Deep within Canterlot castle, when the city was still newly formed by the founders of Equestria, there paced a shadow in the darkness of a great library, assembled with great care. The shadow walked from shelf to shelf with an erratic nervousness in its hoofsteps. Every so often, the figure would stop and look at a shelf for a second or two, seemingly at random, before hesitantly carrying on. The silhouette of bearded pony could be made clearly against the moon-lit windows, and an eccentric bell sound could be heard with every movement.
The figure, of course, was Starswirl the Bearded, and he needed no light because this was his study. When one lives in the confines of one’s own accomplishments, failures, and their entire life, one gets used to the layout to the point where memory serves better than sight. The reason that Starswirl was nervous, perhaps for the first time in his life, was because he was going to die.
There was no getting around it. Years ago, he had invented and practiced a form of divination, so that he could try and aid the peace effort being made by his apprentice Clover. What he had found was his own grim destiny. In precisely ten minutes and forty-two seconds, ten years at the time, he was going to have a heart attack. He had tried to change his destiny, using everything from cutie marks to time travel, but one by one each one failed. The only one that might have worked, a spell that completely changed a pony’s very essence, required some sort of knowledge he lacked, and with ten minutes could not very well gain it. He had told nopony, but as the hours ticked by, he grew more and more restless, until he found himself wandering his shelves trying to think of something, neigh, anything that could even prolong his death even a few more hours. Even that would be a minor success.
As the moments ticked by (nine minutes and 33 seconds left) he found his life flashing before his eyes. He remembered the earning of his cutie mark, when he managed to send a bird a few feet to its left, saving it from a lunging snake. Time and space magic, and of late destiny, had always been something of a specialty of Starswirl’s, though he exceeded in all schools of thought, and indeed magical theory itself. All the knowledge in the world couldn't save him though, to his lament. Eight minutes and 58 seconds.
He recalled his first major success, back in the Unicornia magical university, when he invented the first time travel spell literally so he could pull a college prank. Oh, he found out that it couldn’t change anything the hard way. Time travel magic didn't intersect with destiny magic. Everypony with a basic grasp on the workings of magic knew that.
Starswirl stopped in his tracks, the answer hitting him dead in the face. He had always had to create his own spells to suit his own purposes, why had he never thought of combining them? Curious what imminent death does to a stallion. Eight minutes and four seconds left.
With the threat of the grim reaper on his doorstep, Starswirl began to move through the library in a frantic vigor contrasting with his old age. The books he needed were where he needed them to be, and already they glowed with a familiar purple aura of energy as they flew towards a desk the shaded Magician stood at. Not waiting for a second, the Unicorn took a quill into his hoof and… where was the ink?!?!?!
He flew around in something akin to rage, practically slandering Clover the Clever’s name for having misplaced his ink. In an instant of panic, his horn glowed underneath his hat and the entire library burst into light rivaling that of the day. That new ‘Luna’ princess might be upset, but he didn't care. Finding the ink on the windowsill, he closed his eyes in effort and screwed the very laws of reality as the bottle blinked out of existence long enough to pop up on the desk. Six minutes and thirty seconds left. He started to quickly scribble down notes.
Glancing every so often to the exact spells he had opened, he mishmashed the incantations together. A little temporal bending from the time spell, a little teleport magic to get where he needed to go, just a little divination so he didn't accidently get the destination wrong, and the most important part: the majority of his unfinished destiny spell. It wouldn't have worked on its own, but hopefully it would provide enough stability to allow him to stay in the past. If it didn't… well… his last effort at cheating the inevitability of fate would die with him. 2 minutes exactly.
Once the unicorn finished, the quill flung itself the side of the desk as he picked up the still dripping, blotted parchment. There was no time for penmanship, not even to double check the grammar. This was not something he was going to publish. His horn glowed one last time as he read the sloppy writing. He practically shouted the necessary casting words
“Bend time, bend, then rip apart.
Hurry and let me from space depart.
Carry me to where I will,
and let not destiny be fulfilled!”
Perhaps he could have done better, but it did the trick. He felt the very walls of the fourth dimension crumble around him, but he didn't let lose any cry of joy. In his last act of magic, he felt himself be consumed by his own magic in a blinding flash of light. On that day, as history knows, Starswirl the Bearded died. The truth is more complex.
The spell worked as intended, and Starswirl found himself in a room. Had he the time, he would have checked to make sure it was the right room, but with a minute left he had no time. He could already feel his heart pounding at his chest. He flung his cloak off, and pulled out the note book he always had on him, containing his most cherished spells, as well as one hastily written note hanging loosely between the first page and the cover. Thirty seconds left.
The pain very quickly became too much to bear for the poor old stallion, as he backed up in a blind instinct to somehow avoid the fire within his very heart. Twenty seconds left. He dropped the journal on the floor, and it skidded a few feet ahead of him. With a last though being to reclaim it, so he might die with his life’s comfort, Stawswirl staggered forward but collapsed on the ground. Ten seconds. Reaching out one hoof while the other contorted painfully, he fell an inch too short of the book, his last action being a vain effort to secure his last words. Zero.
Starswirl the Young ran downstairs after hearing a loud crashing noise, only to find a dead old pony crumpled on the ground, pointing to an old book.
