“You do know where we’re going,” Meg droned. For the last ten minutes, she and the draconequus had been aimlessly wandering around the eerily deserted school. Discord could walk surprisingly fast given his unconventional anatomy.
At that particular moment, they were inside the school library. It resembled what was shown in Equestria Girls, right down to the computer workstations. As she had suspected, Twilight was exposed to human-like technology before stumbling upon the real thing.
“Not exactly,” Discord casually admitted as he looked around a book case. “It’s been a few millennia since I was last in here, and it’s undergone some… remodeling, you might say.”
Meg pondered this so-called “remodeling.” The lights were on and so were the computers. Where did the electricity come from? Who was operating the power plants if Discord made all the “pony reflections” disappear? Just how big or complete was this reality anyway? What was that object in the sky providing daylight? An actual star millions of miles away?
As much as these questions wished to be asked, Meg figured he either wouldn’t know the answers anyway—as he said, whatever was here had come into being while he was a stone statue—or he would decline to answer. But perhaps there was a question he could and would answer.
“When all this shaped itself around Sunset Shimmer, why was it based on Ponyville? As Celestia’s student, wouldn’t she have lived most if not all of her life in Canterlot?”
While she was asking that, Discord had been scanning some random shelf. He selected a book, opened it, and stuck his head into it—literally, his head went into a page and did not come out the other side. After a few seconds, he pulled his head back out. “Nope, that’s not it,” he said, and threw the book over his shoulder. The book sprouted wings and flew back to the shelf it came from, its wings retracting back into its hardcover as it slid back in. “Homing books,” he muttered derisively, rolling his eyes.
He thoughtfully turned to Meg, tapping a talon against his chin. “That’s an interesting question, actually.”
He mulled it over for a bit, until a lit lightbulb suddenly materialized above his head. “Aha! I got it! The Element of Magic. This realm reshaped itself in the image of the bearers when she brought it here.”
She wasn’t sure she totally bought that explanation, but he did create this place. He ought to know. “Then why was there no reflection of Twilight?” she wondered outlaid.
“Hers was the Element brought in here, representing her,” he said as he stuck his paw up in the air, extending a digit, as if checking which way the wind was blowing.
The air was motionless.
“But that does give me an idea. While the portal is open, this realm is locked in form. It can only reshape itself around a visitor when it was empty when the portal opened. If the Element forced it to change when it entered, that could be the cause of the damage.”
He set about rotating his arm about in various orientations, digit still extended, searching for what, Meg hadn’t a clue. Finally, he pushed his arm down into the floor, phasing through it like it wasn’t there.
“Ah, this looks interesting…”
He waved his paw around, beneath the floor, then froze. “Found it!”
“Found what?”
He pulled his arm out of the floor. He paw was empty; whatever he had found, it wasn’t something he could grab. “Nothing you’d understand,” he said with just a touch of condescension.
Not that he was wrong, probably, but he could have been a bit more tactful about it.
Discord walked over to the other side of the library, and stuck his eagle claw into the air and… it vanished, as if passing through a portal, though none could be seen.
“Something else I wouldn’t understand?”
He seemed to be manipulating something, though whatever it was he was doing, it was invisible. He paused long enough to sigh and to say, “Yes, if you can only think three-dimensionally.”
He finished his manipulations and pulled his arm out, focusing his attention on Meg. “I know I’m not always pleasant to be around, but you could do better yourself.” His eyes held not anger or displeasure, but disappointment.
“I-I don’t understand.”
He began climbing invisible stairs, talking as he went. “You still haven’t visited me, for example.”
“But, I don’t know where you live.”
“Did you think of asking Fluttershy?”
“Uhm… she knows where you live?”
He reached the top step, or at least he stopped climbing once he was about five feet off the floor. “Why wouldn’t my best friend know where I live?” Once more his arm entered an invisible portal.
“Well, to be honest, it never occurred to me to ask her.” Which in hindsight, was the obvious thing to at least try—and she might have, too, if she had actually planned on visiting him. She hadn’t even gotten back to Fluttershy about attending one of their tea parties, though to be fair things have been rather hectic.
“If it makes you feel any better, it never occurred to Twilight either.”
Meg didn’t know if it did make her feel better or not. While Discord was distracted with his work, she tried touching the invisible stairs. Her pale orchid hand passed through empty air. Figures.
Discord finished whatever he was doing and came back down the stairs. He walked past Meg and towards the exit. “Most ponies are still afraid of me,” he said with a touch of sadness. “I’d hope you’d be different, since you’ve seen the cartoon. You know I’m not like that anymore.”
He stopped at the exit, waiting for her to come along.
“I’m not afraid, exactly,” she rationalized, “but you can be… intense.” She walked towards him. “What do you know about the cartoon anyway?”
He smirked. “Enough.”
That so begged the question. As much as she wanted a real answer, she’d have no better luck getting it from him than getting one out of Celestia—at least the princess was polite about it. I’ll tell Celestia and let her deal with him.
Assuming she didn’t know already.
It was unnerving dealing with entities endowed with thousands of years of experience.
No, better to remain on his good side, and besides he did have a point. “Once this is over with, I promise to pay you a visit. I’ll even see to it that Twilight comes too.”
He went into the corridor, and with a renewed spring to his step headed towards the main entrance. “We could make it a tea party! Kill two birds with one stone, as you humans like to say.” In a suddenly foreboding tone, he warned, “Don’t ever say that in Fluttershy’s presence.”
Yeah. That kind of went without saying.
Meg followed Discord into the courtyard and to the statue, coming to a halt not in front of it, where the portal to Equestria was, but behind it. “You might want to wait for me here,” he said, not really caring whether she waited or followed.
His head passed into the base of the statue. Another portal? Before anymore of him passed through, Meg asked, “Where does that go?”
He pulled his head back out, and impatiently said, “Into the hyperspace between our realms.” He was about to enter the portal again, but changed his mind, deciding to offer more of an explanation. “What I was doing back there, after I identified the nature of the damage, was getting this portal open.”
Enter hyperspace? Did she want to do that? How could she exist there, much less function? But then, how could Discord? Okay, silly question.
And while she currently had a humanoid body, she wasn’t actually, strictly speaking, human. Was she even physically real? Was anything in this realm physically real? It was all supposed to be a reflection of some sort, of one realm in the image of the other. However that worked.
If only Steve was here. He’d sell his soul for a chance like this, to be outside the universe.
Meg stalled while she tried to decide. “I’m surprised you didn’t teleport us here directly. That would have saved time.” Which I am now wasting… real smart.
“Teleporting isn’t a good idea while this portal is open,” he said as if stating water was wet. He stepped through the portal; he was done wasting time.
A split-second later, Meg followed.
Seconds remained before the President reached the RV.
Twilight came to a hard decision. “Cadance, please give the phone to Celestia.”
There was silence for a second. “I understand.” Her sister-in-law had been listening in, of course, and knew what was about to happen.
Fowler was the first to climb the steps into the RV, then Agent Reubens, and finally the President. They walked towards the table at which two ponies were seated, and upon which a doll rested.
Only two of them reached the table. The President froze in place as his eyes locked onto the ponies. “I’ll be damned.”
“Twilight,” Fowler began, “allow me to introduce Harold Serrell, President of the United States of America.”
Twilight gave a slight nod. “I am honored to meet you, Mr. President.” It seemed odd that the ruler of this land would go by such a plebeian title, one not much better than “Mayor;” that would have to be the subject of Meg’s next lecture.
“And, Mr. President, this is Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria.”
The President somehow unfroze his feet and slowly resumed walking. “You can just call me Harry. It’s not like this is an official function.”
“I second that sentiment, Harry.”
“And, uh, that’s Princess Celestia,” Fowler said.
Harry managed to make it to the sofa and plop down onto it. “You’ll have to forgive me. I may need a few minutes to catch my wits.”
“That’s okay, take your time,” Twilight said. “We’re kind of preoccupied ourselves right now.”
“Yes, so I’m told,” he said, looking at Fowler. “I’m not here to interfere with that. By all means give it your top priority.”
His gaze fell upon the doll. “So that’s the infamous doll. Gave one just like it to my granddaughter as a birthday present.”
“I’m sure Pinkie would be more than happy to autograph that one too,” Steve said. “Even throw her a party.”
That forced him to acknowledge the unicorn in the room. “You must be Steve Coleman, the human-turned-into-a-unicorn.”
“That’s right.”
He brought a hand to his forehead and rubbed it. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I cannot trust her to keep a secret.”
“I can sympathize, believe me.”
Twilight once more upped the pressure on the junction. How much longer are they going to take? She couldn’t keep this up much longer, not if she wanted to stay for a while and talk to their leader. Going back for another pill wasn’t an option either, as the Zephyr was far away from the city. She might have to use her backup plan.
The President put his hand down and looked Twilight in the eyes. “I’m sure you have high expectations, finally being able to talk to me, but I’m afraid you’ll need to lower them.”
Not exactly what she wanted to hear.
“So long as we keep your existence secret, there’s little we can do officially. I don’t know how knowledgeable you are about our system of government, but I’m sure the Colemans can explain it to you later.”
Celestia had been staying quiet, preferring to let Twilight take the lead, but she didn’t want them forgetting she was still there either. “To be fair, we have kept your existence a secret too.”
He was a bit surprised by that. “Not for the same reasons, I imagine, not that it really matters.”
“You can’t keep this a secret forever,” Steve pointed out. He was speaking to his President, though Twilight knew it applied to them as well.
“To be honest, I wish I could, even if it meant our two worlds remained separate. You can’t understand the problems your open presence here will cause. Hasbro’s reaction alone… may well be the least of my problems.”
Hasbro what now?
Questions like that could wait. “We are not here to interfere in your affairs,” Twilight tried to assure him. “There is much we wish to learn, but that doesn’t require an ‘open presence,’ as you put it.”
“And there is much you can offer us,” Serrell agreed, “and that’s our dilemma. Your ‘magic’ offers a means of dealing with our radioactive waste problem—and who knows what else. I can’t see how we can take advantage of that without revealing your existence.”
He turned to Steve. “To give you a proper answer, no, I don’t expect to keep it a secret forever. We just need time to get a handle on this, to figure out the best way to break the news, to keep the world from going berserk when we do.”
“But what about the inevitable leaks? Don’t too many know already?”
That provoked a snort. “Already happened. You know what the journalist did? He contacted his other sources; not to verify the existence of ponies in our world, oh no. The story he was after was why someone with obvious mental issues was permitted to keep his high-ranking job.
“Only himself to blame, really. He just wouldn’t admit it was a prank, that the photos were faked, no matter what.” He waved it away. “We managed to get it all sorted out, and it served as a useful lesson to everyone else.”
Twilight had to up the pressure on the junction yet again. She had hoped it wouldn’t be necessary, but she was running out of options. “Steve, I need you to take over. I can’t keep up this level of magical exertion for much longer.” It was why she had wanted Steve to cross over as a unicorn, not that he knew that.
“Y-You can’t be serious,” he stammered. “I can’t possibly cast a spell like that!”
I should’ve phrased that differently, she chastised herself. “You don’t have to cast it, it’s already there. You just have to feed magic into it.”
“Just feed magic into it,” he droned, not convinced.
It really wasn’t that big of a deal, but to be fair it wasn’t something he could have been expected to know, not having been a unicorn his entire life. “You can do this,” the alicorn said with conviction. “Consider this your lesson for today.”
Meg found herself in a void of absolute darkness. It was impossible to tell how big it was, but infinite seemed like a good bet. Behind her was the portal, a shimmering rectangle. In front of her was the draconequus, perfectly visible, somehow, despite the absence of light.
There was no ground beneath her, and she flared her wings instinctively. Wings? She looked down and back and confirmed she was her pegasus self.
“No illusions here,” Discord said. “It doesn’t get any more real than this.” He flapped his mismatched wings and drifted away.
Meg did likewise, and was half-surprised that her wings actually worked here. Where does this air come from, anyway? Nor was there any sensation of free-fall.
“And you should be very glad of that. Not even I can keep a non-magical creature functioning in this place.” He swept an arm at infinity. “This is the domain of raw, unbridled magic, and the laws of physics as you understand them are barely suggestions.”
Was he creating a bubble of “normality” for her? For himself, even? This “normality” had to have limitations, if it was insufficient for a non-magical creature.
They continued on into the darkness, the portal getting ever smaller behind them. I sure hope he knows where he’s going.
“Not even Twilight could handle this on her own—not yet anyway, not until she becomes a fully mature alicorn in a few centuries.”
Magic not even Twilight could handle. For all the speculation of hyper-dimensional string theories and universes spawning out of the quantum-foam, no cosmology ever proposed suspected that the void between universes was filled with magic. Meg once more looked into the infinite blackness, an infinity she now knew was full of magic.
Magic without end…
Three words that were awfully familiar.
But not the “tame” magic of Equestria. How did this “raw, unbridled” magic differ? Why did it differ?
They continued in silence for another minute. The portal had been reduced to a tiny pinpoint of light in the distance, a sole star in the sky.
Meg couldn’t stand it anymore. “How do you even know where you’re going? There’s nothing out here!”
Discord stopped and turned to face her. “Nothing?!” he shouted incredulously. “Your whole realm is right over there!” He pointed his… she couldn’t see the arm doing the pointing.
Spotting her confusion, he stopped pointing and his arm become visible again. “I should’ve known,” he said, shaking his head. “You can only see in three dimensions.”
“Well, yeah?”
“We’re in hyperspace, remember?” He sighed. “Here, let me rotate you.” He reached out with paw and claw and took hold of her, and rotated about some axis she couldn’t even fathom.
Once he had finished, before them was a plane seemingly extending to infinity in all directions, softly glowing a deep, practically ultraviolet, purple. It was impossible to tell how close it was or fast they were moving relative to it—for her, anyway. “That’s my universe?”
“No, that’s the barrier that surrounds it; more of a skin really.” He took on a professorial air. “When your realm underwent symmetry breaking, shortly after popping into existence from a random quantum fluctuation, it acquired a set of physical laws that happened to exclude magic. This skin is the boundary between the magic-less interior of your realm and the exterior, the point where the external magic is repelled.”
It resembled nothing more than the platonic ideal of a mathematical plane, utterly featureless and flat. Of course it’d look flat; it extended for billions of lightyears in all directions. The local space-time may be curved by gravity, but nowhere near enough to be visible.
Except, logically, this skin shouldn’t be a plane. It should be a very thin hyper volume, touching the three-dimensional volume of the universe at every point. She chalked it up to her seeing it edge-on with her limited 3D vision. She was practically blind out here.
Wait. He knows about symmetry breaking? That was something Twilight hadn’t known, of how the unified forces of nature broke apart shortly after the Big Bang, when the universe sufficiently cooled, thus establishing the laws of physics. He must have learned it from us, just like everything else he knows about human culture.
They flew along the skin for another minute. Meg idly wounded what would happen if she tried to pass through it. Probably nothing good. She’d be entering her universe like a piece of paper trying to enter a two-dimensional universe at a perpendicular angle—and that would have been the best case scenario.
They came upon a discoloration of the skin, a sort of tangerine. Discord stopped. “We’re here. Don’t move, or you might accidentally touch the wormhole.”
Meg didn’t say anything, but her face said it all.
With another sigh, Discord reached out and rotated her again. A glowing green tube came into view. Near the skin, it formed a swollen bulb, narrowing down to almost nothing as it made contact. She tried to follow it into the distance, back to Equestria, but it disappeared from view at some point.
A strong lavender glow emerged from the point of contact.
“That’s Twilight’s magic, isn’t it, constricting the flow into my universe.”
“I’m out of gold stars to give you, unfortunately,” he said absentmindedly as he closely examined the junction. He had been avoiding props ever since opening the portal to hyperspace. Was he constrained somehow?
The doll ought to be right there, at the point of contact, hyper-rotated out of her sight. “Hard to believe they’re all just a few feet away in some incomprehensible direction.”
He looked up from the junction to give her a sour look. “I need to concentrate, so I’d appreciate it if you could shut up for a minute.”
You really do need to work on your interpersonal skills. He had a point, she had to admit, so she kept quiet as he carefully tapped that bulb at various points.
Which gave her time to wonder what, exactly, she was seeing and how she was seeing it. It seemed all too likely that magic, probably Discord’s, was letting her see what would otherwise be un-seeable.
The lavender glow turned teal. Discord paused for a moment, considering this new development, then continued tapping. “Looks like Twilight has run low on magic and has gotten your husband to take over. Lucky for them I’m just about done.”
He used his eagle talons to snip the bulb from the skin and lifted it away, quickly pressing his lion paw against the skin of her universe where the bulb had been attached. He held it there for a few seconds, the tangerine discoloration fading. When he lifted his paw, the skin uncovered was indistinguishable from the rest. His claw still held the the bulb.
“Follow me.” He began flying away from the skin while carrying the bulb, back along the wormhole it terminated. “We need to get this away from your realm.”
Meg did as instructed, also remaining quiet. The absence of the expected “why” gnawed at him, until he answered the unspoken question anyway.
“Equestrian magic is strongly attracted to the magic vacuum in your realm. If I left this here, it would fall back and reattach.”
Meg figured it was now safe enough to talk. “So the Element inside the mirror realm somehow caused a magic leak at the Equestrian end, and the magic found its way to my universe.”
The bulb was beginning to shrink. With the attractive force lessening, the magic within was redistributing back up the wormhole.
A sudden thought hit Meg. “What about all the magic in Equestria itself? Is that attracted to my universe? Even if it’s far away, there’s an unimaginable amount of it.”
Discord gave her a big grin. “I do wish I had a gold star to give you.” He then muttered to himself, “though it’d be a lot more fun if you weren’t a pegasus.”
In other words, yes. And, somehow, she’d bet, that mirror realm prevented that from happening.
Meg looked back at the softly glowing, virtually infinite plane behind them, looking no different for the distance they traveled. She had no idea how far they’d come, or how fast they were moving. Or how they were even moving. It was unlikely they were “flying” in any normal sense of the word.
“Okay, perfect, you got it!”
Twilight was pleased with Steve’s progress. As she had thought, it was easy for him to lock onto that spell, being as it was related to his special talent. Sending magic into it, in and of itself, didn’t require much talent at all. She could now conserve the little magic she had left.
His horn glowed a steady teal. “I’m surprised. I thought it’d be much harder.”
The humans had been watching with rapt attention. “I can’t even begin to imagine what that must be like,” said the President.
Steve looked at them with a thin smile. “It’s a different way of experiencing reality, no question about it.”
The smile suddenly vanished, his attention drawn back to the doll. “Something’s happened… I’m not sure what…”
Twilight once again focused on the spell squeezing the junction… “It’s gone.” She looked up, not quite believing it. “They did it.”
Fowler ran over to a cabinet and retrieved the Geiger counter.
“It is gone,” Steve said, confirming Twilight’s assessment. “I can’t find a trace of the junction.” His horn stopped glowing.
Fowler shoved the specially modified probe at the doll and switched the device on. It clicked furiously. After a few seconds of the racket, she turned it off.
Twilight spoke to the phone. “Celestia, have they returned yet?”
“Not yet. It may take time for them to make their way back.”
That was a good point. She had no idea where they had to go inside that realm. “Have Cadance check the field around The Mirror.”
“I shall inform her.”
Twilight closed her eyes and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. It’s over. She didn’t fail. Sure, Meg and Discord weren’t back yet, but that was a technicality.
“Twilight?”
She kept her eyes closed. “Yes, Cadance.”
“The field strength has skyrocketed. It’s way above normal and still climbing.”
Her eyes shot open in alarm, then she realized what was happening. “That’s to be expected, I think. All the magic that was in transit is being forced back. Get Shining Armor to push some of it away from The Mirror, so it won’t be too intense when Meg comes back through.”
Discord, she had no doubt, could have handled it just fine.
“That’s a good idea. I’m finding it a little uncomfortable, myself.”
The fading sound of hooves against the crystalline floor came through as she left to fetch her husband.
“I find it… bracing,” Celestia said with some amusement. “I do wish my sister was here to experience this.”
It was further evidence Discord had succeeded. The newest princess turned her attention to the leader of this land. “I don’t know how much time I have left, before I’m forced to return home, but we could spend it discussing—” she cocked her head “—unofficial matters?”
He looked at his watch. “I have an hour before I have to leave, myself.” With a mischievous smile, he added, “I need to start recovering from my illness this evening.”
“Perhaps we could start with establishing an… unofficial communications channel?”
Serrell rubbed his chin. “Well, our phones seem to work in your world. I can’t even begin to pretend I understand how that’s possible, but I see no reason we can’t provide you with some of your own. Set you up with secure e-mail also.”
E-mail?
“We’ll help you with that,” Steve said innocently enough, but his ears were expressing caution.
It was not something humans were likely to pick up on, having immobile ears. She made a mental note to inquire about the potential problems. If all the princesses had their own phone, then they could easily contact each other no matter how far apart they were. There couldn’t be anything wrong with that, could there?
“And we should set up regular meetings,” Serrell continued. “It’s my understanding you can cross over anywhere you want?” With a touch of resignation, he added, “Even the White House?”
Twilight wasn’t sure how to answer that. Did they wish to reveal that much about how it worked? And yet, how to explain that they couldn’t cross over there, because they’ve never been there.
After a few seconds of silence, Celestia took the matters out of her hooves. “We can only cross over to places we’ve already been.”
Or to where the doll was, more or less, but that would no longer be the case.
“I see.”
The President got up and started pacing back and forth. He had a hard decision to make.
He stopped in front of the table. “Either I trust you, or I don’t; and even if I don’t, keeping you out of the White House isn’t likely to accomplish much but slightly delay the inevitable. I just pray you are all as portrayed in that cartoon.”
Steve gave him a curious look.
“I have a granddaughter,” he said in self-defense. “Hard not to have seen a few episodes.”
He sat back down on the sofa and fixed his gaze on Steve. “I highly recommend the White House public tour. Bit of a waiting list, and you’re supposed to request tickets through your Senator, but I think I can pull—”
Twilight suddenly found herself back in the grass field outside the Crystal Empire.
“Ponyfeathers.”
With one, final rotation, another flat plane seemingly extending to infinity in all directions lay in front of Meg. This one, however, was softly glowing in a deep red. The wormhole, what was left of it, swelled with returning magic, narrowing down to an approximately mirror-sized junction as it connected to the skin of Equestria’s realm. Around that junction, the color of the skin was tinted yellow.
“Equestria has magic, so why is there a skin?” she asked. It was a different color, granted, but what did the colors mean anyway? Did the skins actually radiate photons of a certain wavelength, or was it an artifact of magical sight?
Discord was straining hard against the end he held in his claw, forcing the magic back inside. For whatever reason, the magic was increasingly unwilling to flow. He paused for a moment to answer.
“Equestria’s laws of physics include magic, but not the type of magic that dominates out here. Some magic can pass through, very slowly, but most of it is blocked.”
She knew every universe potentially had a different set of physical laws. Apparently that also included the laws concerning magic.
The swelling had shrunk a bit while they were talking. He resumed pushing, keeping up the pressure.
Slowly, over several more minutes, he approached the skin, until, finally, the wormhole was no more. He slapped his paw against the yellowish skin and did something that restored the deep red color.
The draconequus wiped non-existent sweat off his brow. “That should take care of that.”
It was over. All that was left was to return to the portal. Wait a minute…
“If this is the skin of Equestria’s realm, then where’s the mirror realm? Shouldn’t we have passed through it or something?”
With a tired sigh, he rotated her one last time, bringing the portal back to the mirror realm into view, and the skin out of view. Of course it had to be there, as the two portals were right next to each other. “The mirror realm is inside the skin. It hides your realm from Equestria’s magic, letting just enough show through to keep the distance between our realms constant.”
Which implied the distance would not be constant if none showed through, cutting the attractive force to zero. And that almost certainly meant the distance would increase. The space between universes was supposed to be in a state of eternal expansion.
And it became clear why having a powerful magical artifact inside the mirror realm, with connections to similar artifacts within Equestria, was Not a Good Idea.
Discord went through the portal. Meg followed, becoming once again a sort-of-human in a somewhat-normal world. As incredible as that experience was, she had little desire to experience it again. It was not a place for either humans or ponies; it might not even have been a place for draconequi.
“I need to reset that portal,” he said. “You should go back through the mirror.”
Without waiting for a response, he headed back to the school.
Meg decided to take his advice. She went around to the front of the statue, and stepped through—
—and found herself being roasted alive from the inside. Before she could scream or collapsed to the floor, she suddenly found herself outside, far away from the enclosure.
Princess Celestia was standing in front of her, towering above the waving grasses. She must have teleported her away from… whatever that was. The pain was rapidly fading. There didn’t seem to be any permanent effect.
She looked up at the smiling princess. “W-What happened?”
“The returning magic piled up around The Mirror. You experienced a magical overload. I got you out in time to avoid injury.”
Returning magic. Of course. She should have thought of that. So should have Discord. Maybe he did, and didn’t think it’d be a problem. Probably wasn’t—for him.
Meg looked up into the trademarked serene face of the princess. It wasn’t a problem for her, either. What was it Discord had said? That apart from himself, only a fully mature alicorn could handle the raw, unbridled magic that existed between realms?
Her phone was floating nearby, glowing in the color of sunshine. “Steve! Are you there?”
Silence.
Celestia returned the phone to its owner. “They were there a moment ago.”
Meg plucked the phone out of the air and looked at the screen. “No signal.” The magic that made it work appeared to have failed.
“I fear Steve’s magic was interrupted by the teleportation. A round-trip to your realm should get it working again; if not, he’ll have to use his magic once more.”
Either way, there was only one thing to do. She couldn’t leave her husband wondering if anything bad had happened to her.
“Do you know where those plaid pills are?”
Celestia smiled. Her response was to teleport them back onboard the Zephyr.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she said as she turned to leave the observation lounge.
“It’s you, isn’t it.” A unicorn, with a mane the colors of a fiery sunset, addressed her. “The one who told me the Princess wished to see me.”
“Yes,” Meg simply said.
Sunset Shimmer returned her gaze to the endless grasslands outside. “I’d never believe any of it, if Celestia herself hadn’t told me.”
“I can imagine.”
Sunset’s reflection stared at her. “You really are a human? A real human?”
“Yes.”
“Is that how you actually looked?”
“No, the colors were all wrong. Humans don’t have pony colorations. The rest of me… I don’t know, actually. I didn’t have a mirror.”
Celestia returned with three pills floating beside her. “If you wish to see what real humans are like, why don’t you come with us?”
Three pills? “You’re coming, too?”
“Twilight ran out of magic and was forced to return, and your phone has lost its connection to your realm, so it is only proper that I attend, so as to conclude the preliminary discussions with your President.”
Wait. What? “Did you say ‘President?’”
Celestia levitated a pill to Meg and another to Sunset Shimmer, telling the latter, “Don’t swallow it yet.”
“President Serrell?” Meg asked again. “Who just became so sick that he had to…” The pegasus face-hoofed. “Of course.”
“The reports of his illness do seem rather… exaggerated.”
Celestia explained how the pills worked to Sunset Shimmer. Only Meg has been to their destination, so she would be the one to select it. It also meant she would have to remain a pegasus. Soon they were under the broiling Nevada sun, outside the circle of RVs, their droning air conditioners working overtime.
“No offense, Meg, but the mirror version was a lot more appealing.”
The pegasus began walking to the RVs—no, make that flying. The ground was too hot. No cooling potions either. They’d be inside soon enough. “None taken. This is the middle of nowhere, a huge desert. In the summer.”
When they reached the gap between two RVs, the helicopter they used the previous day became visible. Probably flew in from Vegas. There certainly wasn’t a presidential limousine present. Or an army of Secret Service agents. There was probably just the one that piloted the helicopter.
So which RV were they in? The curtains were all closed, keeping out the sun. The drone of the air conditions made it impossible to hear conversations from inside.
She was about to knock on the door of the nearest one when it suddenly opened, revealing an excited Agent Fowler, looking from pony to pony, not sure who to address first. She choose all of them. “Come inside, before you cook out there.”
She stepped aside to let the ponies enter. “When the call dropped, we were afraid something had happened.”
Meg entered first. “Something did, you might say.”
Princess Celestia followed. “Meg returned from The Mirror, and I had to emergency teleport her away from it.”
“Super concentrated magic is no fun,” Meg added. “The teleport deprived the phone of a signal, and so here we are.”
Sunset Shimmer entered last. She closed the door behind her, and stared at Fowler, the first true human she’d ever seen, as she walked by.
“Hello, Sunset Shimmer,” greeted the agent.
The unicorn froze. “You know who I am?”
Fowler shot a quick look at the princess, wondering if she had just made a serious mistake.
Celestia was unconcerned. “There are matters I have yet to explain, my former student. Accept for now that they do know.”
President Serrell was sitting on the sofa, contemplating the new arrivals. He’s really here. Reubens was there too, standing at attention on the far side, as if he could lift a finger in defense of his President against an alicorn—not that he’ll have to, fortunately for him.
He greeted her like the politician he was, leaning forward and holding out his hand, low to the ground. “You must be Meg Coleman. I have heard so much about you!”
The pegasus closed the last few feet between them and uncertainly placed a hoof in his hand. No hoof magic was needed as the President gripped and shook it. “The honor is all mine,” she said.
He let go, and as he watched in amazement, Meg flapped her wings, went airborne, and landed behind the table next to her husband.
“You’ll never believe what I experienced,” she whispered to Steve.
Celestia stepped forward, offering up a gold-shod hoof. “I do apologize for our conversation being interrupted.” It was now the President’s turn to uncertainly complete a handshake. “I cannot stay long, but I believe we were about finished.”
His gaze was fixed on the alicorn’s long, multi-color mane, flowing in an unseen and unfelt stream. His eyes broke free. “Uh, right… I think we covered all the important points.”
Celestia politely ignored the gawking and stepped aside, exposing her former student. “I’d like to introduce Sunset Shimmer. She’ll be joining the Equestrian team that will explore how our magic can be of benefit to you.”
The unicorn was once again frozen in place. “I will?”
Celestia gave her a bemused smile. “Can you name another pony as skilled in magic as you and with as much experience with human technology?”
“Uh… Twilight Sparkle?” With an awkward grin, she added, “Maybe?”
“Nowhere near as much as you,” Meg said. If Equestria Girls was even halfway accurate. And from what she saw, it probably was.
The thought of there being something she was better at than her successor was sufficient to unfreeze her. She moved past Celestia and bowed to the President. “It is an honor, Your Majesty.”
Serrell let out a laugh, much to Sunset’s surprise. “There are Kings in this world, but I am not one of them. You shouldn’t bow to me.” He addressed the ponies at the table. “You really do need to inform them of our political institutions.”
Meg bore a weak smile. “Yeah, one of many things they need to learn.” To Celestia and Sunset Shimmer, she said, “This nation does not have nobility or aristocracy. The President, here, was elected. He has about one and a half years left in office, nor can he run for reelection, not this time.”
“I’m turning into a lame duck, losing my ability to make a real difference.” A big grin erupted on his face. “But now… this will be one for the history books.”
“For both our realms, I’m sure,” Celestia added.
“Well,” Serrell said as he stood up. “I think we’re done here. But I do have one small favor to ask.” He quickly looked at Fowler and Reubens. “I’m the only one here who has yet to see Equestria. I’d like to see it—for just a minute or two.”
“You won’t see much,” Meg pointed out. “Just endless grasslands. A magical zeppelin.” A pause. “The Mirror…”
“I see no reason why not,” Celestia said equably. “And it’s not like this shall be your only visit. You have an open invitation to visit the palace in Canterlot.”
“Just be careful around that mirror,” Meg warned. “I have no idea what concentrated magic will do to humans.” Then again, possibly nothing.
“I’m sure Shining Armor has dispersed most of it by now, but I’ll make certain it’s safe first,” she assured Meg.
It was being dispersed, and it still had that effect on me? What would have happened if it hadn’t been partially dispersed?
Serrell clasped his hands and rubbed them. “I’m ready when you are.”
He vanished, along with Fowler, Reubens, and of course Celestia.
Sunset Shimmer was still there. She approached the table. “I guess we’ll be working together.”
Meg gave her an encouraging smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”