Cards of Finality

by SwordTune

Chapter Zero

Time.

Tick tock, tick tock. We think of time as this sound. Starswirl did the day he woke up and began writing his time travel spell. Tick tock gave him the idea. Around and around like the hands of a clock, always coming back to where it began. Even the sound is circular, the tick and the tock in equal halves, balanced in their repetition. One ends, only to begin the other.

It made perfect sense when Twilight used the spell, now that we see it. Starswirl saw time's cyclic nature, and thus the spell created a loop in time. She traveled to change the past, but the loop was set and her actions only returned to the start of the cycle. The end became the beginning.

What an age he must have thought he lived in. Every great thinker thinks so.

The zebra must have thought her time was the end times, the great epoch of Equestria. When the Queen came, and her minions subverted the world, she explained to Twilight that time is like a stream, linear. Every little action changes the eb and flow of the water. What happens downstream is dependent on what happens upstream.

Starlight wanted to live in the loop, but didn't know what Starswirl had known. She lived through changes, from her loss of friendship to her leadership, and so time could not form a loop. How could it, when whenever it curves away from connecting itself when she changes? Perhaps she knew this, perhaps she didn't, but her life had always been the path forward.

The changes she made shifted the stream of time; her spell didn't know how to form the cycle, and thus is swerved and twisted, like a wave moving through a string.

Time can be a line and a circle, cause-and-effect and destined to happen. I cannot make sense of this. Do ponies not live in a life of choices? When Filthy Rich married his wife, he made the choice, and altered the path of the line. And then from that sprung Diamond Tiara, who teased and taunted and teased and taunted. But now not anymore. How can time be both? Do you see the pattern?

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Faith.

The first Caller is thought to be a rich and revered stallion, based on the pictures of gold and fine silks the crystal ponies had in their books. Twilight once spent a weekend in the Crystal Empire and read all about Caller Weaver, and had the same impression as the rest of the historians.

He wears large, heavy, silk robes and sits on a golden throne in the pictures and books. In the texts, he ate feasts that lasted days, cleverly managed his consumption so that he could enjoy as much as possible without feeling terribly bloated.

He achieved his position as a religious leader among early crystal ponies for his hard work. Back then, things were not easy. Storms, cold and biting, left little in the way of crops. Caller Weaver, then known as Reed Weaver, was said to have plowed his fields early every year so that he could help his neighbors, and his neighbors' neighbors. He preached cooperation, the scholars now say.

They grew crystal berries, and for a time, crystal yams. Nowadays there are no more crystal yams, and the cause remains a mystery to even the most learned scholars. But what they do know is that Reed Weaver's strength was valued in early crystal pony society, and it was Weaver's unending mission to stamp out laziness within their society so that his kind would always be hard working folk.

I knew Caller Weaver when he began building a following. He lived near the marketplace, but he was no salespony, no hard worker. He wandered the streets, going from stall to stall, with a basket on his back. When ponies were generous, they'd give alms, and then he'd have money to buy food to eat. When no alms were to be had, he'd sit in the market square and pray, thankful for the strength to persevere.

"Why are you praying?" he was asked one day, by Hammer Heart. She fashioned jewelry, and hammered silver ingots into shining bands.

"Why are you praying?"

He told her that he was thankful for all he had, and then resumed prayer. Some days, Caller Weaver would craft a new basket, and offer it to the ponies in the market. Some pony would offer to buy it, one whose shop was cluttered and overflowing with products. But Caller Weaver never accepted any money for services.

Hammer Heart joined him in prayer one day, thanking him for his gifts. "Who should I pray to?" she asked him.

He did not know, and told her that for years he had prayed, never hearing a word back. She guessed it was a test; no pony would dedicate their life to nothing. And so day after day, she joined him for prayer and lunch. Hammer Heart was regarded as a skilled jeweler, and respected among the crystal ponies of the marketplace.

Very soon, more began to join. Some were poor merchants, their businesses sinking, and sought solace in Weaver's wisdom. Others found misfortune in other ways, injuries and sickness, and sought the miracles of magic. Caller Weaver could only offer them prayers.

When he admitted to Hammer Heart the truth, that he had not heard answers to his prayers, she was understandably furious. Her diaries, the last of which was later burned by the rule of King Sombra, noted how his following dwindled very quickly when she shared this. But, to her surprise, a few remained.

Hammer Heart could not comprehend this. Perhaps a dozen still prayed endlessly with Caller Weaver, sending their words to the empty nature. Perhaps they were picked up by the icy storms, or perhaps the cold froze their words, so that they could not reach a higher power, but for whatever reason, Hammer Heart knew their faith did little but waste time.

Why did they continue?

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Trees

Five thousand years old, the oldest tree is. It predates the rule of the Two Sisters.

Trees and their forests are vital to Equestria, their leaves breathe in the air we breathe out, and their shady branches protect sensitive creatures from the harsh sun above. It's true; the undergrowth of jungles and forests have adapted to the dim lights of the sun. They have grown used to protection from the leaves above.

And, this may be the most interesting part, the forest does not behave like a cluster of organisms. It grows, it itself being one thing, alive. The squirrels and the bees move pollen and seeds, they carry them to new areas to be planted, an expand the forest. Sometimes, the forest eats, swallowing migrating birds, curious cats, hungry bears. They become food for the forest, living in and being a part of the organism, growing it.

Five thousand years ago a squirrel planted a seed, and the forest swallowed just the right birds, and the soil drank just the right rain. A strong, healthy tree grew, letting the lichen slowly grow on its bark. They decomposed all things and fed it back to the tree, which grew. A bear would perish in its old age, and be swallowed whole by the lichen and the roots.

And then the tree would make fruit, fruit who bore seeds and hitched rides with birds and squirrels, squirrels who carried the seeds farther and planted them in rich sunlight, so that the forest may grow with it. But the forest could only grow because it swallowed the right bird, who carried the right seed, which drank the right water, and met the right bear.

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Zero

I once listened to the voice of nothing

and marveled at how it made wonders

from the empty space down to earth

with only lights. Stars can sing.

A million words that none can hear

is spoken by the heavens. Look up.

You think you can know it, with sense

of sight, touch, and one from ear to ear.

But if it can never be known

the beings down below don't care.

Gears in a clock will always turn

even if it can't know its home.

It doesn't really matter what you think

you know. We cannot know if we are

intelligent and consciousness follows.

All we know is existing. Non-existence?

I once listed to the voice of nothing

A million words that none can hear

But if it can never be known

It doesn't really matter what you think

Comments

[firesnake47]

Okay, seriously. What is going on here? Haven't you bent our minds enough?!? Are you a philosopher in disguise or something?

[SwordTune]

8273015
I did study philosophy once.