When my wellspring comes up dry, and my mana network has nothing to offer, I use the most precious life energy I have left- My mind. A ponies’ brain is the most energy-consuming part of the body by a long shot. It’s not a particularly good conductor or relay of mana, but it’s dense with energy which, in a pinch, can serve as just enough to power a mid-tier spell.

The pink hoof falls through the air for another half second, but just before she makes contact with the device she stops. Everypony else in the room turns to stare at me with a wide range of emotions on their face. Five of the six mares seem confused or shocked, Celestia’s eyes are wide in something resembling fear- Oh, I wish I could relish that- and Luna’s are… Unreadable.

I try to hone in on it, trying to meet her gaze from across the vast room, but my vision crosses over itself every half-second. I feel my hooves begin to buckle under me as my body is unable to continue its’ core functions, utterly drained of not only mana, but of energy. I fall to the ground, but through the haze of my dying eyes I see a pink silhouette begin to slowly list to the side, teetering slightly back and forth, before collapsing into a heap at the base of the cannon.

“Pinkie Pie!” “Pinkie!” “What happened?” “Is she okay?” “What was that, who is that?!”

“Twilight Sparkle, take your friends and flee. Now.”

“But, pri-“

Before brain death occurs and sends me back to square one, a grin spreads across my lips. One last thought, a new development to consider. A new angle to play from.

’…Twilight Sparkle.’

-

“From the failure whence I came, here I lay unabashed..."

Let’s do that again. I’ll pop out a couple years early this time and start gathering information. With any luck, I can make it to Luna before they do next time.

Life 101.

Goal: Twilight Sparkle.

23 - My Closest Friends

MY CLOSEST FRIENDS

“You would not nourish your plants with blood, no?” Sombra asks with a bemused grin. It’s not malicious in the slightest, but nonetheless it’s infuriating. I feel his hoof on my shoulder as I try to catch my breath for yet another attempt, but I shrug it off and begin charging my horn again. “In such a way, power not your spell with mana, but your will.”

“If my subjects needed my blood I would provide it, yes.” I respond curtly, ignoring the second part he’s repeated a hundred times in an attempt to be helpful. It’s not what he’s trying to allude to, but I’m too exhausted to play my usual bout of verbal charades with him right now. We’ve been at this for over a month, and I’m barely closer to mastering Umbrum magic than I was the first day. I can summon short bursts of such will, but as quickly as it appears it dissolves into a dark wispy smoke, taking a shard of my fortitude along with it.

The hoof finds purchase on my shoulder once more, though it’s more insistent in its’ presence this time. With an annoyed huff I look up at him, and he has a look of understanding about him, with more than a little pity sneaking through.

“And if it were you who needed it, would they give the same?” He rebukes softly. I grit my teeth and close my eyes in a tempered and practiced zen, keeping my tone level despite my racing heart working hard to keep up with my repeated efforts to rewrite myself.

“If I needed my subjects to reciprocate my love I would be unfit to lead them.”

Noble, pure, selfless; Words of a martyr falling on their sword. They’re beautiful in a way, but far from true.

“Every creature needs love Sol. Even you. And rest, at that.” He sits down beside me and I see a flash of green light over my eyelids before my mind begins to swirl and swim.

“Wh- stop this, I can… keep… gnh-!” I mutter before my body falls over to its’ side uselessly. I pry my eyes open and see Sombra looking back with a kind smile, laying across from me on the ground. His eyes, however, are glowing a dull green, tendrils of black and red flowing in and out of existence between us as he takes control of my mind.

“You push yourself too hard, my beautiful princess. Strike me down in the morning if you must, but for now, rest.”

My eyes begin to close against my will, and I don’t have the will to resist the pull of sleep any more, the hours of invoking the draining power showing their toll on my spirit.

‘I’m going to kill that pony…’ I groan internally, before consciousness leaves me.

My dreams are mercifully blank. The last year I’ve been plagued with awful night terrors, subjected to any one of my many horrific encounters with Nightmare Moon before little Luna finally overcame it long enough to make it right. Reliving the torment, bolting awake to the phantom feeling of a wingblade piercing my chest, seeing that damn spell circle that took her away from me.

Umbrum magic is the only way I’ve been able to sleep since she left. It’s a twisted solution, but it is a solution.

Unfortunately not everypony in the Everfree has an Umbrum companion to ease their minds, and the rampant unchecked fear and uncertainty has begun to take its’ toll on the population. It’s my hope that I can master Umbrum magic to ease their minds in her stead. It’s not nearly as gentle, but I hope to refine it from a power of mind-bending and will-shattering control into the beautiful serenade sister wove night in and night out.

I suck in a sharp breath and my eyes dart open. Red velvety-smooth covers are draped over me, and I’m laid in the center of a large circular bed. My bed. Sombra’s nowhere to be seen, much to my disappointment. It’s a little easier to wake up when he’s there, I’ve come to find. No matter.

I force myself shakily onto my hooves and climb forward out of the bed, standing tall and stretching my neck and wings. I don’t need him in my head to practice.

I begin to summon my magic forward in a physical manifestation of my will, feeling the dark energy trying to find footing in my mind. I try to push it forward, but as hard as I try it never quite catches. It ricochets back against my wellspring and knocks me off my hooves, back to the floor like it always does.

So I get up, crack my neck, and try again.

“-Total component output: Two point five Vix. Total spell capacity, Ninety-three Vix. Accounting for acceptable variance, this spell safely remains in line below one Vis with all casting guidelines set therein by the council.” I raise my head a bit higher than usual as I end the sentence, giving a show of confidence to the pony staring back at me matching the cool mannerism. Upon closer inspection, I see her jaw lock up and her tail is whipping around behind her like she’s been caught in a lie.

I shake my head and lean against the sink, lowering my gaze from my own reflection.

’If I have to defend myself to the council, I’m going to be an absolute mess.’ I come to terms with the thought.

It’s been just shy of two weeks since Spike left to train with Captain Crescent Slash’s new trio of trainees. I wanted to see him off, and hopefully get a look at his training buddies, but that’s apparently off the table in the name of secrecy. So instead I find myself sitting alone at the library, waiting for some sort of news.

Goldfish escaped, so that’s great. How a stunted pegasus mare escapes nearly a battalion of trained stealth-oriented lunar guards with nothing but a bucket of water is beyond even my unrivaled imagination. That put a damper on my plans to ask her to help identify Star Swirl’s spell, and ever since Princ- I mean since Luna and her personal guards have been sweeping the country looking for him. Sometimes in the daylight, though primarily by surfing through pony’s dreams searching for anypony who might have seen her.

Unsurprisingly, with the massive population of Equestria versus the dedicated efforts of only one Alicorn of the Night, no leads. More surprising, however, is the fact that Princess Celestia’s divination failed when she tried to locate her. Divination and scrying spells are fickle at best when cast free-form and without some sort of biological hoofprint, but even with a feather and several hours of ritual casting, the spell once again failed.

“The pegasus Goldfish is likely deceased.”

That was the best guess Luna had, though Princess Celestia countered that she could be under a scrying ward, or even be under the effect of Star Swirl’s ’Delay’ spell. Both were valid and proven ways of thwarting her locating spells, as time had shown, though the arguments to support that she could still be alive were contingent on her having gone to see Star Swirl again. And Star Swirl was the one who tried- and succeeded- to kill her in the first place. It just wouldn’t have made sense even for a cultist, which I still maintain that Goldfish hardly seemed like a mindless thrall the label would have you presume.

So both Princesses spent the day searching in their own ways, but eventually Princess Celestia had to go back to the ‘running the country’ part of her status, leaving Luna to dreamsurf and me with time to search for an alternate means of learning how to weave this mystery spell.

After a few days of quill-to-parchment theorizing at home with my parents (Or more accurately rambling at the dinner table while they nodded politely,) I had to come back to Ponyville. Not only because I have all my casting components and pre-arranged ritual circles here, but there’s something I’ve been wanting to do since the very first day this all started, and today’s that day.

I feel my lips curl up into a smile as I stare down at the dry, unrunning sink. Today I can tell the girls all about what I’ve been going through. They’re all making time later this afternoon to come by, and Fluttershy’s been here since last night when she heard I finally came back to Ponyville.

I didn’t get much of a chance to tell anypony I was even leaving, though Pinkie filled everypony in on the fact that I supposedly “Went ‘shi-pop!’ And slammed my hoof into the cupboards, then had a daymare!” (Her spontaneous word for a nightmare while awake.)

So everypony probably thinks I’m crazy. Again. So that’s gonna be great. But beyond that, I’m just happy to see my friends again. But nopony wants to hear a story from a pony with bad breath, so I turn on the sink and get to brushing, humming a tune to myself quietly.

When I step out of the bathroom I’m surprised to find my bed empty. I don’t have a guest bed save for Spike’s, and that’s hardly pony-compatible, so I shared mine the same way Spike and I have on occasion. Fluttershy was curled up at the top end, and at some point in the night I ended up on my side at the bottom end with my head dangling over one edge, and my hind legs over the other.

There’s a light clacking from below the alcove and left, towards the kitchen, betraying where she must have headed. Curiously, I trot downstairs to investigate.

Fluttershy has her back turned to me as she tosses some lettuce into a bowl, flicking her tail back and forth in a content rhythm. She seems oblivious to my presence, so I hang back around the wall and watch her for a minute or two as she prepares the food. After a minute one of her ears twitch and her tail whips straight down as she turns to face me, then the tension ebbs back out of her form as her mind registers that it’s just me standing here.

"Oh, good morning Twilight! How'd you sleep?" She smiles back at me for a moment, then continues chopping lettuce, going back to humming.

“Alright, I got killer a crick in my neck though. Must’ve rolled the wrong way in my sleep. How about you? I didn’t know you were such a morning pony. Not that you wouldn’t be, I mean, just in the way that-“

“Oh, I’ve been awake for a while. I didn’t want you to wake up and see I wasn’t there, and then maybe you’d worry you snored too loud, or tossed around too much, or woke me up somehow, so I just stayed put.”

“That’s… Kind of you, Fluttershy, but you don’t have to worry about something like that. Spike lets me know I snore every chance he gets.” I start to roll my eyes, but then I pause and hold the motion as a though occurs to me. I click my tongue and I feel my forehead crease a bit. “…I totally woke you up, didn’t I?”

She looks over and quickly shakes her head no, but I’m not buying it. I tilt my head at her and she takes a quick glance around the room before relenting the truth. "It's not your fault Twilight. Mister Bear wakes me up sometimes too, it doesn’t bother me, really.”

“So you’re saying I snore like a bear?” I snort. She gets a little flushed and quickly stammers an apology, but I interrupt her in return. “I’m joking, Fluttershy. Sorry for waking you up anyway, I probably should have warned you when you asked to stay over.”

A smile spreads across her muzzle and she nods once, then goes back to chopping vegetables without another word. A few moments later she flaps her wings gently in an even hover a foot off the ground to reach the bowls on the top shelf, bringing two down to the counter as her hooves reconnect with the floor.

“Do you like carrot shavings or chunks in your salad?”

“Oh, um… Sorry, I don’t think we keep carrots in- Wait, did you pack lettuce when you came over?” I inquire, realizing there’s no way even the freshest heads would have kept for the weeks I’ve been away in Canterlot. Her head continues calmly nodding side to side to some quiet rhythm she’s humming, but her tail starts to flick back and forth excitedly.

“Oh, I just thought that maybe I could do a little shopping for you on the way over, it’s really no big deal. I thought it would give Spike a break, but since it’s just you for now I’m even happier that I did. Not to be rude, but those hay burgers aren’t the best for you, you know.”

I nod in a hesitant understanding as I circle around to a seat on the other side of the counter, but raise a brow at the level of concern only she could show for something as harmless as eating out twice a week. Well, maybe three recently. In my defense, they are great hay burgers, even if they do pack a few extra calories.

“Well yeah, but they’re so worth the marginal increase in health risks. And I’ve got seriously pressing magical research to conduct; Half the benefit of fast food’s the fast part, right?” She must hear the grin in my voice because she turns around and gives me a very disapproving look. I raise my forehooves off the counter and into the air in a metaphorical surrender and avert my eyes from the powerful stare. Eventually she relents, briefly turning back around to portion the salad into two smaller bowls and setting one in front of me. Lettuce, carrot shavings, and daffodil petals.

“Didn’t you just say I shouldn’t be eating the good stuff?” I ask, looking up at her curiously and levitating a daffodil petal in the air. Her mouth opens a bit as she looks for a response, but she pauses and takes a bite of her salad instead, thinking as she chews the single leaf of lettuce.

“I mean, daffodil isn’t the worst flower to snack on. Well, it’s not very nutritious in comparison to azalea or maybe dandelion, if you can get past the texture, and it’s certainly better than some of the more exotic ones like lavender. But,well… I remembered it was your favorite, so…” She trails off and shakes her head back and forth quickly, staring down into her bowl.

I feel my jaw lower just the slightest bit before I clamp it shut again, a warm feeling spreading in my chest as my friend shows such consideration for me.

“I don’t remember ever talking about favorite foods before. I mean, I know you’ve always been big on salad, and Angel would explain the carrot disposition… Sorry- I keep jumping into puzzle mode. It’s about all I’ve been doing the last couple weeks.” I shake the plaguing thought process out of my head and look back up to her, but she’s nowhere to be seen. “Fluttershy?”

There’s a quiet mumbling from the floor on the other side of the counter, then nothing.

“Fluttershy, why are you hiding? Did I say something?”

I hop off the seat and circle around into the kitchen proper with more than a little confusion. Sure enough, the little yellow pegasus is sitting on her haunches, face completely hidden behind her mane.

“I- I said I asked Daisy…uhm, what your… favorite was…” Her voice dies out and there’s a little whimper as if she’s afraid I’m going to be upset at her for some undivinable reason.

“Oh, well that makes sense. But… Why are you cowering on the floor?” I place my hoof on her shoulder, and she looks up at me with wide eyes.

“You’re… Not… Weirded out?” She asks, sniffling and- ‘Oh, come on, she’s crying?!’

“Uh… No? Should I be?”

“Well, it’s just that Rainbow Dash said… Well, it’s only- She thought maybe it was, uhm… ‘uncool’ to ask somepony about somepony else’s favorite food.” She raises a hoof up and wipes at her eyes with a pastern, but she keeps looking up at me expectantly.

“Why would she say that? I mean, you can always just ask me if you want, but-“

“That’s what Rainbow said, too-“ She interrupts, bringing her wings up and knocking my hoof away as she cocoons herself on my kitchen floor. I blink a few times, looking up and around the library for any indicator of this being some elaborate scheme or illusion. Just for good measure I prod at my own wellspring to make sure I’m not dreaming. There’s plenty of resistance, telling me I’m very much awake.

I take a deep breath, quietly so she doesn’t assume I’m annoyed or getting impatient, and sit down on the floor next to her, tilting my head curiously at the display.

“I really don’t get what you’re fussing about, Fluttershy. You asked somepony what flower I liked. I’m not mad or ‘weirded out,’ we’re friends. I’m sure all the girls ask about each other constantly. Come on, you’re gonna ruffle your feathers if you keep this up!” I lift a hoof to pull a wing away but stop myself just in time, remembering that touching a pegasus’ wing is a big taboo. So instead I just sit and wait patiently for her to come out of her shell. It takes several minutes before she does, and in the meantime I hover my bowl of salad from over the counter and munch on bits of it every few seconds. The daffodil really does bring a lot of flavor to it.

“You’re really not upset?” Fluttershy asks over a lowering wing, peeking through her mane with a face that’s red with embarrassment. “Like, really really not upset, you’re not just saying it?”

I tilt my head one last time, making my confusion as plain as I possibly can. “Fluttershy, I really, as in really really, am not mad, upset, ‘weirded out,’ bothered, bemused or otherwise befuddled that you asked somepony what my favorite food was.” I say in a flat but sincere tone.

Thankfully I see her wings begin to furl as she pokes her head back out.

“O-oh, okay then… If you’re sure, I’m sorry for overreacting. I just, I- Oh, shoot.” Her muzzle scrunches up and she lightly taps a forehoof against the floor. Or maybe that was her stomping. It’s hard to tell, but I’m more than happy to take progress at face value.

I stand up and help her to her hooves, and after a few minutes of awkward silence we get back to chatting about nothing in particular over breakfast. It’s a welcome change of pace. She points out the painting still toppled onto the floor, and I give it another cursory glance before picking it up in my magic and turning it around to face the wall.

“Ya’ reckon’? Shoot, an’ I’ve been all riled up ‘bout it, too.” Applejack sighs in relief, adjusting the brim of her hat idly to keep her hooves busy.

“Cheerilee never turns away students for her AP curriculum unless she thinks they really couldn’t handle it. I’m sure Apple Bloom’s more than capable of showing she’s willing to learn, even if she is a bit of a troublemaker.” I smile a bit thinking of Applejack’s younger sister. She’s bright, and just like all the crusaders very dedicated once she finds something she feels she needs to do.

“Quite so; I couldn’t imagine any of the little rascals being turned down were they to volunteer for it. I’ve suggested as much to little Sweetie Belle nay a dozen times over, alas she can’t be persuaded unless the lot of them do so together!” Rarity pipes up from a plush beanbag she blinked into existence a few minutes prior upon her arrival.

“Ooooh-kaaay, so what’s the issue?” Dash interjects from the air. She sat on the ground with the rest of us for about two whole minutes, but once Applejack and Rarity showed up she took back to flying to burn the excess energy she generates by the barrel.

“Why Dashie, come now. If Apple Bloom wishes to apply, and Sweetie Belle won’t without all three, who does that leave us with, hmm?” Rarity raises an impatient eyebrow at Rainbow as she starts flying small arial laps to keep her brain moving.

“You mean Scoots doesn’t wanna do it?” She finally realizes, hovering back down onto the ground beside Rarity. “Why wouldn’t Scootaloo wanna do it? She’s smarter than ten of those fillies combined! She’d be a hoof-in!” She leans over Rarity, displaying her passion in tandem with her volume.

“Whatever the reason-“ Rarity places a forehoof at the end of Rainbow’s snout and pushes her a few inches away, “that’s how it would seem. Perhaps you should have a chat with her some time, I’m sure she’d listen to you without question.”

“What? Why should I be the one to- Oh.” Rarity and Applejack both give her a blank stare. She rears back a bit and chews at her lip in contemplation, but a few seconds later she nods. “Yeah, alright. I’ll see if I can track her down before it gets too late, see what’s up. Probably just nerves or whatever.”

“I think that's probably for the best. I’m sure she could use a guiding wing with her parents gone. If she’s scared she won’t be able to handle it, I’d be happy to tutor her if she wants!” I chime in.

“Uh, nice of you to offer and everything, but I’m sure she’ll be alright. She’s got brains like a philosopher!” Rainbow brags on Scootaloo’s behalf.

“I don’t think philosophers have-“ I begin.

“-I said like one! Probably even bigger, like a… A mega philosopher!” She takes back to the air and punches at nothing in a shadowboxing match with herself, hyping herself up over the idea of Scootaloo being some kind of philosophical genius. I blink at the display a few times, but ultimately file it away under the ‘don’t ask questions’ sub-sect of my brain, right between Pinkie’s everythingness and maternal superpowers.

“You rang?” A voice squeaks jubilantly from behind me. I turn around to greet Pinkie, and I get blasted flat against the far wall by her party cannon for my troubles. I feel myself slowly peel free from the shelving units, and I fall a couple feet to the ground alongside a few books from the nature section. With a grunt I open my eyes just as an encyclopedia falls directly towards my face.

“Gah!” I raise my forehooves to shield my head then ignite my horn, catching the heavy book mid-air just before it collides with me. Huh, so that’s what an alpine bullfrog looks like.

“Oops! …Surprise?” Pinkie half-asks through a sea of confetti that falls down and begins coating everypony else in glittery strips of paper and balloons.

“Pinkie, what did we agree about cannons in the library?” I groan impatiently, rolling over to my stomach and climbing back to my hooves. I hover the encyclopedia back to its’ place on the shelf along with the other half-dozen books that fell, looking around at the mess. I focus on the paper streamers and glitter in my mind and summon a simple criteria-based gathering spell to my horn. A second later and it’s all piled up neatly beside her on the ground, ready to be reloaded for later use.

“To not to, but I had to use the party cannon otherwise it wouldn’t be a real, genuine Pinkie-pologize-party!” She bounces happily up next to me.

“Uh huh.” I say absently, then I hone in on what she said. “Wait, apologize for what? You didn’t do anything.”

“Nuh-uh, that’s the problem, silly! It’s a ‘sorry-you-fractured-your-hoof-because-I-spooked-you-and-forgot-to-throw-you-an-apology-party’ party! And sorry-you-fractured-your-hoof-because-I-spooked-you-and-forgot-to-throw-you-an-apology-party parties need apology glitter confetti party cannons! Duh!” Pinkie says excitedly as if it’s the most obvious line of logic in the world, bouncing in place.

“I don’t think that-“

“Oh, Pinkie Pie, you’re here now too!” Fluttershy calls down from the alcove above us, being the second pony to interrupt me in so many minutes. “I was wondering what that loud noise was. And the loud noises after that loud noise. Anywho, everypony’s here, right?”

“What are you doing up there? That’s Twilight’s room.” Rainbow questions, flying up to her level.

“Oh, well I left my brush in my overnight saddle, and I haven’t had a chance to brush my mane since we got up, so I figured I would-“

Rainbow zips up to her and places her forehooves on Fluttershy’s shoulders, leaning in close enough that the ends of their noses press together. She whispers something excitedly, and there’s a hushed discourse between the two. I see Fluttershy shake her head and smile, then motion behind her for a second or two before Dash flaps a foot or two higher and groans loudly.

I bite the inside of my lip and tap a hoof against the wooden floor to get everypony’s attention and mask my annoyance.

“Whenever everypony is ready, can we get started?” Fluttershy and Dash shoot two conflicting glances first at me then at each other. They separate and Rainbow hovers to the ground floor, while Fluttershy takes the stairs. There’s a general murmur of approval all around the room as everypony begins to congregate around the main floor, looking at me expectantly.

“Alright. Thanks for making the time to come here together, everypony. I’m not sure what Pinkie had told you all, but-“

“Mmm-mm mmh!” Pinkie apparates at my side with a zipper where her mouth should be, dangling a key on a string from her forehoof before chucking it out of sight.

“Can I finish a single sentence without being interrupted!?” I huff irritably, whirling around towards her.

Pinkie looks away bashfully, waving a hoof hastily in front of her face to ‘undo’ whatever it is she did to herself and then sits (bounces) quietly (ish) with her usual wide smile.

“Sorry, sorry… But we have a lot to talk about. There’s been some issues recently, big ones. I don’t know if it’s something the Elements can handle, but I’m hoping it might be something we can..”

I take a deep breath and begin retelling the events of the last few weeks to my closest friends.

24 - The Spike Method

THE SPIKE METHOD

Dear Princess Celestia,

Cyr's Seeing. Recursion, modified. Custom Spell.

Major runes:

Verita - Oso/Mité (Major)/Epsi(Thermal) - Vici’

t=300
p<=0.02, accounting for a redundant Epsi rune.

“Okay, now.” I nod, balancing the delicate spell on the tip of my horn. We’re on the clock now, in exactly five minutes we’ll see if my weeks of theorizing were worth anything, or if it’s going to be back to the drawing board.

Rarity nods back with more than a little uncertainty, but begins weaving a subtle everfrost spell into existence, channeling a steady stream of ice and snow particles from the air around her directly into the small singularity suspended in the air between us. If my theory is correct- Or more accurately, Spike’s theory- then with the help of two flow runes it should be as simple as not overloading the matrix to power the spell.

We’re standing about half a mile out of town in a clear glade, just northwest of Fluttershy’s cottage. She decided to accompany us on my research expedition quoting a keen interest in the temporal ramifications of Chronomancy. I’d rather as few ponies be in the blast radius as possible just in case the spell backfires, but having her a hundred feet out to help in case it does also wasn’t the worst idea, and she argued as much until I relented.

I needed another unicorn to cast Everfrost for this, sending forward the cool air in a level and steady stream to offset the heat generated as a byproduct of the other aspects of the spell.

I’m the target of the spell itself, and below me are three interweaving magic circles etched into the ground which form a perfect tri-point venn diagram with my small pocket of space at the center of all three. There’s just enough room to fit my entire body, though next time I’ll probably just use the extra enchanted chalk dust for comfort’s sake.

“So… How are things on your end, Twilight?” Rarity asks awkwardly while I stare intently down at the arcane symbols carved into the grass and dirt beneath our hooves. I’ve quadruple checked every aspect of the spell, staring as the mana pulses through the live matrix is just my natural paranoia at work, stressing myself out as if taking my eyes off it would cause it to explode in our face, just waiting for the eventual problem to ruin everything.

“Twilight, darling, are you alright?” She asks again, and I blink myself out of my hyper-focused flow state as I realize I forgot to respond.

“Uh… Yeah, yep, all great! Eeeeverything’s…” I give her a quick smile of assurance, but every second I look away is a second the universe could pull a fast one on me. I mumble something resembling words to finish the verbal exchange, and then continue to trace the runes with my eyes, making sure not an iota of mana coalesces in the wrong place.

I see her shift awkwardly from her left side to her right and back out of the corner of my eye, muttering a quiet “Alright, then. Quiet concentration it is.”

It’s been about five minutes by now, hasn’t it? I didn’t think to bring a timer. Why would I not bring a timer? Of all the boneheaded things to space on, this spell requires precise timing if I’m going to get the most out of observing it.

“So… How are things on your end, Twilight?” Rarity asks awkwardly while I stare intently down at the arcane symbols carved into the grass and dirt beneath our hooves. I’ve quadruple checked every aspect of the spell, staring as the mana pulses through the live matrix is just my natural paranoia-

Wow. Dèjá vu.

“Twilight, darling, are you alright?” She asks again, and I blink myself out of my hyper-focused flow state as I realize I forgot to respond.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I think so?” I say, giving her a quick smile of reassurance that only comes across as nervous. My heart thumps in my chest as the feeling returns, and I’m starting to get the feeling it’s been much longer than five minutes by this point. It can’t have been though, rarity is still feeding the spell with cold air which hasn’t been consumed in exchange for the spell’s function yet.

“Well, as long as you’re sure.” She responds, and I can feel her eyes piercing into me as I lose myself in thought again, going back to watching the runes.

It’s definitely been more than five minutes. I’m starting to get nervous about continuing this test, I feel like time dilation could be a very unintended consequence of my experiment here. What if every second I spend channeling here, the slower time will pass for me in relation to myself? Would I age normally, or would my body decay at a much more rapid rate as it’s experiencing its’ growth and decay detached from the normal passage of time, temporally disentangled from the timeline?

“So… How are things on your end, Twilight?” Rarity asks awkwardly while I stare intently down at the arcane symbols carved into the grass and okay what the bu-

“Twilight, darling, are you al-“

“STOP!” I yell out, rearing onto my hind hooves and gathering a blast of unshaped magic to my horn, letting it loose in a wide area around me to quickly disperse the sigils and runic circles containing the spell.

Rarity hops backwards as I yell, immediately cutting off the flow of frost to the anomaly. The magical energy dissipates, leaving behind a small pile of stones and soil where the glyphs were etched. She looks over at me, confused.

“Why ever would we stop? We were nearly finished!” She whines, but then sees how upset I am and cuts her complaint short. I look up from the drained matrix and just stare at her for a few seconds, lost in contemplative thought. “Twilight?”

“How long do you thi- I mean… How long were we casting this spell for?” I ask, turning around and facing away from her so she can’t see my face.

“Wh- Well, I couldn’t say for sure, though I had figured we were nearly finished when you yelled out like that.” She responds nervously, almost cautiously. “Why do you ask? Did something go wrong?”

“No, I-“ I stutter for a second, considering if that’s a lie or not.

‘Why am I considering hiding this? They know about everything already! I chide myself, followed quickly by ’Stupid secrecy tendencies.

“Maybe. But first, did you repeat yourself? At any point while we were casting this.” I turn back around, trying my best to keep a neutral expression so she doesn’t feel pressured into a specific answer. I must be failing, because instead of answering she stares at me with concern.

“I- well, I don’t quite remember, uh… Perhaps I might have-?”

“Uhm, don’t think she did, Twilight.” Fluttershy’s voice rings out from beside me. I jump a solid foot in the air and my tail whips itself as I whirl to face her. The sudden movement startles her and she, too, jumps with a surprised ‘Eep!’

“Sorry, Twilight, I didn't mean to startle you...” She apologizes, backpedaling towards where she was standing earlier.

“No- no, you’re fine, I just didn’t hear you come up is all. Anyways, what were you saying?” With my heart rate settling back into something resembling normal, I tilt my head and wait for her to repeat herself.

“I was, uhm… Just saying how Rarity just asked you how it was going, and then if you were alright when you didn’t say anything. She did ask them separately though, so maybe you could say she repeated herself by asking how something was doing, but technically one was you and one was the spell, so I wouldn’t really say that’s repeating yourself personally. Not really, anyway.” I keep looking at her as she recounts what she remembers, but she tilts her head in response. “Sorry, was I rambling? I’ll stop.”

“No, not at all! As a matter of fact…” I feel a big grin coming on, and I can’t think of a single reason to hold it back. “I think we might have a breakthrough!” I rush forward with a laugh, embracing her in the biggest hug I can manage. I don't have a proper theory on how it works, or proof that it even did anything yet, but I don’t care! I experienced temporal recursion, perceived or not there’s no way it was coincidental!

“Pardon, but… A breakthrough in what? We were meant to channel that spell for five minutes, were we not? What did we achieve, precisely- Oh, alright then-!” Rarity canters up beside us with a curious and confused tilt of her head. So I pull her in too, to make it one big, science-y, progress-driven group hug!

“I experienced a localized temporal phenomenon!” I announce to the both of them, much more loudly than I meant to, and right into their ears. They yelp slightly and jump away, startled by the sudden loudness.

“That’s great, Twilight!“ Fluttershy beams back at me, catching my infectious smile for a second, but it’s quickly overridden by some deep thought, then by confusion, and thought again before she follows up with “…I think?”

“What do you mean? It worked! Oh, I can’t believe for the first time something just worked! No explosions, no unexpected circumstances, no Discord chaos magic, just magic and science operating exactly as intended!” I continue beaming unbridled joy into the open air, rocking from side to side and ignoring the uncomfortable pressure my cheeks are under from my massive, unnaturally wide smile.

As soon as I vocalize it the skeptic in my rears its’ ugly head to take the edge off my celebration, reminding my that any of those things could still absolutely happen. I pull myself fully away from the girls and look down at the ruined spell matrix, disheveled glyphs and dirt mixing together beneath my hooves.

“Maaaaybe we should clean this up before the universe proves me wrong,” I consider out loud. The other two give each other a confused look, but then shrug and nod their agreement back to me.

“So, in laypony’s terms, I experienced dèjá vu.“ I explain as we all begin to carve the magical essence and dust out of the ground, churning the earth up and over itself to scatter the spell’s remnants into unrecognizability.

“Oh, I simply hate that feeling. Gives me the heebie jeebies.” Rarity comments with a small shiver.

“What does that mean though? Couldn’t that just be a coincidence?” Fluttershy asks. It’s a genuine question, and she’s absolutely right.

“Good assertion! Correct, without a repeat with a control group or some other tangible methodology for proving my hypothesis, we have to operate under the assumption it could have just been a one-off coincidence. However,” I continue, standing up fully and beginning to pace in a wide circle around the both of them while I elaborate, “I experienced it not once, but twice. While it’s still possible my head’s not quite on right, I haven’t experienced any similar phenomenon since Princess Luna put me back together again, so I’m fairly confident this could be the real deal.”

Flutterhsy looks at her hoof awkwardly, and even Rarity seems unsure how to respond.

“That’s a good thing.” I deadpan.

“Oh, that’s good.” Fluttershy sighs, and rarity chuckles quietly beside her.

“Ah. Well, you could have just said that to begin with darling!”

I shake my head, a fond grin spreading across my muzzle. It’s been a while since I had company in my experiments, having somepony to share my enthusiasm for my discoveries with really does make a world of difference. It’s times like this I have to stop to appreciate how great my friends really are.

“Let’s get this dismantled for now, then I have an idea for the perfect pony to use as our control group.”

“…Pinkie Pie.” Rainbow deadpans, looking at Fluttershy and Rarity at my side who just shrug, looking back to me.

“Yes, Pinkie Pie.” I respond. Rainbow gives me a weird look, as if she’s not quite sure I’m in my right mind.

“Yeeeah, I don’t get it.”

“Listen, Pinkie is practically incapable of mundane thought, right?” I begin. She tilts her head a bit. Right, no ‘egghead words.’ “She has an active imagination.” I reword the idea, and that seems to track with her. Before she can interrupt me though, I continue.

“Sooo, that means she’ll constantly be thinking, saying, or doing unique things the whole time. If we can observe her utilizing information from a localized temporal anomaly- Uh, how do I say that without… Well, anyways, the experiment is that if she can tell me what I’m going to tell her before I tell her, it’s proof that we have something solid!”

Rainbow still seems lost, but eventually she just shakes her head, probably resolving to not bother trying to understand.

“Yeah, that’s, uh… That’s great, Twilight! Real happy your, uh… your snowglobe locals aren’t flummoxing in the thingamawhatsit or whatever.”

“Did you just call a chronomantic anomaly a thingamawhats-“

“ANYWAYS I’ll go find her be right back bye!” And she’s gone, kicking up a tuft of dust in her wake as she darts off towards Sugarcube Corner to track down Pinkie for attempt two.

“I really wish Spike were here, I would love to update the Princess on this.” I complain, scuffing at the road with an idle hoof as I turn around and head back towards the library to restock on equipment and spell components. The other two fall in line beside me as we start moving again.

“He’s really going to be a lunar guard, then? As in, a real lunar guard?” Rarity asks, thinking back to earlier today when I filled them on on everything.

“Not like there’s such a thing as a fake lunar guard.” I huff in response, still a bit frustrated about it. “Sorry, sorry, that was rude. I’m still just trying to work through the idea, honestly. It’s not like it’s an awful role to have, there’s prestige being a royal guard for either of the Princesses and he’ll learn how to stand up for himself, but…”

“But he’s still your little dragon?” Fluttershy offers.

“I- Well maybe a but of that, but I think I’ve been pretty good about not being too overbearing.” Rarity coughs to my left, interrupting the thought. I see fluttershy give her a look for some reason, but I continue. “It’s more along the lines of, how do I say this objectively? It’s like… He could do anything in Equestria, right? He’s smart, he’s witty, he’s also a dragon, so why would he waste that potential being a guard? I just don’t understand why he’d settle for that.”

Rarity looks thoughtful for a moment before answering.

“Well, if he wants to become one of the royal guards, that’s his decision, isn’t it? You could rightly be a princess yourself with how often you’ve saved Equestria, but you’ve been quite content with your library here in backwater Ponyville. Don’t you think your parents perhaps thought much the same?“

“That’s-“ I’m about to say ‘that’s different,’ but I stop myself. Both mentally and physically, hooves grinding to a halt as I let the idea bounce around in my head. There’s a logical conflict here: We’re both right. Spike could do anything he set his heart to, anypony would agree that’s a logical assertion. But Rarity’s right in that I need to respect his decision even if I don’t entirely agree with it. I bite at the inside of my lip at the idea of facing the realization beneath it all I’m sure I’ve known all along, and decide to try again.

“You’re right. It’s not different. And I need to get over it.” I begrudgingly admit. Rarity lifts a hoof and looks as if she’s got something comforting or moving to say, but I quickly jaunt forward and lead the way to the library. “Just as soon as we get this spell working!”

The both of them give me a bit of a side-eye as I trot past them, but nonetheless follow me as I lead the way. On a whim I take a glance towards the open market as we pass the main road leading deeper into town, and I see Papers chatting up Lotus about something or other. Satisfied he’s alright, I take a glance around, looking for Applejack’s cart.

“Oh, did you need something, Twilight? Shoot, and we didn’t think to bring any bits with us.” Fluttershy asks while I stare down the road.

“Huh? Oh, no, I just forgot Applejack doesn’t post up on Saturdays. I was looking for Mr. Papers.” I explain, quickly working back up to a trot.

“Oh. Because of the newspaper issue?” She asks, moving to keep up again. I nod.

“Mmhm. I doubt he knows much, so he’s a layer detached from all this, but seeing is believing.”

’I wonder what would happen if I powered this spell with Celestia’s custom Major Rune.’

It was a simple idea that came to me while Rarity, Fluttershy and I were waiting for Rainbow to track down Pinkie for us.She found Applejack first, who then found Pinkie and dragged the both of them back to the library, reassembling the six of us once more.

‘Oh I remember the rune,’ I thought, ’I’ve powered an Alicorn-tier spell before, I can do it again!’

Man, I’m stupid sometimes.

“Oooh, me!”

“Oooh, me!”

Two Pinkie Pies. Oh Celestia what cataclysmic force of reckoning have I unleashed on this world?

The core mechanics of the spell are the same. Every component denotes their function with a Major Rune, but instead of individual metering and thermal Epsi runes, I ran a network of mana-carrying leylines across the entire matrix, all fed directly from the Solaris rune in the very center. It’s not the most graceful spellcasting conduit matrix this library’s ever seen, but it worked perfectly to deliver 2.1 Vis of raw mana across the thermally-insulated anomaly Rarity was kind enough to channel into again for take two, this time featuring Pinkie Pie, the prime pony to pick for observing abnormalities, seeing as she can’t sit still for longer than two seconds. I’d know, I measured.

And now there’s two of them. Physically manifested in the central circle mirroring each others’ movements perfectly.

“What’n tarnation’s goin’ on?”

“Twilight, kindly update me on if I should continue or is this-“

“Woah! This is SO awesome!”

“Uhm, is this part of the spell, or is Pinkie just…?”

I suck in a large breath through my nose as I remember I’m a living creature on the corporeal plane, and not just a witness to the lesser goddess of Chaos that is Pinkie, who has, once again, managed to shatter my expectations for what should have been a very simple ‘Sit-still-ish-for-five-minutes-then-answer-some-questions’ observational test.

I remember I’m also the one powering the spell, and now everypony (sans pinkie) is looking at me expectantly. Rarity is a bit unnerved, but with a glance I confirm she’s still channeling a small stream of frost into the anomaly. I let out the large breath I just took in, clearing my mind to pave the way for rational thought. This is a big development, I can’t waste this opportunity.

“Rarity, keep channeling. The plan’s the same, five minutes. Fluttershy, Rainbow, stay as far apart as you can, and keep an eye on those stopwatches. If it seems like it slows down or skips a beat, say something, it could signify a spellbreak or a temporal anomaly. Applejack, make sure both Pinkies stay inside the designated localization runes- The ones in the middle. Careful, try not to step inside of it, we don’t know if the inside of the anomaly experiences time at he same rate as outside of it yet.” I begin barcoding instructions to everypony rapid-fire, taking a quick note of my surroundings. I’m keeping a keen eye out for discoloration and dimming illumination like I experienced in the Kitchen with Pinkie a few weeks ago. Thankfully, that doesn’t seem to be happening. I finally address the Pinkies, who are blowing raspberries at each other.

“Pinkie!”

“Yeah-huh!”

“Yeah-huh!”

“Can you see color normally? Does it look like lights are turning off? Is there any burning or irritation on your skin?” I rattle off the prominent effects of whatever time-stoppage spell I cast as they come to me. This spell clearly isn’t stopping time, but I need as much data as I can get.

“Yeppers! No ma’am! Actually I’ve been meaning to ask you about that, I get a funny itch on my left thigh whenever I laugh and I laugh a LOT so it happens lots since-“

“Yeppers! No ma’am! Actually I’ve been meaning to ask you about that, I get a funny itch on my left shoulder whenever I laugh and I laugh a LOT so it happens lots since-“

“WAIT!” I shout, interrupting the both of them. Everypony looks up at me again, and rarity gives me a confused look and tilts her head, her magic flittering as if indecisive if it should perpetuate. “No, no, keep going Rarity!” I reassure her. She nods, but shakes her head to and fro viciously with a few wide-eyed blinks as if trying to disbelieve the situation entirely.

“Pinkie- Pinkies- You just-“

“Yes Twilight, I come from the future, oooohh~! No idea! I remembered, and you told me to!” The Pinkie on the right interrupts me, bouncing even harder than usual as she rattles off what I can only assume are responses to questions I haven’t asked.

“How did you-“ ‘’I come from the future.’ That’s how she did that? She knew I was going to ask? Then that means…’ I shake my head too, and get back to questioning.

“Future Pinkie, how did you manifest in the spell? There’s no displacement or projection divination runes, and without illusion magic that means you’re real. And if you’re real…” I trail off. ’No idea!’ Was an answer too, she doesn’t know how she projected herself here, which makes sense, she’s an earth pony. She wouldn’t understand any of this.’

Future Pinkie and Not(?) Future Pinkie turn back to each other and start playing paddy-cake together while I stew on my thoughts.

‘‘She told me to’ was the last thing she said. What would I ask next that would make her say that? Does knowing what she says influence what I ask? Am I supposed to play into it, or is this a paradox unfolding in realtime?’

My head’s in overdrive trying to account for the unknowns and variables. I can’t think of what I could say next that could possibly prompt her to refer to somepony else in a way that would make sense!

“Uhm, Pinkies, not to be intrusive or anything, and maybe I’m being a teensie bit rude or implying it when I say this, so I’m sorry if I offend you, but why are you counting upside-down?” Fluttershy asks. Oh. Oh, Celestia bless you Fluttershy that confirms it!

“Future Pinkie!” I call out, snapping my head back to attention and taking in a deep breath. I can’t tell which one is Future Pinkie at this point, so I’m just hoping either of them will cooperate right now.

“Hey, that’s me!” One of them chimes. Okay, one on the right is future pinkie. I shift a bit and address current-pinkie, who’s currently chewing her own tail. Not her double’s tail, the one attached to her own flank.

“Pinkie, when this spell ends in a minute you’re going to be sent back in time. I need you to do everything that future-you just did, okay? Bit for bit, say and do everything just like how she did!”

“Ooh, like a game of copypony! I LOVE copypony! It means I get to be somepony else entirely! But what if that pony’s me, does being myself still make me a copypony?”

“No, silly, even when you pretend you’re somepony else you’re still yourself, even if you’re yourself pretending to be a copypony who’s pretending to be their self who’s really yourself! I would know, I’m me!”

“Ooh, you’re good. Hey, remember when Twilight started this super fun spell, and then you appeared, and then I was there, and we both saw each other and went-“

“Oooh, me! Yeah, that was so funny- hey, where’d I go?” Future-pinkie complains as current pinkie blinks out of existence right in front of everypony.

I look to my left and Rarity’s struggling to keep up the stream of frost magic, but before I can give her any encouraging words Rainbow zooms up on my right and practically shoves her stopwatch in my face.

“Five minutes, Twi! Now are you gonna explain what in the bu-Woah!”

“‘Scusin’ her,” Applejack interjects, biting down on rainbow’s tail and yanking her onto the floor, leaning hard on top of her barrel to keep her down. “Reckon you’ve got some mighty fine reason why’n there were two Pinkie Pies sittin’ in y’er do-thing’a-ma-whatzit?” Rainbow kicks and tries to flare her wings, but even with a light leverage AJ’s got her pinned.

“I do, actually. Throughput.” I grin, darting over to the lectern holding the notekeeping book Princess Celestia gave me back in Canterlot, and quickly recording absolutely everything I can while it’s still fresh in my mind. “Actually, one second-“

There’s a low hum from the base of my horn as I gather some of my magic for a low-power memory reinforcement cantrip, committing the entire event to memory. Best case, I can relive this entire ordeal later. Worst case, Princess Luna will know where to look for this one when I go to fill her in on the progress so far.

“Put whom through what, darling? And please, if you would be so kind, do be a dear and lend a hoof, would you? I’m afraid I’ve developed a positively horrid hornache.” Rarity takes a step back from the collapsed anomaly, and Pinkie happily hops out of its’ boundary as if absolutely unfazed by the entire ordeal. Which, knowing Pinkie, she's probably already over the novelty of time traveling.

“Oh, sure- sorry, let me just… Finish the recursion matrix, aaaand… There!” I let the quill fall out of my magical grasp and spin on my hooves, repurposing the mana still dancing on my horn to cast a low-grade Aville’s Cure-All on Rarity, who’s tenderly pawing at the tip of her horn. Almost immediately she visibly relaxes and gives a content sigh, closing her eyes and smiling.

“As for that, there weren’t two Pinkie Pies.” I address Applejack, who’s still leaning more casually on Rainbow, who in turn seems to have given up the struggle and accepted her fate of being pinned beneath the farm pony.

“Beggin’ y’er pardon?” She shoots back, raising a brow and giving me a very particular head tilt.

“Oh, I could have sworn I saw two Pinkie Pies though! Unless maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me again…” Fluttershy joins the sortie, and now all six of us are formed up in a loose circle.

“You saw two, but there was only one. The proof is in the pudding!” I declare triumphantly, raising a hoof and pointing at Pinkie, who then also raises a hoof and points to herself in a serious manner, imitating me. Then she blinks, and the mannerism drops.

“Wait, I’m not Pudding, I’m Pinkie! Ooh, or am I? I’m good, I didn’t know I was that good, though!“

“Calm it down some, sugarcube, let her say her piece.” Applejack interrupts Pinkie for me. I hadn’t even noticed that I was already beginning to tap my hoof, eager to explain. I nod her my appreciation and begin to pace in a small circle, bringing forth my best lecturing voice.

“The first iteration of this spell had a throughput of just over ninety Vix. It was more than enough for me to send my thoughts back in time even without noticing it. I thought it was just dèjà vu, but it was too coincidental to happen in the way that it did, and right in the middle of a time spell. This Solaris rune, here,” I tap the large marking of Princess Celestia's custom Major rune overlaying the other major runes in the center, connecting them all in a much less elegant string of chalk like the rushed addendum it was.

“Thanks to this, the throughput was well over two Vis. It’s why Rarity couldn’t keep up, but it’s why Pinkie Pie appeared in the casting zone. Before you ask, no-“ I stop Rainbow before she can insist that I just admitted there was a second Pinkie Pie, “-There aren’t two Pinkie Pies. The one here with us now is Future Pinkie Pie, now turned present-Pinkie Pie, now that I think about it. Old-present Pinkie Pie is still in the middle of the spell, doing everything old-Future Pinkie Pie did when we saw her then!” I conclude, coming to a full stop and making a grand, sweeping hoof motion to signal the end of my explanation. My wide smile isn’t reciprocated, unfortunately.

“Oh, well, uhm… That’s great, Twilight! I… I think?” Fluttershy raises her head a bit, but AJ shakes her head, still just as lost.

“Yeah, no, ah’m pretty sure I seen two Pinkie Pies at the same time, present-future-pie whatever nonesensicals aside. I don’t follow.”

What’s a way I can simplify traversing backwards in the fourth dimension, in a way Applejack would understand? Something simple, without too many words. This is something Spike would probably be great at, but without him here I’m forced to just try again, but with simpler terms.

“So, it’s like this; Because the- I mean, I used a LOT of magic to power that spell, right?”

“Yea-huh.” She nods.

“So because I used so much mana, the target of the anomaly- Pinkie- I mean the spell- Pinkie being the target, not the anomaly- Ugh, alright let me think.” I look back down at the floor and start pacing again, thinking of a better way to phrase it as I can already tell I’m losing her.

“I’ll go, uh, make us some snacks, if that’s okay…” Fluttershy offers. I don’t really hear it, but I must have muttered some affirmation absentmindedly because she turns and steps up the stairs back to the main floor, Pinkie in tow.

“Can you like, chill with the pacing? You’re freakin’ me out, Twi.” Rainbow hovers above me, but I tune it out, trying to keep my thought process moving.

“Yeah, sure, okay.” I mumble, continuing another lap. She groans and moves somewhere else, but out of the corner of my eye on another pass around I see her land next to AJ while they mutter to each other. Quietly, which I appreciate.

I get an idea.

“Here, it’s like this!” I proclaim, grabbing a sheet of spare graph paper in my magic, with a quill in the other. Rarity, Applejack, and Dash all step forward and look over it as I start to draw a line with varying levels of interest.

“So, imagine this sheet is time. Left is the past, right is the future. Further in either direction, the longer ago it was or will be. So here,” I draw an X on the left end of the line, and I give them all a few seconds to digest the theoretical before continuing, “is the past. Five minutes ago. The other side is the future. The middle is right now. So, right here at the start is when we cast the spell, and that’s when Future Pinkie Pie appeared.”

“That’s what ah said, innit?” Applejack retorts, confused.

“Not quite, because it was still the same pinkie. Bear with me for a second!”

In the middle I draw another X, labeling it “End of Spell.” Then, i draw another line below the first starting from the first X, when the spell began.

“When the spell finishes, it sends Pinkie back in time. That means that when it starts, even though this Pinkie, Past Pinkie,” I tap the uninterrupted top line for emphasis, “is already here, the one from the future must be here too. So even though you see two different Pinkies, it’s really the same Pinkie, just five minutes older.”

“But if you- hold on just an apple pickin’ minute, if there’s two Pinkies- Or one, two of- The SAME pinkie twice- why ain’t there two of ‘em right now? If she gets sent back when the spell ends, why ain’t there a million of her bouncin’ around?”

“You answered your own question! It’s because she gets sent back in the first place!”

She stares blankly forward, and I’m not sure how else I could possibly explain it.

“Okay, so like, when the spell starts, we get a Pinkie, and when it ends we lose one? So it kinda… Evens out?” Rainbow asks, tentatively poking at the idea. There’s a lot of nuance that it misses, but before I can elaborate on it I hear the other two mutter in some sort of epiphany.

“Oh, now that does make a bit more sense.”

“Reckon’ that’s how them fancy numbers work, one an’ one then ya’ take one away, still got one.”

“I guess if it makes more sense to think of it that way it’s not wrong, it misses some finer points, or all of the finer points, but conceptually that’s about it, yeah.” I give them all a brief nod, especially at Rainbow. “I thought you’d be the most confused by this sort of thing. You know, advanced magical theory and all that.” I let a grin slip through the half-compliment.

“Hey, just because I’m not an egghead like you doesn’t mean I’m stupid! Besides, issue 17 of Daring Do is all about this kind of crazy stuff. It’s all they talked about at the fan meets for like two months!” She groans, dragging her hooves across her face and pulling her cheeks down dramatically.

“Well, what do you suggest we do now, darling? Your spell was a success, is that all then? Perhaps we try again tomorrow?” Rarity suggests, stifling a yawn. It’s not too late, but she’s expended a lot more mana than she’s used to. It’ll be taxing on her body to recharge, so I definitely don’t want to ask her for any more today. Doubly so with her under minor sedation, her concentration would suffer.

“I’m going to write a letter and send it to the Princess, then maybe work out a few kinks in this matrix. It hurts just to look at how unorganized it all is.” I motion to the criss-crossing spell component boundaries, guesswork barrier width thickness, and the Solaris Major Rune that might as well just have been slapped on top of it all as an afterthought. “You girls go on ahead upstairs, I’ll be up in a second.”

“If you’re sure, sugarcube.”

“Cool, meet you up top!”

The three of them mutter affirmatives and travel up the staircase together, making idle chatter about their simplified version of what just happened.

I stay behind and stare at the haphazard mess of a spell. It’s messy, it’s unorthodox, I’m using the wrong style of magic without harmonizing to Princess Celestia first, but despite it all it works.

I’m proud of myself, and the idea that I really am one of the first unicorns in likely centuries to clobber together a new spell nopony (including the princess) has seen before is a massive ego boost. The joyfuzz in my chest is toned down a bit without Spike or the Princess here to really revel in it with though. Hopefully I can give the Princess a demonstration in person soon, share the potential and get her help tweaking it. It won’t be the same as the first discovery, but hopefully it’ll be more fulfilling talking with a pony who really gets exactly what this means.

My stomach grumbles, and I take the cue to start heading up after my friends. Actually, I could totally go for a hay burger after a major scientific discovery like that. I mean, I deserve it, right? Fluttershy doesn’t have to know.

With a grin I charge my horn and in a flash I’m outside the library. Before anypony can catch a glimpse of me through a window I break into an open gallop, smirking as the wind blows past me. I’ll be back before they even realize I teleported if there’s no line.

Extra hay fries today. Definitely extra hay fries.

25 - Preening 101

PREENING 101

“-and if I have to watch Feather Bangs dance his hooves through another pop ballad in the street over Sugar Belle, I’m gonna put him on his flank myself.” Night Glider groans, peeking left and right over her shoulders as she speaks conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anypony I said that.”

I nod and flash a brief but shallow smile. We’re in the open and bare living room of my newly-erected cottage, number 13. Some cultures associate the number with bad luck, or some form of ill omen, but there’s no reason to believe a number could be responsible for ‘bad luck.’ It’s just a cottage; An odd-numbered one, the newest and furthest down the line on the north side.

Night Glider’s one of the few pegasus mares in the village, and she volunteered to help show me around town and took me into her cottage for a few days while everypony was helping build my place. She’s the spunky type, like a lot of pegasi, but it’s a dull edge placated behind what I can only assume are years of conformity. She’s got a bluish-gray coat, and a jet-white mane with gray streaks that looks like it struggles being tied up. She made it less-than-subtly clear she misses her old habits in the few days we’ve bunked together, even went so far as to show me a little trinket from her old life, some wonderbolt memorabilia pin.

We get along alright, and right now we’re both staring at the empty cottage, just waiting to be filled with the standard decor of every other cottage; Three flower pots, cloak and ribbon stand, nightstand, towel holder, and other miscellanea. There’s a plain bed in the solitary bedroom, and a small table in the corner of the living room. There’s no kitchen or dining area, since everypony eats all three meals at a designated mess hall at the front of the road.

The only decoration that’s been put up so far is a framed picture resembling the symbol of equality emblazoned on both our flanks, and it’s tilted. Just barely, but it’s enough to get my brain ticking in all the wrong ways.

“Goldfish, something wrong?”

“No. The frame’s just crooked, stole my attention. Sorry.” She looks away from me as I look back to her, then I follow her gaze back to the picture as a few seconds of tentative silence pass between us.

“It’s okay to miss it. Not to say you do, or that you will, but… Some of these ponies who’re gonna go unnamed do alright following Starlight’s code and still keeping that old part of themselves in the back of their head.” She nods at the picture before looking away again, a brief hint of sadness slipping from her face like rain off a hydrophobic polymer. “Most of us are as happy as you get without all that, though! The chance to really leave it all behind, start new, like whatever happened in your old life’s just a bad dream… Lots of ponies could do with that, so we’ve got to be thankful to Starlight for bringing us all together. Even Feather Bangs.”

She glances sidelong at me and grins, but the humor isn't quite as convincing this time around. There’s a certain tension in her voice, indicative of… Some sort of emotional response. I’ve read behavioral studies on what that sort of deference is reflective of, but ever since my Cutie Mark was sealed away I’ve been having a much harder time recalling much of anything. Names, places, historical events, the periodic table- All of it’s just out of reach at the outer perimeter of my mind. I feel awful having to ask ponies their name two, even three times before it sticks. It’s a problem I’ve never had to deal with until now.

Not to say I didn’t ask for it.

‘If you’d like, you’re more than welcome to give Our Town’s ways a try! We’re always happy to accept a new friend into our midst, no strings attached.’ Starlight’s voice rises up in my mind, replaying our last encounter over a week ago before my indoctrination.

‘There’s another pony, a dear friend of mine. He’ll come looking for me if he knows I’m- If he can. What if he finds this place?’

‘Well, that would just be amazing if he did! I won’t pry on your past, but if you two had your differences before, I’m certain there’s no better place than Our Town to put them aside!’

Ten days, a musical number, and an entire town full of ponies building me my very own cottage later, here I am.

“Think I’ll be happier without it.” I admit to the both of us. She gives me a knowing look for a couple seconds, but pursuing that line of thinking is frowned upon here. So is talking about old Cutie Marks. And honestly, I don’t mind that.

“I left you a spare brush of mine in the bathroom. We don’t have any good preening supplies floating around though, so you’ll have to wait for Woodgrain to get around to fabricating some. He’s had his hooves busy making repairs lately, so it could be a week or two until you have all your own non-essentials.” Glider circles around to my other side, giving the empty room a cursory glance for the eighth time.

“Yeah, it’s all good. Been without for longer. Thanks for the help, I think I’m gonna take a break, maybe get a nap in. My hooves are killing me after the last week.” I stretch out one hind leg behind me, then the other as I stretch out my wings and ruffle the feathers. True to my word, they send signals of abuse and overwork in the form of dulled pain back to my brain. I wince inwardly, but I don’t let it show on my face.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll leave you to it then!” She smiles again with that slight edge of hesitation.

‘Do I care enough to ask?’ I think to myself as I close my eyes during the stretch, pretending I didn’t notice. ‘Do I care enough to let her ask?’

I tuck my wings back in and stand back at full height, and she’s still looking at me with a politely-disguised curiosity. ‘Dammit.’

“Got a question?” I turn and prompt her, indulging whatever it is that’s got her attention despite my better judgement. She’s been nice to me, only fair I’m polite to her.

She hesitates once more, like she wants to say something, but isn't sure what or how.

“The cutie mark? Symbolized my memory. Probably why I forget things now that it’s go-“

“No!” She interrupts me rather loudly. I blink several times in surprise, and she stands for a second with her mouth hanging open trying to reign the conversation back in.

“No, sorry, it’s just… We don’t talk about those here. Not even if we’re curious. I was wondering about your wings. If it’s okay for me to ask, are they stunted or…?”

“No.” I respond curtly, trotting over and moving to stand beside her for a practiced lecture. Even standing at full height, she’s at least a head taller than me, like most ponies are. “My wings are small, but so’s the rest of me. I can’t do glides or endurance flights well, but because of that there’s less drag, so I can hit corners easy. Small wings, but it’s about proportion, not length.”

She takes a step back as I unfurl my wings again, then takes a step forward again and gingerly extends one of her own beneath mine to inspect it while I finish my explanation. I hear her murmur a quiet understanding as it clicks in her mind, and she steps away once again as I furl them against my sides again.

“That makes sense, I guess. Sorry if that’s an uncomfo-“

“Get it all the time, I’m used to it.” I shrug, cutting off the familiar apology.

“…You shouldn’t have to be.”

Huh?

I look over at her and she’s biting at her lip, looking down at the floor.

“Really, no big deal. Everypony’s curious, it’s just how ponies are. My body’s different, just like everypony else. No point getting upset about it.” I shrug again, feeling the dreadful onset of an emotional dialogue.

“Yeah, they are. And that can breed hate and resentment, which drives ponies away from each other.” She monologues dryly, reciting one of the town’s proverbs. “I shouldn’t have pried, you’re here because you wanted to leave all that behind, like everypony else. Even if you’re okay with it, I still shouldn’t have asked. So, I’m sorry.” She finishes, bowing her front half in a gesture of contrition that just doesn’t look right on her.

“Apologizing doesn’t look good on you.” I say plainly. Her head darts up and there’s a mixture of confusion and shock on her face before she recovers.

“What?” She asks, as if she’s not sure she heard me right.

“You don’t look good when you apologize. Some ponies are born to bow and scrape, you can tell looking at ‘em, you’re not one of them.” I elaborate flatly. Her jaw slacks a bit and her eyes narrow as she tries to read into it, but I spare her the trouble, shrugging a third time with a casual disinterest. “We’re even now.”

It takes her a second to realize what I’m saying, but she looks like she can’t decide whether to be insulted or amused. I wait patiently for her to choose one, but when she doesn’t after about half a minute I fake a big yawn and start to circle back around her again towards the sparse bedroom beyond.

“I’m gonna rest, thanks for all your help. I won’t tell anypony about anything we talked about. See you at dinner.” I brush past her as she continues to observe me in quiet indecision. I step into my room and extend a wing to nudge the door closed, leaving her to her own devices in my living space. Before I push it closed she finally speaks up from behind me.

“Hey! I, uh… I know we don’t really have any spare supplies, but… If you need a hoof preening, I’d be happy to help.”

I feel my extended wing tense up at the prospect, making wrapping the edge of the door suddenly a much more challenging endeavor. I turn my head over my shoulder and narrow my eyes a bit, gauging if she’s being serious. She’s holding herself in a strong and tall pose, and there’s a very intentionally nonchalant air of confidence about her, starkly contrasting the apologetic display from a minute ago.

“… Are you propositioning me?” I deadpan, turning and facing her directly, tucking the misbehaving wing away. She raises an eyebrow and scoffs silently, then very slowly shakes her head and sighs. I can’t help but feel like I approached that the wrong way.

“See you at dinner, Goldfish.” She mutters with a disappointed smile, turning and with a quick flap of her wings boosting herself up to and out the door, shoving it closed with a hindhoof on the way out.

“…Huh.” I mumble to myself, turning around and hopping up into my bed, laying on my front and being careful to unfurl my wings slowly, looking them over. They really do need some attention, but I’m way too tired to start plucking right now.

I let my head fall onto the pillow, and I’m out within seconds.

“Aah… Oo- Ouch! ow ow ow!”

“Sorry! Sorry! Doing my best here!”

I’m so glad I don’t have wings.

They’re a great mode of transportation, and with proper training they can be really efficient natural magic capacitors, but if I had to re-calibrate and deep-clean my horn every five to ten days for up to an hour at a time, I’d probably have lost it years ago.

“Twilight, stopstopstop!”

“The feather’s almost out, I promise!”

Rainbow Dash left town yesterday after the, as we’re apparently dubbing it, ‘double pinkie’ event to attend Reserve duty for the Wonderbolts. Mostly routine check-ups to make sure all the pegasi are keeping in shape, but sometimes they get held up for a few days. That’s all well and good, but that left Fluttershy without her childhood wingmare to help with her weekly personal grooming.

‘I mean, I have read an entire anthology on pegasus wing shapes and care, as well as some papers on their biology and skeletal structure, but I’ve never actually, you know… Seen a pegasus groom themselves. I thought that was sort of reserved for family and close friends?’

‘Oh, I know! That’s why I’m asking you since Rainbow Dash isn’t here. I’d be too embarrassed to ask Bulky. Cloudchaser would probably take it the wrong way. And Derpy is a great pony and all, but she’s… Fluttershy had trailed off, looking up at me with a reserved grimace and a shiver.

‘Point taken. Alright; I mean, it shouldn’t be much different than taking a bath, right?’

Wrong. So wrong. Inquantifiably, undeniably, and irrefutably wrong.

I had the forethought to cast an Aville’s localized on the one wing in the event I did screw up so that she wouldn’t feel too much discomfort. The issue with that is the spell is only surface-level, and her feathers connect to her nervous system near the base of each feather and all along the ridges of her wings, especially deeply near the primaries when the connections meet muscle and tendons.

I put a ‘Closed’ sign on the front door for the sake of her privacy and we settled on upstairs on the floor to start working, at the foot of the bed and close to the bathroom if we needed water or cleaners. She brought a feather straightening tool and a fine-fibre brush the size of a toothbrush from her home and I started with the latter, focusing it in my telekenisis and gently brushing little bits of dirt, fur from other creatures, and other miscellaneous debris from between her feathers.

At the start I think I did a pretty good job. I used short, gentle strokes like I’ve read winged species prefer, and every feather got individual attention until it gleamed. She held her wing out for me, and I pressed down gently on the mid of her spine where they connected to her back to hold her still. She made a couple strange noises throughout the process, but knowing that a pegasus’ wing is often classified as an erogenous zone I just kept the uncomfortable blushing to a minimum and kept my focus on the wing.

About forty minutes in we hit the snag. One of her main primaries was half-broken at the base, and twisted beyond realignment. She said when it was that bad it meant it had to go, so I switched to the remover and did my best to make it as comfortable as possible.

“Oow!” Fluttershy yelps as I finally pluck the offending feather from its’ slot, dropping it on the floor and preparing a simple mending cantrip for the socket to help it along. Before I can fire it off though, the wing rips itself back inwards and Fluttershy holds it tight in both her hooves, biting at the inside of her cheek and squeezing her teary eyes shut

“Fluttershy, are you alright? I’m so sorry, I didn't know it was going to be that painful- Here, I’ll get you some ice. Just, uh…” I hop up onto all fours, my eyes darting around quickly trying to think of what I can use as a container for ice that would conduct the coolness, but not agitate her sensitive feathers. “Um, hold on, I think I have something fine-woven in the cabinets? Uh, a silk wrapping maybe? Do we have silk fiber?”

I fire off a series of three quick teleports, quickly checking the top cabinet in the bathroom, the towel closet, and giving the entire basement a quick look-over. Nothing that fits the bill enters my line of sight. Fourth teleport, back to the bedroom. Now, how can I apply cooling without a gentle applicator?

Oh yeah, magic. Right

“Fluttershy, can you hold out your wing for me? I’m gonna chill it with a modified everfrost spell, that should numb the region a bit so we can apply proper healing evocations and-“

“N-no, that’s alright, Twilight. I think I’d rather let it heal normally- not that I don’t appreciate the offer, it’s just-aaahf-!” She lets out a pained groan and sucks down a short breath between gritted teeth, holding it for a few seconds before venting it out of her tense form.

“Uh… Are you sure? I mean I don’t wanna give you a sales pitch or anything, but I’m a lot better at healing magic than I am with preening tools.”

That gets a chuckle at least, but I can tell there’s something in the crux of her wing I must have really agitated or pulled, because she winces again and clutches the featherless spot on the inside tightly.

“Mmhm, I’ll be okay. I just… I should head home, I have wing wraps there. I’m sorry Twilight, I shouldn’t have made you help. Oh, shoot, now you probably feel bad…” She chides herself, grimacing, though it’s hard to tell if it’s from the pain or inflection.

“You didn’t force me, I said I’d help! I’m just sorry I’m not very good at it…” I counter, stepping around to her front and offering a hoof. She looks up at me and gives a weak smile as I help her up.

Once she gets on all fours I see her left wing fidget and constrict a few times, and she winces again as she gingerly folds it against her side after a couple tries, pressing against my hoof that she hasn’t let go of. After her wing’s folded she looks back to me and I give a sheepish apology-smile in return. There’s a beat of nothing, but then she slips her hoof off mine and leans forward to give me a big hug.

“Thanks for trying Twilight, really. Maybe after it heals we can try again, sometime?” She suggests quietly. I return the impromptu hug with a firm hoof across the back of her shoulders with a nod.

“Yeah, and I’ll see if I can find any guidebooks on ‘how to not cause muscle damage while preening when I have the time between testing this new spell.” I chide myself, shifting my weight from left to right and back again.

She chuckles softly, giving me another squeeze before letting go. We exchange a brief goodbye and I quickly levitate her things (including an overnight bag, in case she ended up staying for the night again I guess) before she trots out the front door, trying to keep her left side from brushing against anything.

And now I’m standing in the middle of the library, alone, playing back the awful screw-up over and over again in my head. Great. Just great. That‘s gonna keep me up tonight.

With a shameful trot reserved for failing in spectacular fashion, I snag my copy of “The Aspiring Mage’s Guide to Thermal Recalibration: Vol. 2” off the lectern and make my way towards the basement. A small prick at the back of my mind surfaces as I pass through the door, and I backtrack a few steps, gazing over at the non-fiction section.

I take a brief look around at nothing, weighing the importance of stopping Star Swirl and asserting my will against time and space, versus reading up on winged creatures and their cleanliness rituals.

“…”

The silent conversation with myself’s over before it starts, and I make a detour to gather one or seven of the most reputable guides and tomes on the subject I can find.

“Horsefeathers.” I curse under my breath, kicking a foot at the dirt and rocks as I try to catch my breath. It’s been almost two weeks since I got here and I’m barely able to finish a full circuit around the training camp in ten minutes when it takes the other trainees less than three, two for the earth ponies. And it hasn’t gone unnoticed.

“Spike the Dragon, eleven minutes and counting.” A booming mare’s voice calls out from overhead. My instructor, my drill sergeant, my tormentor. “If you think your time is acceptable then I expect three more before the sun sets. Twenty three and counting, drake!”

“Aw, come on-!” I let slip before I can catch myself, and immediately my hands stuff themselves into my traitorous mouth, but the damage is done. Robin, the Lunar Trainee’s overseer and trainer, is suddenly right in front of me between blinks, kicking up a massive dust cloud beneath her hooves as she flares her wings in irritation.

“Was that a complaint from somepony training to serve her royal highness Princess Luna?” She spits the words like the idea of me not kissing her hooves for generously allowing me to run in circles is pissing her off. “Thirty, past dusk!” She leans forward to yell directly into my face, just to be sure I got the message.

“Uhh- Sir Y-Yes Round Robin Miss Ma’am Sir!” I blabber out as my torso tries to catch up to my legs in an effort to leave the scary pegasus as far behind me as possible. She stands tall and intimidating in the middle of the track to glare at me as I keep running, but eventually huffs and launches back into the air in a fluid corkscrew motion, barely disturbing any of her surroundings unlike her landing.

I keep my eyes forward and focus on my breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

“On your right.” A colt calls forward, and I instinctually shift left on the track to make way for another of the faster ponies to pass me. I feel some wind whip past me as the large stallion plows past, but he slows down a few paces ahead, then he slows down a little more, and then he falls in line with me at what seems like a painfully slow canter to him, but feels like a deadpony sprint to me.

“Oh, h-hey… Bulkhead…” I wheeze out, already running out of breath after my very brief moment of recuperation. “Wha- *wheeze* What’s up?”

“Next corner, hop on. Catch your breath. Robin can’t see the forest stretch.” He responds with his pointed and brief mannerism I’ve come to experience the last couple weeks.

Bulkhead’s a dull grey earth pony with the build and stoic attitude of Big Mac, though he talks more freely. He’s got a cutie mark of what looks like a big metal door, and a completely shaved mane that barely grows an inch in any direction. Despite the rugged muscle draft-pony look, he has a knack for funky ideas that get him into trouble. Like trying to bribe the chef for extra rations, or playing dumb with the instructor about an objective so that the others can sneak past on stealth training missions. Honestly, he’s even more of a team player than I am. Not to polish my own fins.

“Nah, I- I’ve got it. Don’t want you… Get into… Trouble…” I give him a thumbs up between chest heaves and manage the best confident smirk I can muster. He gives me a quick nod before we turn onto our next straightaway together into the forest stretch of the run. As soon as we round the corner and the trees obscure our line of sight into the sky, I feel a powerful forehoof scoop me up from behind and suddenly I’m riding on Bulkhead’s back.

“Yeah, alright- Thanks.” I huff quickly, relishing the next thirty seconds that he takes to clear the straightway as my legs scream bloody murder. It’s a brief respite, but before we break back into the open I suck in another big breath and hop off his back, giving an open-palm slap to signal my departure.

“Part takes you just under two minutes, duck out for a minute before you keep going.” He calls back in a somewhat hushed warning, then he takes the turn back into the open light and I lose sight of him. Good call, I wouldn’t have thought about that.

I glance back to make sure nopony else is on the track to notice, but I see a light blue unicorn just a few paces behind, giving me a wide grin as she gets ready to take the turn.

“Buuuusted~” She chimes playfully as she runs past, scooting just for enough to the right as she does so to flick me with her tail.

I roll my eyes and blow the mare a raspberry before I duck into the treeline, taking a knee and laying flat against one of the trees like I was taught in the first week of camouflage lessons.

That was Rosarie. She’s got the playful attitude you’d normally expect from a flyer, though with how she specializes in magic I consider her at least half pegasus. She’s got a light blue coat with a deep red braided mane, and a cutie mark of a super complex series of red and blue lines that apparently represent air currents. She’s a supportive caster, useful when she has friends to help boost and maneuver, but pretty useless on her own in a fight.

As useless as a Unicorn could ever possibly be, anyways. First thing I learned in spars and combat basics: Unicorns are always the priority target. A good earth pony or pegasus can take you down hard and quick if they’re good, but even a novice unicorn can take a whole squadron down with them if they really go crazy. And a good one can do it just as fast from a distance.

Thinking about combat implications for all the different races put a lot in perspective for me. I heard about what happened during the Canterlot wedding, but actually seeing an earth pony trying to beat a unicorn in a fair fight makes me wonder if there’s an earth pony alive that could beat Twilight on her A game.

I hear what must be the two pegasus recruits, because they’re running almost completely in sync with each other like they’ve been practicing for the last few days. They’re getting a lot better at masking the sound of their hooffalls together, but I can still tell it’s them thanks to my keen hearing.

I hear them approach then take the corner, and I decide it’s time to reemerge and keep running the lap. Two minutes or so have passed, and I’ve got a second wind backing me thanks to Bulkhead. I’ve gotta give him some of my rations or something, that’s like the third time he’s bailed me out since we got here.

I break out of the treeline and back onto the track, determined to finish my extra punishment laps before dusk, just to spite Robin.

26 - Non-False Alarm

NON-FALSE ALARM

Few mortals can escape my watchful vigil, fewer still for weeks on end. Nary a soul through my lifespan whom have done so have been pegasi without magical aid nor proof against detections. And so here I lie in my mattress of ether, searching the minds and hearts of fair Equestrians for a fortnight without results. To speak not of mine ego would be a lie of omission, and such a failing has left me increasingly frustrated, and questioning of who it is that conspires against me.

The dreamscape expands around me as my consciousness enters a higher plane, branching out and revealing to me the inner machinations of the minds of all ponies within my moon’s reach. The first to appear to my sixth sense are those closest, and then those most powerful. Nary a hundred meters away lies Sister’s wellspring of soul, an overpowering radiance against the veritable sea of comparatively non-existent specs. I tune her out, and it changes the perspective, allowing me to focus on the average ponies whom require help most.

Seven, nightmare. The sky falls. I show the world as it is, and impart unto them that not all things are within their control.

Twenty-five, night terror. The merciful solution to these is to simply sever their connection to the dream realm. They do not dream that night, though it imparts rest upon their body for a time such that I can devote the time the truly deserve to resolve the underlying issue.

One hundred fourty-eight, another nightmare. The mare’s carrot farm is destroyed and she is the subject of a witch hunt. A gentle reassurance that those she cares for do not, in fact, secretly harbor hate and resentment in secret puts her fears to rest.

It is at this point nearly two minutes has passed, and I’m nearly halfway through Canterlot and its’ outlying regions. Swift work, but temperamental. Surface level and temporary for many. For while I search for Goldfish and the conspirators of the Chronomancer’s guild, as they so infuriatingly dub themselves, I cannot afford my subjects my full attention as I normally do. It brings me a great sadness to neglect my subjects so, to only give them a brief respite, though it is an evil most necessary. So I tell myself.

In truth, I am aware of my growing obsession with locating Star Swirl. By extension I wish to locate his subordinates, as probing any one of their minds could lead me to him. And should I be so blessed by father that this may be the first iteration where he has progressed so far in this timeline, he won’t expect it. I haven’t decided what precisely I shall do with him when I confront him again, though it will certainly be most painful.

I must maintain my focus. I skipped over a small foal during my inner dialogue, I cannot afford lapses in judgement nor duty. I split a part of my consciousness away to guide the filly while the rest of me continues to walk the dream realm.

What non-detection could be so powerful it usurps even my all-seeing night eye, and transcends into the realm of dreams? Certainly no incantations of this age, though the furthest magic had ever progressed was just before the Chaos Wars, and no such spell existed to mine knowledge even then. Such leaves three options, or two should I not be so humble.

Firstly: Perhaps an ally conspires against me, pointedly sabotaging my progress for unknowable reasons.

With an effortless and subconscious swing in direction all other connections fade, and sister’s raging flame burns brightly before me, though I do not pervade into it. Such a suspicion is unwarranted, and to betray our mutual trust would obliterate the fragile understanding I’ve only just reached with her. Should I have suspicions, I should speak to her before prying.

Secondly: A powerful unicorn has concocted a powerful anti-divination magic and successfully cast it, with no help from the academies nor the ancient archives. The last two points I can be certain of as I had spies planted within both immediately upon my return.

My mind falters as my consciousness gives pause to that line of thought. A unicorn with savant-like magical prowess and a keen interest as well as capability in spellcasting, that wouldn’t raise any alarms with my spies? Only one comes to mind, ridiculous though the notion is.

I expand my field of influence, many multiple thousands of sleeping souls forming indirect connections with me until I reach Ponyville. Unsurprisingly, Twilight Sparkle’s connection to the dream realm is barely existent. Though, like sister, even such a weak connection from her burns brightly against the backdrop of an average pony. Even awake, ponies are connected here through daydreams and visions of the future. Taking a peek into her psyche, though, I see only runic formulae and anatomy studies appearing in equal measure. A strange combination, though by no means beyond normalcy for a mare so studious.

I shake my non-existent head and scoff at myself with a non-existent breath. Clearly Twilight Sparkle does not conspire against us, she hath saved us on a multitude of occasions… Admittedly, before we all but stole away her assistant and surrogate child. Such a thing could have made her spiteful…

No. The rationale is unjust and hardly believable. There is no reason to suspect Twilight Sparkle. If there truly is a skilled mage involved in keeping them hidden, it is not her. Likely it is Star Swirl himself, though even he could not maintain such powerful magic over all of his operatives and over such long distances for months or years at a time.

The third option is that I have simply missed her, or that I do not have the broad reach I believe myself to within the dream realm. It is an intrusive thought I do grapple with on occasion, though it has the telltale signs of self-doubt and loathing etched into its’ very basis. Although a dreamwalker I may be and a Goddess We are, such facts do not innately grant me control over the reality of such things.

I pull away from Ponyville, from the surrounding settlements, from Equestria. I focus my own psyche inwards, observing my own connection with myself in the dream. Much like looking into a mirror, the self-doubt reflects in my connection. Every feeling, every question, every emotion changes how I interact with the ponies here, and should I lose my confidence, I would become an ineffective guardian.

Even only looking inward, I still feel the presence of sister radiating against my own. Her will is vast and burns brightly here, making it impossible to tune her out completely.

‘Not because I suspect you, dearest sister. Only to satiate curiosity.’ I convince myself.

I dive against her mental defenses, slipping past with a practiced ease to look into what’s happening in her mind.

She’s in some kind of meeting with either a noble’s representative or a dignitary. Some pony’s mouth is moving, but she’s hardly registering the output of the dialogue. Noble, then. I can’t see or hear what’s happening exactly as she’s experiencing the real world and is very much awake, but what I can experience is the multi-hued wig and clown nose she is imagining the representative wearing. Tame, slightly juvenile, and so very Celestia.

There’s a blip in my connection. Something I’ve never felt before, but an ever-so-subtle interruption in my observation. In that brief time the daydreaming has stopped, drastically weakening her connection to the dream realm. In the fraction of a second I have before I’m forced to pull away there’s a piercing green light that fills my senses. An all-too-familiar presence of a great evil that riles up the nightmare within, and the feeling of a burning black flame.

Forcefully severing my connection before it can spread into me, I bolt upright in my bedchambers sweating profusely. My mane is just beginning to settle when I light my horn and throw myself from my bed, jumping into a breakneck gallop towards my now-open door and through it into the halls. The two Lunar Guard jump in surprise, and I think one of them exclaims something, but I cut him off before he can start with useless inquiries.

“My sister may be compromised, join me but maintain a safe distance. Should I turn, signal the Thestrals and Captain Crescent Slash.” I spew the words as they come to me, my eyes still dilating from the light of the late morning.

Without a word they fall in line behind me, leaving a respectable distance between both themselves and myself. I begin weaving a low tier magic detection spell, and immediately my vision is overlayed in yellow and orange as the many wards and charms lining every inch of the castle come into view as if painted in colored chalk. What I’m looking for is precisely where I expected it, in the throne room. Sister’s blazing magical signature, uncontainable and incomparable, even by the many M-Vis poured into the throne’s wards. It makes the light pinkish-red of the charms seem a pittance in contrast to the deep crimson wellspring inside her chest.

I round another corner, dropping the spell as we enter the public wings so I might watch where I gallop, lest I crush a poor castle tender underhoof in my stampede. The heavens guide my hoof in this morn, however, as the halls are clear and ponies scarce all the way to the throne room proper. There’s a small line of various walks of like waiting for their turn at five minutes of their ruler’s time, however I pay them no heed as I continue my charge.

“Unseal the chamber!” I command the Royal Guards at attention without slowing down. They seem startled, though being faced with the imminent threat of being trampled by myself and my entourage they swiftly clamber over themselves to comply, one using their magic and the other manually pulling at the handles to allow me to burst past the threshold, interrupting whatever meeting had been taking place. Sister raises her head at the intrusion, mouth still hanging open mid-sentence, and stares back down at me in surprise. A cursory glance reveals that all is well with her, however I know the nature of umbrum corruption.

“All of you, evacuate the premises post-haste! Those under Canterlot’s Royal banner, by oath you are to comply!” I shout at the room. Sister’s look of shock spreads to everypony at that point, but this is the part where I reinforce the order before anypony begins to challenge me. They do that in this age. “This means NOW!”

The effect is immediate. The record keepers and advisors begin packing up what essentials they can hold in their hooves and rise from their places, and her aide looks up at her with a confused and torn expression, unsure if she, too, is bound by such an order. Sister narrows her eyes with that unreadable mask, but without averting her gaze from me nods her permission to the mare, who quickly begins filing out with the rest of the staff.

The noble’s messenger pony looks indecisive, though whether it’s by my entrance or his unwillingness to book another appointment the arrogance of his not being moving already exhausts the non-existent patience of mine he had to begin with, and instead of asking permission I simply light my horn and teleport him just outside of the chambers, by way of the double doors propped open behind me.

“Luna, I presume there’s a sound reason you’re interrupting Day Court unannounced and issuing evacuation commands?” She questions, pointedly quietly enough for the ponies outside the throne room to not hear, though some staff are still filing out. I wait a few seconds before responding, giving them time to clear out just in case I am indeed correct.

“You two, at the doors. Outside. My prior order stands.” I command my guards. Immediately they retreat to the tail end of the evacuating ponies, walking backwards to face further into the throne room until they stop beside the doors. I give them a quick nod as the last of the aides file out, and they yank control from the Day Guards out front, sealing the chamber and reinstating the silencing and anti-teleportation wards. Now only sister and myself occupy the vast chamber.

“Luna, what in mother’s name are you doing? If Trottingham isn’t on fire-“

“Remain still and do not resist, sister. I suspect you are under a charm and may be a danger to us all, including yourself.” I counter, interrupting another pointless discussion. I take a few steps forward and light my horn in the beginnings of a Detect Evil spell, followed quickly by a hushed start to the verbal components of a Remove Curse incantation. Celestia chooses to disobey my request, however, and raises herself to a standing position on the dais, shaking her head wildly.

“I can assure you I’m under no such spells. What makes you think I’ve been charmed, or perhaps you suspect some kind of hex?” The mask falls away completely without any of her subjects to save face for, and she looks down at me with an incredulous expression. “Honestly, Luna, you’re going to bring us back to the dark ages again if you keep-“

“An individual under the effects of a charm are unlikely to be privy to such a thing, of which you should be keenly aware. I am afraid I must insist. Please, subject yourself to my spell of your own will, that I might purge it from you.” I summon a bright swirl of azure light to the base of my horn, reaching out through reality to extend my spell into dreamspace, where I can directly search her consciousness. It’s a subtle art, casting through realms, and though slower it has the added benefit of being both uncounterable and undetectable until it has already executed, anchoring itself back amongst the material planes.

Sister however, being no fool, is privy to such methods. As the connection for my spell links into her wellspring and materializes in an instant, it’s dispelled with an almost subconscious wave of her horn, and her gaze grows dour.

“I can’t let you to do that, Lulu.”

I narrow my eyes and shift my hind hooves slightly to the side on instinct, preparing to dodge if the need arises. It’s doubtful whatever effect has hold of her has the capacity to control her actions, though with the many mounting stresses of the last few weeks I can’t be sure she’s grounded enough to resist such magical suggestions. Purely as a precaution, I flutter my wings and let them hang half-extended at my sides.

“So you acknowledge awareness of it, though still refuse aid. Under what duress would you hide such a bane?” I begin circling from the center of the chamber, approaching the throne at an angle with slow, measured hooffalls. She meets my gaze evenly, and there’s a clear air of distrust between the two of us.

“Under none. It is no bane, sister, it is a crutch.” Her reply comes without hesitation, and I pause briefly before continuing around.

“What could the nature of such a crutch be, to have influence over your mind? For you to allow it into your mind!” I stop short just beyond the edge of the dais and regard her with a raised brow. My tone is stern now, but not quite accusatory. My concern is genuine, I have no way of knowing if any of the words she speaks are even her own so long as she is under a spell.

“What reason did you have to even suspect such a thing? We agreed to not pry so deeply as we have before, and I’ve specifically asked you to refrain from-“

“You shall not deflect me like some commonpony, sister!” I slam my forehooves down on the lowest step pointedly, and silence creeps in as she cranes her neck and tilts her head into the air, an air of anger building behind her eyes. I meet the stare with a resolute and determined gaze, but hers does not relent.

“I know of your tantabus.” She quips pointedly. My head jerks back and I open my mouth to retort, but she interrupts me to continue. “I am aware of its’ existence and potential, though I allow you it without judgement despite my own opinion out of respect. I do not judge your laying with our subjects, nor tirades against the orderly and disciplined nature of this new age because I know they help you to cope.”

How could she possibly know about the tantabus? It’s a recursive and contained entity, it cannot be shared nor observed. It isn’t possible to know of it without being a dreamwalker or a mind reader. Despite what many may believe, Celestia is neither.

“Explain how you have come to know such things. Were you dishonest in your claims to have failed in recreating Our dream magic?” I accuse, ascending a few steps towards her throne.

“Divination. You tell me of it yourself, not too long from now. When your current lover passes away, it’s going to be just as difficult. You’ll be hurt and vulnerable, and-“

“Stop.” I request loudly, closing my eyes tightly as the word echoes off the chamber walls for a scant second as I pause my ascent halfway up the dais. I can tell she has that look of motherly sympathy, as if she’s the one responsible for making it all alright. It’s just how she is, and the pity does me no favors. Nor does the very real reminder of my subjects’ mortality.

“It’s not-“

“I do not require your console, sister.” I cut her short. “You are deflecting once more. I cannot trust your promises nor judgement if your thoughts may be clouded by spellcraft. If you do not trust me enough to allow me into your mind I shall designate a magician you do trust- Perhaps even Twilight Sparkle, to whom I am certain you have the utmost faith in- but I cannot allow this to go unchecked.” I look back up at her once more, and the expression is indiscernible. Not quite pained, but not upset either. There’s no sorrow, but the space behind her eyes is struggling to show something.

“This is my Tantabus, Luna. I need it. Truly, need it. It holds influence over me, you’re right to be critical of it, but it’s a spell of my own execution that aides me in ways I can’t begin to explain.” Her face changes again, and there’s a spark that finally takes root in her demeanor; Desperation. It takes me by surprise to see such a look on her.

“Luna, please, I need you to trust me. I know I haven’t shown you the faith I’m asking for since your return, and our relationship may be tested by this among other things, but I swear to you that I’m perfectly fine and sane.”

“Celestia…” I hesitate, grappling with the weight of her words. “I do trust you. Well and truly I do, though I care and worry in equal measure. What if one of our subjects were to discover such a thing?” I question.

“My own student ran a diagnostic spell on me during our instruction session, for reasons unrelated. Even she was none the wiser.”

“How is that possible? Twilight Sparkle of all ponies could not overlook-“

“Because she isn’t versed in this kind of magic. No wizard in our kingdom is capable of detecting it, and only a scant few from our allied regions might harbor such specialists.”

My mind races to piece together how in Tartarus Twilight of all ponies could have missed a curse. A charm strong enough to anchor within an Alicorn, willing or not, would have to leave a massive magical signature. If it was magic Celestia knew but Twilight didn’t, in a style undetectable to modern runic scrying…

“An umbrum curse.” I mutter. She nods, slowly. “What kind of boon could justify-“

“I will not elaborate, sister. I ask that you don't pry into my mind nor my dreams again, I can’t be certain of the effects it could have if you do.”

Silence again. And just like that, the conversation’s roadblocked. The only courses of action are to attempt to restrain and detain her in order to dispel the effect in expectation that it truly is harmful in nature, or to relent and believe her words are true. If I am correct and she is being controlled, am I betraying her by not doing my best to deliver her from it? Or is it my obligation as her sister to believe she has the strength and will to be telling the truth, that this is truly something she needs and simply can’t elaborate on? It’s an impossible choice.

“I do not know what course of action is justified.” I sigh, the tension leaving my previously battle-ready form. “I trust you, sister. Truly and wholly. What I do not trust is whatever force has a hold over your mind. And I cannot know to which I speak.”

It’s the best I have. I’ve spoken the truth, no more and no less. It holds no weight nor finality, and it absolutely begs guidance.

“This spell has been with me since your banishment, it’s as much a part of me as you are.” She replies softly, lifting herself from the throne and descending the steps to meet me halfway. I feel her mane brushing up against me as she leans down to rest her forehead to mine, and the familiar ritual placates my anxiety.

“Will you at least explain the reason for its’ necessity? As you have spoken I- We… Are no stranger to vices, if judgement is your fear you needn’t worry. We only fear for you, Sol.” I press my head and the base of my horn forward and interlock with her own, gazing blankly down at our hooves through lazy, distant eyes.

“You never did answer me before, you know.” She diverts. I perk my ears a bit, but keep my mouth shut. “About why you keep using my old name. Is the old language truly so dear to you?”

I give a small nod, as far as our interlocked horns allow me.

“Very much so, though it is you which is most dear to Us. It is a name in which lies our bond, our lineage. I do not understand why you ever adopted a new one.” I reply, accepting the shift in topic, but not forgetting the original question.

“Sol is the Goddess of the Sun, empress of the blazing skies. In a similar manner to Nightmare Moon, whom alone is the Night incarnate.” I feel myself tense up slightly despite myself as Celestia brings mention to my lesser half, but when I pull my head away I feel a gentle gold-clad hoof on my withers guiding my gaze back to her. She’s smiling again, with that motherly undertone she’s so famous for. It’s patronizing, and it’s condescending given the circumstance, but I let those unimportant bits sweep themselves beneath a rug as I allow myself to find relief in it. Though I may have my pride, on this one occasion I will allow my elder sister to comfort me.

“We may be those things, but we’re not just those things. Celestia and Luna are the rulers of Equestria. Even if our old names and identities are part of us, they don’t define us. It took me centuries to truly embrace that, something you’ve come to terms with in less than a decade.”

I feel a few tears begin to well up in my eyes, and I turn my head away from her.

“I… Your pupil and her friends have taught us both much. Were it not for them, we would likely be warring still. And so, I want to make good on those teachings.” I force myself to recenter and I clear my throat quickly, trying my best to keep a level but sincere tone. “I am pained that you do not trust me enough to reveal your crutch. I cannot fathom if it is distrust, magical compulsion, or ego. Being deflected and toyed with conversationally only inflates such feelings.” I admit openly, pursing my lips and looking down at the ground.

Celestia's ears perk up at that last statement, but she does not look away from me.

"I’m sorry Luna, it’s instinctual for me. I trust you as well, it’s a matter of-“

“If you trust me then for once will you share in your secrets!?” I cry out with a frustrated stomp. “You know of my dealings, of my vices, by your own word you’ve admitted that I spoke them to you of my own accord, though you act as if your flaws are somehow above sharing-!”

“I siphoned a shard of Sombra’s soul!” She suddenly yells out, turning away from me and flaring her wings. “I couldn’t bear to have him gone, so I stole a piece of his soul away into my own so I wouldn’t be without him. That’s why I couldn’t be the one to save the Crystal Empire, that’s why I had to leave everything up to Twilight and her friends! Because if I had to see him, to fight him again-“

“You would not be able to bring yourself to obliterate him.” I breathe incredulously, my voice a low rumble. Suddenly her stubborn insistence years prior on only her student going to save an entire empire began to click.

“No, because then I would lose the only piece of him I have. My Sombra is gone, I know and fully accept it. But this piece of him, the good part I can believe still exists… It helps me rise each morning, fooling myself into believing he’s really there beside me. Whispering to me while I listen to the noble houses ramble, helping theorize spellcraft as if it’s his quill writing in my compendium.”

“That sounds terrible, to meet such disappointments each day.” I murmur sadly.

“It is.” She admits, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly. “But it helps me stay sane. Before you came back to me, for centuries, he was all I had.” She confesses, her hind legs lowering as she sits down facing directly away from me. I let the quiet play its’ course for a few seconds, then I climb a step and sit down beside her, leaning my upper body against hers to offer some support. She doesn’t look up or say anything, but after a moment’s hesitation I feel her return the pressure.

We sat there for a minute, then two, then ten. A wordless exchange in an empty throne room, coming to terms with the reality that neither of us are perfect.

The sound of the doors to the main hall opening and closing as Crescent Slash steps inside break us out of our reverie. Sister and I both look up to address the intruder, and the old stallion wears his head high, but doffs his helm and briefly bows in a gesture of respect and apology for his intrusion. Good, I would have him hanged for any less.

“I take it I’m not required?” He asks with a merciful brevity. “I was made aware of a possible usurping.”

“Begone, captain. And do my sister the favor of informing the staff and citizens that Day Court shall be canceled for the evening.“

I feel Celestia begin to peel away from me to retort, but I’m louder.

“Should any if their issues be pressing, Night Court shall gladly hear their pleas at dusk.”

He offers a brief salute before donning his helm once more, turning and trotting out the double doors to address the masses. They mercifully close behind him before the sounds beyond can make their way in, though I do see both a set of Royal and my Night guard peering in before they shut, a look of relief on all parties.

“Luna, I can’t just cancel Day Court, some of these ponies have waited weeks to-“

“And as such they shall be first to receive an audience at Night Court in recompense for my inconveniencing them.” I reply with a smug grin. We both know that none of the cowardly nobility would dare try their double-talk high-born politics in my court, and so they would be forced to reschedule lest the need was truly dire.

“You truly can be wicked.” She eventually chuckles, resting her head against my shoulder again. I lay my cheek against the top of her head and sigh contentedly.

“Only a dishonest pony need fear me, sister. And given this is a society of polite thieves, many do.” We both suppress a giggle and enjoy each other’s company for a fair while, before I drag her from her work to enjoy our garden for the first time in months.

27 - The Question Inside The Question

I won't be continuing to work on this story, at least any time soon, so I figure I'd release what I had written o7

THE QUESTION INSIDE THE QUESTION

Dear Princess Celestia,

Cyr's Seeing. Etherwalk, modified. Custom Spell. Pathfind, modified.

Major runes:

Verita - Kroe/Mité (Major)/Verita - Vici - Verita/Epsi(Relay)’

t=-1,209,600

p<=1.0

Pathfind modification: Delay on Trigger

Etherwalk is one of those spells I’ve always wanted to use. You know how when you read about the comparative density of different materials you get that intrusive thought on exactly how many newtons of force it would take to penetrate it without majorly deforming the material itself? It’s similar to that with spells that navigate or interact with higher planes, but instead of external forces acting on other observable forces, you are the external force exerting influence on otherwise inobservable dimensions!

“Keep it cool, Twilight. It’s just peering into the ethereal plane as a quantumly disentangled temporal relay. No big deal.” I pause on the train platform to take a deep breath in, and hold it. And I keep holding it. I wonder what sort of details will be apparent that aren’t normally observable with the naked eye? Will Detect Magic pierce an illusion spell projecting beyond planes? Would it just detect the spell itself, or is the spell capable of relaying magical readouts?

“Uh, hello? Equestria to Twilight! Where do ya’ want this?”

The air explodes out from my lungs as my body reminds me that oxygenating my blood and organs is not optional. Rainbow Dash’s appearance shocks me out of my wonderful daydreams and I cover my mouth with a hoof to cough lightly a few times, catching my breath as my lungs slowly stop hating my guts. Or, well, me.

“Rainbow, is a mare more than just the sum of her parts?” I muse idly, furrowing my brows.

“Uhhh…”

“I mean, if somepony experiences a catastrophic liver failure and for some reason is resistant to regrowth evocations, and a healthy one gets swapped in for the bad one, is it their liver? Or is it somepony else’s?” I begin pacing back and forth on the platform, my bare hooves knocking against the clean but unpolished wood as I make 180 degree turns exactly every nine steps, alternating rotating left on my left forehoof, and right on the right. “And by that token, at what point does it stop being the donor’s liver, if ever? When it’s removed, implanted? When the host body accepts it and it starts functioning normally?”

“Does it like, matter?” She responds unhelpfully, setting a satchel on the ground beside my designated pacing path.

“Didn’t you say you were interested in philosophy?” I retort, equally as unhelpful in solving the sudden quandary but hoping to rope in her engagement so I can bounce ideas off of her.

“Uh, no? I mean, like, I guess sometimes, when it’s about something more… Cool.” She flutters her wings a bit and with a mighty flap takes back to the air with a graceful backwards arial somersault. The display clicks something in my head.

“What if you lost a wing, and somepony wanted to give you theirs?” I suggest. She looks mortified at the mere suggestion, but I press on. “Not that that’ll ever happen, but just to make it more relevant to the discussion. Would it be your wing, their wing, how do you even classify that?”

Rainbow looks over at her flapping appendages and there’s more than a small amount of concern crossing her face as she thinks about it. It suddenly occurs to me that I’m describing a pretty brutal scenario, it’d be like somepony asking me to imagine grinding up my horn and slapping a new one on. Oh, Celestia, there’s a lot of nerve endings in a horn…

“I mean… I guess once it’s on my body, it’s mine… Or maybe…” She tucks her wings tight against her sides and shivers, falling half a foot to the ground next to me with a t-t-thnk! “Listen, I’m gonna keep it real with you, Twi, that’s kinda messed up aaaand I really don’t wanna think about it.”

Okay, yeah, boundary crossed. Whoops.

“Sorry Rainbow, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I didn’t really think about it until after I said it.”

“Meh, it’s cool. I got my wings and they got me, and that’s all I gotta know!” She polishes a fetlock against her chest with an award-winning grin, ruffling her feathers for extra effect, but knocks over the satchel in the process, spilling about half a dozen hastily-scribbled scrolls across the platform. “Oh shoot, my bad!”

She zips past me and grabs one that the wind caught and started to carry towards the rails, and I summon a diminutive bit of magic to wrap the other five or six in my telekinesis and slip them back into the bag. A few seconds later she has the other one wrapped in a wing and offers it up, which I treat similarly to the other ones. When the scroll leaves her wing and the tension leaves the limb, I notice one of her primaries is bent at an odd angle. Curious, I take a half-step towards her.

“Hey, is your wing okay? Looks like you have some feathers out of place.” I note.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” She unfurls the same wing and sure enough there’s a couple primaries ever so slightly bent or twisted, and the rows below them aren’t looking so hot in the cleanliness department either, “They put me through the ringer yesterday. Us reserves gotta be ready to be Wonderbolts at the drop of a bit!” A proud look crosses her face as she thinks about it, and I give her a warm nod in acknowledgement. She has every right to be proud about it, it’s her dream after all. The bragging and boasting is understandable too, at least coming from her anyways.

“If you want I can help you clean them when I get back, I did a lot of reading up on it yesterday and I think I’ve got the fundamentals-“

“Whooooah woah woah, back it up a sec!” Her eyes widen and she raises herself to her full height with a ruffle of her wings. She looks conspiratorially around the platform as if checking to see if anypony else heard. I take an idle glance to fill the moment, and it’s just us, Bon Bon, and an elderly unicorn I don’t know probably waiting to head back home to Canterlot. I wonder why Bon Bon is going to Canterlot, actually. I didn’t think her businesses operated out of the capital, or maybe it’s for leisure? She could also be waiting for the one o’clock to Baltimare, but that’s none of my business really.

Oh, Rainbow Dash’s nose is touching mine now. Magic. Telekenetic field. Rainbow Dash’s nose is now a comfortable and respectable six inches from my own.

“Sorry, did you say something? Something crossed my mind.” I apologize, but not for the personal space part. She raises a hoof to go shoulder-to-shoulder with me, but hesitates for a second and settles for just talking without physical contact.

“I said I like ya’, but I don’t like you like that. I mean, no offense, you’re awesome and all but just… Not like that.” She shrinks down a bit which is rare of her, but she bounces back up before I can question the response. “Honestly I wasn’t sure ya’ swung that way. Or any way. I wasn’t sure you, uh… Swung. At all.”

“Rainbow, what in Equestria are you talking about? It’s not like I was- Like I was…” There’s a short in my brain as I put two and two together. Reserved for family and ‘close friends.’ Erogenous zone. Taboo to do in front of another pony. “Oh, it’s… Oh.” I croak lamely, pursing my lips and staring forward with a hard contemplative stare. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was so… Sorry, no, I was just asking to help, not because I, or that you were- And I mean I’m not just saying that to cover tail, I really didn’t know until-“

“Woah, cool it! You’re gonna pull a brain muscle.” She flaps her wings to hold herself upright while she clamps both her forehooves down on my shoulders to keep me still. Without any room to fidget or dodge, I’m forced to look back at her with an apologetic smile. “So, just so we’re clear, you’re not into me?” She deadpans with a sincere seriousness. I shake my head. “Damn, really?” She pushes herself up and off my shoulders with a half-disheartened look.

“Didn’t you just say you didn’t like me like that?” I deadpan back. She waves a dismissive hoof and flips onto her back midair, drifting lazily to the side.

“Yeah, yeah, but how cool would it be if I could tell ponies I was so awesome even Twilight couldn’t resist!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, starting to feel a little offended. She takes the clue and looks down at me, stopping her dismissive hoof wave.

“Oh, uh… I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant, you know…” She trails off. I wait for the part that ‘I know’ to be elaborated on, but she just hovers and looks around awkwardly.

“Does everypony think I’m an antisocial hermit or something? I talk to everypony!” I press the issue, determined to get some kind of insight out of the multi-hue pegasus.

“Well, maybe not so much antisocial, as… You know…” She trails off again, and I lightly rasp a hoof against the wooden planks to get her attention.

“Rainbow, I’m serious! I’m what?”

“Well, it’s just… When’s the last time you went on a date?” She asks. That throws me off, and I slowly reign in my surprise with a series of blinks.

“I- That’s personal-“

“That’s what I mean.” She gently lowers herself back to the ground again and twists head-side-up to be level with me again. “I’m not hating, everypony knows you’re super busy all the time, and you probably don’t go for that sort of thing.”

“W- I’m absolutely an advocate of ‘that sort of thing!’ Having a deep psychological and physiological bond with another pony is a fascinating prospect, and there’s a lot to learn from it!” I counter defensively. She raises her forehooves up in mock surrender and hovers half a foot up to stay oriented.

“Alright, alright, you convinced me!”

I feel my maw and face scrunched up in a strange bundle, and I quickly shake my head to try to reset myself. We both hold our positions for half a minute or so, and the sound of an approaching train mercifully breaks the tension. I think I see her visibly sigh out of the corner of my eye, but when my head darts to her she’s casually whistling a tune to hersef.

“…Does everypony really think that?” I ask, looking down dejectedly at the platform. That gets her attention once again, and much more quickly than before I hear her clop down onto the ground beside me and lift a hoof onto my back, rubbing in small circles.

“Hey, really, it’s not like that. It’s just a vibe, y’know? People think I dig mares all the time, part of the vibe.”

“You don’t?” I ask before I can stop myself. My eyes go wide and I open my mouth to apologize but she laughs in my face before I get the chance.

“Let’s just say I go where the breeze takes me.” She responds cryptically. I shake my head again, resolving to not think about it as I gather my saddlebag and satchel. “By the way, why the sudden interest? You never asked before.” She notes, peculiarly perspective for her.

“No reason. Like I said, I read a book.” I lie, facing the rails as the train slowly comes to a stop in front of us. There’s a few more seconds of metal-on-metal and a mechanical hiss, then quiet.

“Nopony else asked you to help them while I was gone?” Rainbow presses again, suspiciously playful about it.

“Mm-mm. Nope, just, uh… Thought it’s be a, um, an enlightening experience.”

“Didn’t you say it was because you wanted to help?” She quips. Oh dear Celestia I can hear that damn smug grin in her voice.

“Two things can simultaneously be true!” I argue, but the snorting chuckles emanating from behind me tell me she doesn’t buy it.

“Enjoy your trip, Twi, I’ll see you around!” She waves at me as she flies off towards the other end of town. But her house is west…

“Where are you going?!” I yell after her.

“Nowhere!” She yells back from the east, towards the Everfree Forest and Fluttershy’s cottage. I close my eyes and let out the longest, most dramatic groan I can muster. That’s going to be a mess to clean up later.

-

‘Does Fluttershy…?’

It’s all I could think about on the entire trip to Canterlot. There’s signs and variables that I didn’t know how to interpret in the moment and so I dismissed them, left them unchecked as happenstance or expected behavioral deviations. But thinking in a retrospective manner with a possible outcome in mind makes a lot of the pieces fit the narrative. Is it true? Was I imagining? Over-complicating? Am I biased?

Well obviously I’m biased, I’m the subject of a purely subjective emotional analysis and a recount of interpersonal interactions. It’s subjectively as far away from unbiased as you could ever possibly get. But the question inside the question is: Am I thinking logically despite my bias?

Mathematics is simple. Rigid rules and guidelines breaks down the extraordinary into quantifiable and digestible strings of information. Physics is math, but with extra steps, and the trade-off is that theories in it can be tested and applied to the real world. Biology adds the Pony layer to the equation, and biochemistry in hoof with the brain and society is the fourth dimension of convolution to the overly-complex metaphor.

All that to say that interpersonal contact is so extraordinarily detached from mathematics that it’s almost impossible to quantify factually and objectively.

Almost.

In the many hours available to do precious little other than agonize over a problem that can’t be solved, I solved it.

A simple scoring system based on relational fail-rate of married unions, factoring in several traits like sex of both or all parties, number of participants (assumed median of just above 2,) allocating a percentile bracket for genetic differentials, and then there’s environmental factors like allergens, provocative scenery, the availability of romantic versus engaging activities weighted by distance versus occupant throughput.

Plugging in what I know off the top of my head from census data of Ponyville as of last year, accounting for what I know about myself and Fluttershy, I get a nice rounded output of 8,430.

…

I need help.

“