Princess Celestia is missing her memories, but some buried things weren't meant to be unearthed.
With Princess Luna free of the Tantabus, Princess Celestia is ready to reveal an ancient secret to her sister and Twilight Sparkle: she is missing a large swath of her memories. Celestia has been unable to restore them by herself, so she will need the help of her friends to recover the missing details of her past.
Unfortunately, some buried things were not meant to be unearthed.
Three royal ponies sat together on a small, artificially-flattened grassy hilltop in the Canterlot Castle Gardens. The blanket they lay upon was set with a spread of pastries and hot tea. A large curtain had been erected on one side of the garden to block the Eastern area from view. Patches of charred earth could be seen here and there along the curtain's base.
"It's nice they were able to save the South Gardens from the fire," said Princess Celestia, gesturing at the lush greenery that surrounded her. "I've missed communing with nature, and I don't feel like leaving the grounds just yet."
"Baby steps, dear sister," said Princess Luna. "On the bright side, landscapers across Equestria shall have stable employ for the next few years."
Princess Twilight Sparkle shifted uncomfortably where she sat. Her magic levitated the teakettle as she made several false starts toward pouring a cup of tea.
"Twilight, is everything alright?" Celestia asked gently.
Twilight sighed and set the kettle back down, then looked up to her former mentor. "I don't know. I came here to offer my friendship and support, but I kind of feel like I'm intruding," she explained. "Wouldn't you two rather be alone right now?"
"Nonsense. My sister and I have all the time in Equestria to speak in private. Your presence is most welcome this morn," said Luna.
"Luna is right. I'm pleased to have you here with us. There is much I need to share with both of you," said Celestia. She reached out with a hoof and caressed Twilight's cheek with the back of her greave, eliciting both a blush and a look of surprise from the young mare. "There aren't many ponies who can relate to the tribulations of being a princess, after all. Although, I hope you haven't been waiting in Canterlot the whole week?"
Twilight shook her head and finally poured herself a cup of tea. "No. Not really, I mean. I did stop by last week, but I wasn't allowed to see you, so I went back to Ponyville."
Princess Celestia finished a croissant. She dabbed at her lips with a silk napkin, the smile fading from her muzzle. "I assume everypony in Equestria knows by now," she said, staring glumly down into her teacup as though examining the rising steam for some hidden message. "It's been a week since the incident, and I'm still afraid to look at the tabloids."
"Our subjects are concerned and hopeful, dear Sister. They look up to us as they always do," said Princess Luna, with a dismissive wave of her hoof. "There is no shame to bear."
Twilight nodded. "I take it you haven't seen the front steps of the castle yet?" she asked.
Celestia shook her head, then gently blew across the surface of her tea. "I've asked the staff not to mention anything outside the castle walls for the time being."
"Well, the whole area is littered with flowers and cards," said Twilight. "It's a testament to how much Equestria loves you."
"Indeed. The flotsam piles high against both sides of the walkway. It remains difficult to enter and exit without your neglected adoration getting underhoof," said Luna. "We should go visit it soon, at least for show."
"That's very nice. We should," said Celestia, and her shoulders relaxed noticeably. She took a sip of tea.
"You were under a lot of pressure, you got upset, and you needed a break. It happens to everypony," said Twilight.
"I suppose nopony is perfect," said Celestia, her visage retreating to the practiced, soft smile of a diplomat.
"Not even princesses?" said Luna, rakishly raising a brow.
"Especially not princesses," stressed Celestia, and for the briefest moment, her smile lifted into a genuine grin. "So Twilight, what has Luna told you?"
"Not much," she said. "Since my friends and I helped Luna destroy the Tantabus, I already knew she'd been using it to torture herself, which was pretty crazy. No offense."
"None is taken," said Princess Luna. "It was quite mad of me to do such a thing, and I regret my actions."
"Then when Luna told you what she'd been using the Tantabus for, you became a little, um..." said Twilight, pausing to select the best word. "Agitated?" she offered, with a sheepish smile.
Princess Celestia drew in a long, cleansing breath before speaking. "Twilight, it is important that you understand the significance of Luna's use of the Tantabus on herself. That monster was created from a shard of Nightmare that lodged itself in my heart when I banished Nightmare Moon. The Tantabus had been torturing me for a millennium." She paused to take an uncharacteristically slow sip of tea.
Luna took this as her cue. "As you no doubt recall, I did not have my mantle when I returned to Equestria," she said, pulling her magical mane to the side with a hoof as it rippled and twinkled with all the beauty of the night sky. "However, within a few months I had earned it back. With my powers fully restored, I was able to enter my sister's dreams and free her from the clutches of the Tantabus."
"I see. And then you used it to torture yourself instead. I guess it really was an act of penance," said Twilight. "Wow. I'm glad we were able to help put this thing behind you."
"It's been more than a thousand years. I believe it is high time the two of us began living in the present," said Princess Celestia. She smiled at her sister, and there was a slight shine to her eyes.
Princess Luna smiled cheerfully in return, then turned to Twilight. "Princess Twilight Sparkle, you are now current on the events as I know them," said Luna. "It is up to my sister whether she wishes to divulge anything more."
"It's just Twilight, please," said Twilight, and Luna nodded. "And you don't need to talk about anything you don't want to," she directed to Celestia.
"No. This is something I should have shared with both of you, three years ago." Princess Celestia set down her teacup and looked to her friends, her face serious. "The garden has been cleared of visitors so that the words I say can be kept in strict confidence."
For a brief moment, the only sounds were birdsong on the wind, and Twilight Sparkle choking on a very improperly-timed bite of cookie.
"I retain no memories of the millennium of Nightmare Moon's banishment," revealed Princess Celestia. "The last thing I can remember is staring up at the Mare in the Moon for the first time."
Twilight took a loud minute to choke and cough her throat clear of crumbs, then looked over to Luna. The younger of the two alicorn sisters stared at the elder, her jaw hanging agape.
Luna remained dumbstruck long enough for Twilight to fully recover. "Wait. That doesn't make any sense," said Twilight, punctuating the assertion with a final, small cough. "You're telling us you can only remember the past three years? When did your memories disappear?"
"I don't know. They've been absent since Luna's return," said Celestia.
"How in Equestria have you been able to hide this from everypony?" asked Twilight. She took a quick gulp of tea to quell her irritated throat.
"With great difficulty and planning, Twilight. Until this moment, only my personal secretary Raven and I have known the truth," said Celestia. "Apparently, every sixteen years I cast the Lethe spell to wipe my memories of the previous sixteen-year period. It's the only way I've been able to manage the pain of the Tantabus during my sister's absence."
Luna finally closed her jaw, blinked a few times, and entered the conversation. "Naturally, I know the mythology of Lethe, the Spirit of Oblivion. However, I know of no such spell," said Luna.
"Technically, neither do I," said Celestia. "According to my notes, I cast the spell on the Tree of Harmony a millennium ago. All I need to do now is perform a simple ritual beside the Tree once every sixteen years. Doing so at the proper date and time reactivates the spell."
"You leave notes for yourself? Right, I guess you'd have to," said Twilight.
"In extensive detail," added Celestia, pausing to lift the cup back to her lips and take a sip of tea. "The two weeks leading up to every sixteenth Summer Sun Celebration are spent ensuring that my diplomatic and personal records are as complete as possible before I 'renew myself', so to speak. Then I go to the tree, perform the ritual, and return to Canterlot on the eve of the Celebration. Fortunately, the Summer Sun Celebration's ceremonies are so simple I need not memorize anything in advance."
"What are your earliest memories of the current era, if I may inquire?" asked Luna, before biting into a scone.
"I remember waking in front of the Tree of Harmony in the Everfree Forest. To my surprise, the Elements were missing from it, and the castle ruins were nearly unrecognizable," said Celestia. "A small scroll lay beside me, which read, 'Return to Canterlot immediately to prepare for this year's Summer Sun Celebration'."
"Wait..." said Twilight, as the gears in her head began to turn. "That's why you sent me that letter rebuffing my warning about Nightmare Moon's return, isn't it? You really didn't remember the legend!"
"You are correct, Twilight. Your scroll arrived while I was foraging berries, which made for a simple ink," said Celestia. "I was able to use the back of the scroll to return your message. From my point of view, I had just met and dealt with Nightmare Moon mere minutes ago. Your message and my environs together suggested that I had been transported forward through time. It was daylight, after all, and I did not remember raising the Sun. But daylight also implied that Nightmare Moon had not yet returned."
"Hmm. Well, I guess my message told you who I was. But you responded with detailed instructions," said Twilight.
"As an experienced diplomat, I am aware of the intrinsic value of information," said Celestia. "I was acting under the assumption that something bad had happened, since the Elements were neither on my pony nor in the Tree. Your letter could have been a ruse by one of Equestria's enemies—we had plenty of them during that era of our nation's history. I didn't want to tip my hoof that I didn't fully understand the message, so I responded as quickly as possible with general suggestions."
"The clever mare as always," said Luna, between cookies. "By stating general facts, you would not reveal the full extent of your ignorance. Yet, your recipient would be likely to correct the missing portions by supplying more information to you."
Twilight scrunched her muzzle up in thought. "I'm still confused. In the letter, you told me to forget the legend about Nightmare Moon's return. You said you had a new assignment for me, which was supervising the Celebration in Ponyville," she said. "Also, you told me I needed to make friends."
"I didn't know what the Celebration was, but assigning you to supervise it was the best bluff I had available. As for the advice? Everypony needs friends, Twilight. It was clear from the tone of your letter that you were a highly self-reliant young pony. If this truly were a letter from my personal student, suggesting they consult other ponies would surely help them to solve whatever problem they were facing," said Celestia. "But if, as I suspected, the message were some manner of trick, a rapid response would hopefully delay my antagonists or at least convince them to give me more information. Either way, I needed time to locate the missing Elements before the prophecy you mentioned came to pass."
Princess Luna swallowed the remains of a biscotti before speaking. "One issue yet remains. Ponyville did not exist one thousand years ago," she pointed out.
"I didn't mention Ponyville. I just asked Twilight to supervise preparations for the Celebration in 'this year's location'. I assumed it was happening in Canterlot," said Celestia. "I later learned Raven had already asked to have the Ponyville Library vacated for your stay."
Twilight Sparkle rolled her eyes. "Ugh, Spike must have ad-libbed the word 'Ponyville' while reading me your letter. I hate it when he does that! See the sorts of confusion even the tiniest lack of attention to detail can cause?"
Luna chuckled briefly at Twilight, then turned her attention back to her sister. "It does seem odd you would not notify Twilight prior to your 'cleansing' that she would be supervising the Celebration," she said.
"That's the only part I don't understand. My notes say nothing about plans for Twilight to supervise the Celebration," said Celestia. "There isn't any mention of the prophecy in my notes, either. Some of the records from the earlier cycles have missing pages. I suspect at some point I destroyed that information, but I can't imagine why."
"So it's just random coincidence that Raven planned for me to supervise the Celebration at the same time that you blindly gave me the assignment?" asked Twilight, her eyes narrow with skepticism.
Princess Celestia shrugged. "The Tree of Harmony has a storied history of mediating destiny," she offered. "The force that drew you to Ponyville is undoubtedly the same one which fated you to meet your friends when you each received your cutie marks from the first Sonic Rainboom."
Luna's face soured. "This also explains what you were doing in the old castle ruins when Nightmare Moon found you there, Sister. I have vague memories of being that monster. They are not unlike memories of a true nightmare," said Luna, and she shivered at the thought. "Even what the Tantabus did to me pales in comparison."
Twilight took a sip of tea, then set down her cup. She knitted her brow tightly and looked up to Celestia. "Why did you keep this a secret from us for so long?" she asked. "Once you were free of the Tantabus, there was no need to hide any of this, was there?"
Princess Celestia closed her eyes and paused for a few seconds. Her lower lip twitched slightly. "Guilt," she finally said, as she reopened her eyes. "I feel guilty for losing my memories of you, Twilight. I didn't want to admit it to you, and I didn't want you to find out from anypony else. I knew I'd need to tell you eventually, but I kept putting it off. After all, it seemed a modest burden compared to what the Tantabus had been doing to me."
"Ah. So this secret was yet another straw upon the donkey's back," Luna postulated.
Celestia nodded. "I think so, yes. Apparently, keeping this to myself weighed on my soul more heavily than I'd imagined it could. Recent events seem to illustrate that even alicorns have our limits."
The look on Twilight's face slowly drifted from confusion to horror. "Oh my Stars... You don't remember me being your student," she realized. Twilight turned her face away from Celestia and toward Canterlot Castle. Her voice quivered in her throat as she spoke. "You know... For the past three years, you seemed so distant. At first I thought it was some new kind of test, but after about a year... I guess I decided the closeness I felt with you growing up wasn't real."
"I'm so sorry," said Celestia, as she reached out with a hoof to turn Twilight's chin back toward her. The younger mare looked like she was holding back tears, and would not meet Celestia's gaze. "Out of everything I've endured, losing my memories of you pains me most. It's like I erased your childhood and the all of the lessons we learned together. You deserve better."
Twilight grimaced. "I guess it's not your fault," she whispered, looking up into Celestia's eyes for a fraction of a second before lowering them again.
"Isn't it? I wasn't strong enough to avoid casting the spell, even though I knew it would erase the details of our relationship from my mind," said Celestia, and then her voice grew resolute. "Twilight, I want you to know that what I am about to tell you is not something I say lightly. My notes from the previous cycle speak of you in the highest possible regard. I've never known a pony with your raw talent and drive to succeed. Even though I didn't appear to know about the prophecy of my sister's return, I speculated you would someday find a way to bring her home. I recorded dozens of detailed anecdotes from my experiences with you. I was very fond of you, Twilight Sparkle. I cherished the moments we spent together."
Twilight nodded and sniffled, then wiped at her watery eyes with a hoof.
Luna cleared her throat noisily. "Forgive me for steering the conversation at hoof away from the maudlin and toward cold logic, but I believe steps should be taken at once to restore your memories, Sister," said Luna.
"I agree, of course. I've already tried by myself, but with limited success," said Celestia. "Immediately upon reviewing my notes from the previous cycle, I told Raven of my intentions to recover my memories. She was adamant that it could be disastrous, and as the sole link to my previous self, I followed her advice. However, once you freed me from the Tantabus, I made an attempt to recover my memories without telling Raven. Curiously, the spell was only able to restore my memory of the first four years following Nightmare Moon's banishment."
"What did you learn?" asked Twilight, as curiosity quickly edged the sadness out of her voice.
"Very little. I remember the initiation of the Summer Sun Celebrations, and the initial renovations to Canterlot. I suffered the Tantabus nightly, despite all magical and medical attempts at aid. So I slipped into a deep depression," said Celestia. "Star Swirl the Bearded made his prophecy that Luna would return in a thousand years, but it did nothing to cheer my mood. I couldn't handle the thought of waiting that long, as each day seemed longer than the last. Shortly prior to the fourth Summer Sun Celebration was the first time I cast the Lethe spell."
Twilight looked up into the air and her eyes darted back and forth as though she were reading an invisible book. "No, that doesn't fit," she said. "Even if there were a Year Zero..."
"There was a 0 Anno Solequus," interjected Luna. "The first Celebration was held one year after our defeat, and due to superstition, scholars insisted on renaming that initial year."
"...yes, I know that," said Twilight, rolling her eyes. "All I mean is that it doesn't matter because we're counting backwards from 1000. Since 1000 modulo 16 is 8, either you didn't reliably cast the spell every sixteen years like clockwork, or the first casting should have occurred one day prior to the Celebration of 8 A.S. That's at least four years later."
"Your math is correct, of course. My first casting of Lethe in 4 A.S. seems to have been a trial run with the spell. I didn't use the Tree of Harmony to cast it then," said Celestia. "The spell was supposed to suppress enough memory to remove the traumatic events from my mind. This removed all of my memories back to the point where the Tantabus infected me. It did not, however, remove the Tantabus."
"The spell you describe would not be flexible enough to use repeatedly for an entire millennium, even if the Tree of Harmony were used as a focus," said Luna. "You must have modified it significantly, or used a different spell entirely."
Princess Celestia slowly bobbed her head in agreement, the glowing pastel hues of her mane flowing gently behind her despite a lull in the breeze. "That is true. Unfortunately, I don't have a transcription of either spell in my notes. All I have is a short letter written in 8 A.S. which describes my plan to recast the spell every sixteen years. It provides the ritual used to activate the spell, but that's all."
Twilight pursed her lips in thought, then smiled brightly. "I just realized something. If the two of us cast your memory restoration spell in conjunction with you, we should be able to recover the rest of your memories!"
"Yes. I was thinking along the same lines, hence my suggestion to proceed," said Luna. "In point of fact, even if the Tree of Harmony were involved, only two alicorns should be necessary to overcome the resistance of a spell cast by but one alicorn."
Celestia nodded. "That's what I want to try today," she said, then turned back toward her former student. "Twilight, even though my memories of you are what I miss most, I feel it would be best to perform the casting privately with Luna. Being awash in a millennium of experiences will no doubt be overwhelming, and I know Luna far better than anypony else."
"I understand," said Twilight, and she clenched her jaw for a moment. "You want to do this the right way, and it will be safer if it's just you and Luna present. You'll come and tell me as soon as you know, right?"
"Of course," said Luna. "We should perform the casting in Celestia's bedchambers, and you may wait elsewhere in the castle."
"Excellent," said Celestia. "I very much hope it works. I'm looking forward to getting to know you better, my faithful student."
Twilight smiled wanly. "Well, even if it doesn't work, I think I've grown so much over the past three years that you probably know me even better now than you did back then," she admitted. "It would be a lot worse to lose the past few years. Even today's experiences have been valuable for me."
Celestia nodded, and placed a warm wing around Twilight. "I feel the same way. I owe you a persistent memory, Twilight, and I look forward to the years yet to come. I have no doubt they will be even brighter still."
Luna stood up. "I see no reason to dawdle further. Let us commence at once."
Twilight and Celestia exchanged a quick glance, and all three headed back to the castle.
Four knocks in rapid succession left no doubt as to the pony on the other side.
"Come in, Luna," called Princess Celestia.
Princess Luna stepped inside and closed the bedchamber door behind her. Celestia was currently seated on her spacious canopy bed. Philomena offered a friendly squawk to Luna from her cage.
"Twilight is resting in the Palatial Suite," said Luna, after a brief nod to the bird.
"You put her to sleep, you mean," said Celestia, giving her sister a cross look. "I assume that's what took you this long."
"She asked me to!" said Luna, defensively. "More or less, anyway. The poor thing was mumbling powers of two under her breath; probably a compulsive habit due to anxiety. After several minutes of cajoling, I offered to help her to unwind, and she consented."
Celestia sighed and lay back onto the bed. "Lulu, do you think she hates me?" she asked.
Luna laughed. "You must be joking! Celie, nothing could be further from truth. That pony worships the earth you clop upon," she said. "Even moreso, now that she understands why you have been keeping her at a leg's length. Although..."
Celestia sat up. "What is it?" she asked.
Princess Luna sat on the edge of the bed next to her sister and brushed her mane to the side. "Since your release, your guard has been lowered in the company of friends. I regard this as a good thing. That said, it has brought something new to my attention," said Luna. "You feel things for the filly, do you not?"
A deep blush met Celestia's cheeks. "There aren't many ponies in whom I can confide, and she reminds me of a young navy-pelted pony I once knew," she said.
"That is most sweet. Compliment accepted," said Luna, with a smile. "But with regard to Twilight Sparkle: do you believe you felt this way about her prior to your last 'renewal'?"
"Based on the strength of what I wrote about her in my notes, I suspect I probably did," said Celestia. "It worries me. A crush on Twilight from before seems rather... repugnant."
"Repugnant? I fail to see why."
"Her age, of course, not to mention the fact she was my student," said Celestia.
"Ah," said Luna, with a mischievous smile. "Fear not: you are still robbing the cradle. Even if she is mostly an adult now, you remain hundreds of times older than she."
"Hmph. That isn't fair. For the moment, I can only remember dozens of times," said Celestia, and then her voice dropped in timbre. "Perhaps I'm better off this way."
Luna's eyes widened. "You are getting cold horseshoes about recovering your memories!" she accused. "Wherever for?"
Princess Celestia looked away from her sister. "The only thing I know for certain is that, right now, I'm happier than I can remember being since foalhood," she said. "And there is the matter of history repeating itself."
"Sister, I believe that is the problem we are attempting to resolve," said Luna.
"Not that history. I mean my relationship with my students."
"Go on," prompted Luna, a curious look on her face.
"My notes chronicle mistakes I've made at the beginning of each cycle," she said. "There is one mistake I keep repeating, despite dozens of warnings. Almost every time I take on a protégé, I lose them after the next renewal," said Celestia. "Just for the most recent example, my previous cycle began on 984 Anno Solequus. I've already told you about Sunset Shimmer, haven't I?"
"Yes," said Luna, her ears drooping. "Such a sad case."
"I took her under my wing in 972 Anno Solequus. In the Autumn of 984 A.S., mere months after the Lethe casting, Sunset requested a sabbatical. She seemed to need a break, so I granted it," said Celestia. "My notes were extensive, but insufficient for me to read her emotions correctly. I thought the filly was shy, because she was afraid to look ponies in the eye when speaking to them. Only too late did I learn that I was the only pony whose eyes she would not meet. She never returned from that sabbatical."
"Sister, you cannot be certain this was your fault," said Luna. "There are many reasons the young mare could have been a poor fit for your tutelage. Some of the burden must lie with the student."
Celestia sighed. "Perhaps, but the student before her left no room for doubt. When I accepted Starlight Glimmer as my protégé in 960 A.S., I hadn't attempted to take on a student in more than a century's time," she said. "That filly was extraordinary, which is why I took her in despite her being almost two years past the standard entrance age. In some ways she had more raw power than even Twilight."
"That is... disconcerting."
"Then, Lethe was cast in 968 Anno Solequus. This time, I managed to keep her as my student for a few years after the memory loss, but one day she left without any warning. She didn't even bother to say goodbye. Instead, she left this." Celestia reached out to the bedside table and lifted a note that had been lying there.
The note looked as though it had been scribbled in haste.
Dear Princess Celestia,
I realize now that our 'friendship' was just a one-sided lie. I'm a foal for trusting you for so long. For a while there, I actually thought we were close. I thought you viewed me as a peer rather than a subordinate.
You think you're better than everypony else because you're powerful. Well, I'm not any less important to Equestria just because I'm not an alicorn princess. I deserve to be treated with equal respect. Everypony deserves to be treated equally. That's what true friendship should be. Someday I will make you see that.
I hate you.
–Starlight Glimmer
Some of the writing was mottled by small drops of water. Some of the drops were fresh.
"Oh, dearest Sister..." Luna whispered, hoofing back the note.
"And do you know the worst irony of all? I didn't want to keep this note. I wanted to burn it," admitted Celestia. "But I had no choice. This is something I must remember, even if I don't want to. I can't get rid of this letter, because having it is the only way I'll remember. It's... evidence," she said. Her eyes shimmered, and she turned her head away from Luna as she placed the note back on the table.
"Celie, someday you shall set things right," said Luna, craning her neck slightly to get a better look at her sister's face. "The sooner we restore your memories, the sooner we can mend these fences."
"She's still out there," Celestia continued, with a sad smile. "Last I heard, she enslaved a small village and tried to kill Twilight. I doubt we've seen the last of her."
"I do not wish to be a broken recording cylinder, but we need to make you whole again, sister. Every story you tell illustrates precisely why this is so important," said Luna.
"But are you sure it's the right choice?" said Celestia. She turned back to Luna. Princess Celestia wasn't crying, but her eyes looked very tired, like a pony who hadn't slept in a week. "I'm starting to think ponies weren't meant to live for hundreds of years like this. What if the damage caused by mistakes and errors accumulates over time? No pony being has lived as long as I have, Lulu. Saddling myself with many lifetimes' worth of weight could drive me completely mad. It might be impossible."
Princess Luna paused for a moment, and stared nervously at the wall. Then she turned back to face her sister, with a look of firm resolution on her face. "No matter how large the ocean is, remembering things will not make you a different pony, dear sister," soothed Luna. "You are only the boat that rests upon the waters."
"I'm not certain that's true," said Celestia. "The experience of consciousness is tied inextricably to a coherent set of remembered events. Our memories are a large part of who we are as ponies."
"Yes, yes, I know," said Luna, waving a hoof in the air. "I have read Twilight's dissertation on the topic. But it matters not. Even if the memories have been locked away from your mind, the pony you have become because of those experiences is the pony that sits beside me now."
Princess Celestia sighed and swallowed an empty throat. "When I read my notes from cycles past, it feels like they were written by an entirely different pony. Or, different ponies, even," whispered Celestia. "It's hard to explain."
"I know you are afraid, Celie. That is normal," said Luna. "But think of Twilight Sparkle. Your feelings for her surely are influenced by your past experiences with her, whether or not you can remember them. Your love carries over."
"Well, perhaps. It makes for a tempting fiction to blame my feelings for Twilight on experiences I can't remember, but I'm not convinced. Once I go through with this, there won't be a convenient flaw within me anymore that I can blame my feelings on," said Celestia. "I'll need to take responsibility for my emotions, even if they seem overwhelming and foreign."
Luna leaned in against her sister and booped their muzzles together. "My darling sister, welcome to being a pony," she said with a smile, then leaned back and cupped a wing around her withers. "I can promise you that your friends will be here by your side to help you with those emotions. So, shall we proceed?"
Princess Celestia leaned into her sister and gave her a firm hug, then lay back onto the bed. "Let's get this over with," she said. "You know how to cast the spell, I presume?"
Luna nodded. "It is a classic. I have used it many times to recover dream memories, even over the past year."
"All right then. Here goes everything," said Celestia, and her horn began to glow.
Princess Celestia opened her eyes. "Ouch. I think I'm getting a migraine," she mumbled.
"You were unconscious for several minutes. I presume it will take time for the sheer quantity of memories you have locked away to coalesce into an accessible series of events," said Luna, gently brushing Celestia's cheek with an unshod hoof.
Celestia slowly sat up in bed and stared into space, a quizzical look on her face. "Right now I can remember... another four years, up through 8 Anno Solequus. That can't be all there is," she said, and winced as she placed a hoof to her temple. "Ah. No, wait a moment..."
Luna sat next to her sister, studying her face in silence. Celestia closed her eyes, and her face became a mask of intense concentration. A minute passed, then two.
Then her eyes opened wide and her jaw trembled.
"Celie?" asked Luna. "Are you okay?"
"Oh, oh no. Luna, I've... I've done something terrible," she whispered, and somehow, the snow-white pelt across her muzzle seemed even more pallid.
"All is forgiven, sister, no matter what it is," said Luna. The words came rapidly, and sounded well-rehearsed.
"This was a mistake," said Celestia, and her breathing quickened to the point of hyperventilation.
"Sister, listen to my voice. Whatever you did in the past, you are not that pony anymore," insisted Luna. She began to stroke against Celestia's back with her leg in a circular motion. Several tense minutes passed with Celestia saying nothing as Luna awkwardly rubbed her sister's withers.
Finally, Princess Celestia's body relaxed into the massaging. "I suppose you are right," she said, though her voice sounded like a pony defeated. "What's done is done, after all. At least now I know. I think I will need to keep seeing that therapist for a while, however."
Luna exhaled a large sigh of relief and dropped her leg to the bed. "Thank the Moon. Yes, yes, that is a most excellent idea," said Luna. "Now, Celie, you need not immediately tell us what troubles you about your memories. And I suppose you need not ever tell us, should it come to that. I am simply gratified that you are well, and I am certain that Twilight Sparkle will agree."
Celestia nodded gently and stood up on shaky legs, then walked over to Philomena's cage. She removed her shoe and offered the bird a hooftip through the bars, and Philomena grated the edges of her beak against it like a grindstone. "Not all of my memories were recoverable. Sadly, this includes my time spent with Twilight in the previous cycle," she said. "I hope she won't be too upset."
"That is unfortunate, but she will be fine," said Luna. She stood up and walked toward her sister, keeping just barely within a comfortable speaking distance.
"Luna, have I ever told you why I choose to keep a phoenix as a pet?" asked Celestia.
"I do not think so, but I believe I can chance a guess," said Luna. "You share much in common with the phoenix, both in form and personality—much as I do with Tiberius. Philomena is rare, bright, lithe, and beautiful. She shines like the Sun, and she is eternal in form. She has a calm and patient exterior, yet she is fiercely protective of those she loves. In all these ways she is not unlike my sister."
Princess Celestia blushed. "You flatter me, but yes, that is the general idea. Philomena and I share much in common," she said, as she reached in with a leg and removed her pet from the cage. "With my memories restored, I now know it was her ability to renew herself that inspired the solution for my ailing mood."
"Ah, that makes sense. You know, Fluttershy—Twilight's friend—recently told me the story of how Philomena turned to ashes in her hooves. It was fortunate you arrived in time to explain the process of her life cycle," said Luna.
Celestia's head bobbed gently in agreement. "Yes. Although I fear I was not entirely honest with her," she admitted. "I didn't have the heart to tell her the truth."
"Whatever do you mean?" asked Luna, raising a brow.
The phoenix jumped off of Celestia's leg and onto the top of the cage. "I surreptitiously cast a spell on Philomena to control her body and mind after she rose from the ashes," said Celestia. "While it's true phoenixes can mate and lay eggs, this is extremely rare. Immolation is not part of a phoenix's life cycle. It is the most common way by which they reproduce."
Philomena made a deep clucking sound and flapped her wings, clinging to the cage to keep from flying. The wind blew seeds and litter onto the carpet, making a small mess.
The look on Luna's face grew puzzled. "I fear I do not see the analogy. What does this have to do with your magical control over Philomena?"
"When Philomena rose from the ashes, she wasn't the same bird," said Princess Celestia. "She was a new creature entirely. She did not remember who I was, and had only instinct to guide her. I needed to train her again, as though she were a newly-hatched baby."
Luna shrugged. "Ah. Well, I see very little distinction between Philomena losing her memories and the phenomenon of her being replaced by a new, identical bird," said Luna. She experimentally tapped at the bird's beak with her greave, eliciting a squawk.
Celestia shook her head. "It is more than philosophical. Her soul does not transition to the new bird. The experience of being Philomena travels elsewhere, into some other life-pattern which is likely to be very different."
"I beg to disagree, dear sister. Expectation demands the neigh-certain transition would be to the next incarnation," said Luna.
"Not after the experience of burning to death, it wouldn't. Her mind is destroyed piecemeal in the process, so it is highly unlikely her consciousness transitions to a similar state," said Celestia, scritching the back of Philomena's neck with a naked hoof. "The Philomena before you is, in every respect, an entirely new bird."
Luna paused for a moment, and then her eyes widened. "Sister, are you suggesting that your method of self-renewal somehow destroys you and creates a new being?" she asked.
"Not exactly, but perhaps something similar," said Celestia, and her ears lowered against her flowing mane.
The look of shock disappeared from Luna's face. "No, that cannot be. Thank the Stars, you are incorrect. You are only losing your recent memories," Luna pointed out. "Even if the spell you use destroys and recreates your body, it does not destroy your mind. The pony standing before me is clearly my sister, not a mindless yearling who cannot recognize me."
Celestia sighed, and her shoulders slumped as though tired. "If that were how it worked, then yes, you would be correct. A spell that destroys and reforms my body and mind would be no different from teleportation, which is not dangerous to the host," she said. "The reference to Philomena's immolation is not a perfect analogy."
"That is because it is an entirely false analogy," corrected Luna. "You are trying to derive the worst possible conclusion, because you feel guilty and wish to suffer for losing your memories of Twilight. Believe me, Sister. I understand that feeling remarkably well."
"It isn't as simple as you think it is, Luna," said Celestia. "I'm too tired to discuss it now, however. At least it's finally over."
Luna stepped up to her sister and hugged her, then leaned back. "It is indeed over. And now, you can focus on creating new memories that you shall retain for the remainder of your life: memories with me, memories with Twilight, and memories with your other friends."
Celestia's frown lifted slightly as Philomena jumped onto the back of her neck and began to preen. "I suppose you're right, Lulu. I do miss what I've lost with her, though. I hope she can forgive me."
Princess Luna smiled gently at her sister, and her face almost hid the nervous tension behind it. "There is nothing to forgive, my silly pony. You shall see this yourself when I leave to awaken Twilight from her slumber," said Luna. "By now, her mind has likely calculated powers of two which would require an entire blackboard to write out in Saddle Arabic notation."
Turning toward Luna, Celestia furrowed her brow in thought. "Powers of two... Luna, are you certain she was just mumbling numbers, or did she say anything else?"
Luna cocked her head. "Actually, there was something odd. Shortly after I put her beneath the waves of consciousness, she mumbled the words 'off by one'. I assume she had forgotten an arithmetic carry."
Princess Celestia paused and stared into space, then gasped. "Oh... oh no," she whispered, and ran to her desk. Losing her perch, Philomena flapped her wings and landed on top of the canopy. Celestia grabbed a quill and parchment and began to write.
"Celie? What is it?" said Luna, trotting nervously to her sister's side. She looked down at the paper, but all Celestia had written were the first ten powers of two: 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256, and 512.
Princess Celestia dropped the quill on the table and gasped for breath, as though she were drowning in the ocean. "No!" she cried out.
"Sister!" said Princess Luna as she kneeled beside her. Celestia collapsed onto the floor and buried her muzzle between her forelegs.
As Celestia weeped openly, she hid her face from her sister. Luna nervously petted her back with a trembling hoof.
"Celie, if this is the fault of that 'new math' I have heard of, I must confess that I know not how to deliver retribution to an abstract concept," said Luna, followed by a loud cough. "I am deeply sorry. That was a terrible attempt at levity," she added under her breath.
Celestia sniffed and lifted her head into view. Her eyes were already puffy and red, and her face bore a manic smile. "This is what I deserve," she said. "I see that now. I admit it. But it isn't what Twilight deserves. It isn't what you deserve, Lulu."
"I am frightened, Celie. I am going to get a doctor now," said Luna, but Celestia held her sister's hoof firmly with her magic.
"I will be okay," insisted Celestia.
"The appearance of your lovely face is as far from 'okay' as my imagination is capable of visualizing," said Luna. "Please, sister, do not attempt to stop me."
"Give me a few minutes," begged Celestia. She wiped her eyes with a handkerchief and sniffled. "Please. Just stay with me for a few minutes."
Luna sat on the floor and held her sister in her legs. After a few minutes, Celestia stood up.
"Now I am going for a doctor," said Luna.
"No, wait," said Celestia. "I need you to do something for me."
Luna stood still, wearing a wary expression. "I am listening, Sister."
"Get my secretary, Raven. Have her come here so I can cancel today's appointments. My schedule was already light because I've only recovered recently," she said. The emotion had disappeared from her facial features, leaving behind the poker face of the Knight.
"And you shall see the doctor now," said Luna.
"No, Luna. I will see the doctor tomorrow," said Celestia. "There is an emergency I must handle immediately, and it will take me several hours of work."
"Celie, you are in no condition—"
"I can do the work from my room, and I will see the doctor tomorrow," Celestia continued, interrupting her sister. "You can place a guard on my room if you don't believe me. But please, get Raven to come here immediately. And..."
"And?"
"I need you to tell Twilight that I love her," said Celestia.
"Celestia!" gasped Luna.
"Promise me!"
"I refuse! You shall do it yourself," said Luna.
"Yes, I will. But I need you to do it for me," begged Celestia.
Luna trembled where she stood. "Sister, I demand that you look me in the eyes and tell me that you will not come to harm."
Princess Celestia stepped forward and stared her sister dead in the eyes. "Luna, I promise you that I will be fine. You, Twilight, and I will spend most of the day tomorrow discussing all of this at length. At that time, I will reveal everything to you both. All of it," she promised. "I am going to instruct Raven to brief you tomorrow before we meet. But you must promise me that you will tell Twilight I love her. I need her to know, or I won't have the strength to complete the work I must do."
Luna clenched her jaw, less listening to Celestia's spoken words than watching every tiny detail of her face. It didn't matter that her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet. The face of the Knight was an expert gambler's mask, completely dissociated from emotion.
Yet Princess Luna could detect the tiniest hint of emotion in her eyes that her sister was unable to secret away. It was a raw, unrefined need, a desperation so broad and shallow that Luna knew lies couldn't hide beneath its surface.
"I believe you," said Luna, unable to keep the wavering out of her voice. "I shall do as you ask."
"In turn, I promise we will meet together tomorrow and put all of this to rest. I intend to deliver to both you and Twilight the brightest possible future with me," said Celestia. "Now go."
Princess Luna quickly grabbed her shoes and left as her sister sat down and began to write on a scroll.
As she stepped outside the room, she decided against calling for a guard. Her sister had been telling the truth, of that much she was certain. But Celestia was a much better gambler when it came to secrets, and at the moment, her hoof held a millennium's worth of cards.
"Please, Celie. Please don't be bluffing," she whispered as she shut her sister's door.
Princess Twilight Sparkle trotted into the royal meeting room and shut the door behind her. She quickly took a seat at the small central table next to Princess Luna.
"Hello, Luna. How is Celestia doing?" said Twilight, followed by a small gasp. "Luna, are you okay?"
"Forgive me, Twilight," said Luna, as she rubbed her bleary eyes with her foreknees. "I look rather fagged, I must presume."
"Well, er... that's not really a word ponies use anymore, but yes. Actually, you look like you haven't slept since I last saw you," she said.
"I have not," responded Luna.
"Oh my Stars. Luna, how is Celestia?" Twilight repeated, leaning upon the table with both hooves.
Luna sighed and gritted her teeth. "I will tell you what I know. It should help to pass the time as we wait."
Princess Luna proceeded to recount the entire meeting with her sister.
"...and finally, she made me promise to tell you that she loves you," she concluded. "By the way, my sister loves you. The deed is done."
"She said what?" asked Twilight, blushing deeply. She reached forward and grasped Princess Luna by her collar. "Luna, it sounds like she's dangerously depressed. We need her to see a doctor immediately—"
"Twilight, calm yourself! Do you think me a foal?" said Luna, leaning back from Twilight's face. "Or do you expect I would be here if I had not already done all that I could?"
"No, no, of course not," said Twilight. She released Luna and sighed, slumping back into her seat. "What in Tartarus is going on?"
"We are being played, Twilight," said Luna, punctuating the statement with a dark frown.
"Played? By Celestia?"
"Not precisely, no," said Luna. "The promise my sister gave to me was sincere, of this I have no doubt. Has she ever spoken to you of the roles of Knight and Knave?"
"Knight and Knave... Oh, right: the 'Good Guard, Bad Guard' routine," said Twilight. "She credits you with its invention."
Luna nodded. "The role of the Knight is the ability to mask one's emotions, and my sister excels at it. However, she is a terrible liar. The ability to lie with false emotion is the role of the Knave," she said.
"Which is what you're good at," said Twilight.
"Precisely. Despite my sister's gift at presenting a false front, she has never been able to lie to me convincingly," said Luna. "I doubt even a millennium could change that much, particularly given her lack of memory. We will certainly meet with her before the morrow's dawn, just as she promised."
"Then what did you mean by 'played'?" asked Twilight.
"Celestia's secretary, Raven, is serving as her intermediary for all communication. Quite frankly, I do not trust the mare," said Luna. "This is a rare situation where Raven's commands supersede my own. She legally acts as Celestia's Hoof while my sister remains sequestered in her room. Raven is the one who informed me that Celestia's audience with us would begin here at noon."
"Wait, noon? Luna, that was hours ago! Why didn't you call me sooner?" asked Twilight.
"I know the dissonant tune of a diplomatic stalling tactic when it assaults my ears, Twilight," said Luna. "Raven's words were far too vague about whether the meeting would begin on time. I was told I could 'go ahead and take a nap' and I would be awoken when my sister was ready."
"And you couldn't sleep, of course," said Twilight.
"Rather, I would not. I intend to be informed the moment this charade begins to crack. I expect that Raven will be along shortly, since evening approaches soon. Any delays in my schedule for raising the Moon would give me legitimate standing to intervene in my sister's affairs," she said. "Besides, I look forward to boxing Raven's delicate ears. Naturally, I shall endeavor to withhold enough force so that the fractures to her skull are minimal." Her eyes narrowed sharply, and Twilight could see an inferno burning within.
"Luna!" gasped Twilight. "You can't—"
Luna smiled wearily. "I am exaggerating, my little pony. It is my gift," said Luna. "Did we not just discuss this?"
"Right," said Twilight, breathing a sigh of relief. "You know, Celestia used to tell me stories about you two. I mean, she used to tell me stories years ago, before her last Lethe invocation. They were... amusing," she added, and smiled for a moment.
"Yea, and many of them were enjoyable to experience firsthoof. As far as today's story is concerned, I would prefer for Raven to believe she is about to be eviscerated. Please do not spoil my mirth," said Luna. "Though in full disclosure, my fury is not entirely a work of fiction. It is primarily rage which sustains my wakefulness at this late hour."
"Wait a minute. You said Celestia was supposed to meet with us at noon," said Twilight. "But it sounds like you're expecting Raven to show up instead. Do you think your sister is going to be delayed even longer?"
Luna sighed and nodded. "They are stalling us for as long as possible, or else Raven would have arrived sooner than this. I do not know why, and it is natural to fear the unknown. This is particularly true when the wellbeing of my sister is at stake," said Luna.
Twilight wrinkled her muzzle up with a look of uncertainty. "I don't want to ruin your fun, but I'm not sure it's fair to be angry at her secretary," she said. "I'm sure she's just doing what Celestia told her to do. Raven's just the messenger."
"Most likely, yes. But if the messenger knows the wine she brings to her guests is laced with poison, then it is indeed fair for her to share the blame," said Luna. "The mantra of 'following orders' is not an excuse for unethical behavior. If Raven knowingly places my sister in jeopardy with her actions, I do not give a damn whether or not Celestia so ordered it. Raven shall face the full force of my wrath, and she undoubtedly knows this."
"Well, hopefully we're just jumping to—" said Twilight. She abruptly stopped as the door creaked open.
Raven entered the doorway, levitating a stack of large books and scrolls beside her as she walked in. "So sorry for the delay!" she called in a perky voice, stepping forward. "Celestia will be along shortly, but she nee—"
The entire collection of materials tumbled to the ground as Luna's magic gripped Raven by the throat and lifted her up in the air. Twilight's jaw dropped and she froze in her seat.
"No more stalling," growled Luna. "You shall give us immediate answers about my sister, or I will end you." All of the tiredness in Luna's face had somehow disappeared. Her nostrils flared and her mouth turned down in a twitching snarl as the muscles in her cheeks and jaw twitched beneath her dark pelt.
The secretary struggled in midair and made choking sounds as she dug and raked at her neck with her hooves.
"Luna!" shouted Twilight, and Luna released her. Raven fell onto the floor, where she began weakly coughing and drooling.
"It would be foalish to tempt me, Raven," said Princess Luna, standing up out of her seat. "Please, take your time to recover your voice. You should think very carefully before you speak again."
Twilight held her hooves over her mouth, leaning back in her chair as she looked back and forth between the two ponies.
Raven finally stood up straight. She coughed horsely and spit to one side of the table. "Then listen," she wheezed. "I am the only pony in Equestria who knows what's going on, and I intend to follow Celestia's orders exactly. You cannot frighten or torture me into compliance." She lowered her neck and broadened her shoulders into an aggressive stance.
Princess Luna fumed, breathing in quick, ragged breaths through her nostrils for a few moments. "Raven, I shall promise you this: if one glowing hair on my sister's mane is harmed through your action or lack thereof, there is no force in all of Equestria that shall save you from my wrath. Not even that one," said Luna, motioning with a cock of her head toward Twilight Sparkle, who sat so rigidly it looked like she were glued to her chair.
"Acceptable," said Raven with a sigh, and she relaxed her posture and walked up to the table, ignoring the books and scrolls underhoof and even kicking one to the side. Then she calmly took her seat.
Twilight located her tongue. "R-Raven, I really don't think you want to test her right now," she said, placing a forehoof on the table, which inadvertently made a tapping sound as it rattled in place.
"I am well aware that Princess Luna excels at the Knave, but even if the threat is genuine, I don't care," said Raven. "You wouldn't guess this by looking at me, but I've lived a remarkably full life. Whatever revenge your honor demands is just another part of my job description. Now I have a task to fulfill, and I aim to do it."
"What task?" asked Twilight, speaking very quickly before Luna could say anything more.
"I am here to tell you both a story," said Raven. "It is an old story, and one I am in a unique position to tell. I'm the only pony in Equestria who knows it."
"This had best not be creative fiction," snarled Princess Luna.
"No. It is historical fact, though perhaps with embellishments," said Raven. "History usually has those, and I wasn't personally present for the conversation I'm about to recount."
"Does it have a happy ending?" asked Twilight, a fake smile crossing her lips as she rapidly tapped her rear hoof against the floor. "Please say it has a happy ending. I really don't like sad stories."
"Neigh, it does not," said Raven. Then she paused with a quizzical expression, and raised a hooftip in front of her muzzle. "On the other hoof, I'm not sure it has an ending at all? Not yet, at least... but I promise it's short." She cleared her throat forcefully, which sounded painful, and reached for a nearby pitcher of water and a glass to nurse her throat. Raven took a long drink while the two princesses stared intently at her.
She finally gasped for air, and exhaled deeply. "May I begin?" she asked, then took a second gulp of water.
Luna placed her hooves over her face and slumped forward as she regained her seat, the act finally allowing her enervation to show. "If you please," she said, with all the passion fled from her voice.
"Good evening, Celestia," the call resounded, echoing throughout the cavern. Star Swirl the Bearded greeted his student with an intensity many decibels louder than necessary. Princess Celestia nearly jumped out of her pelt.
She turned around to face the old stallion. Celestia stood directly between him and his writing desk, and froze for a moment before speaking.
"I need a spell," she said, and her face relaxed into a gentle, soft smile. It was a subtle sort of look, one oriented at the precise midpoint between at least a dozen different emotions: happiness, deep thought, wistful sorrow, aloof anger, sarcasm, confusion, abject boredom...
"Don't you make that face at me young lady," growled Star Swirl, and his bells jingled as his head shook.
The expression on her muzzle dropped to a casual frown. "It isn't remotely fair," she said. "You know me too well."
"Well, that isn't a bad thing, now is it?" asked Star Swirl, stroking his eponymous beard with a hoof.
"And how do you always manage to sneak up on me with those ridiculous bells?" she asked, with half a smirk.
"Now you're trying to change the subject by adding levity, in the hopes I'll let you go about your merry way without the awkward conversation we both know we're about to have," he said.
Celestia sighed. "Why even bother," she said, her voice more tired than defiant.
"I think you know why," said Star Swirl. "Now, you were saying?"
"I need a spell," said Celestia, flatly. Her poker face had abandoned her entirely, leaving behind an even mix of resentment and desperation.
"Yes, yes, I have plenty of those. Most of them I don't keep in the private study, of course," he said. "I generally save this drafty place for the sort of magic that could unmake reality, were it to fall into the wrong hooves. You know, time travel and other lazy sorts of deus ex machinas—the kind of spells which make for the worst sort of fiction. Such as that spell you have in your saddlebags right there." Star Swirl pointed at Celestia's flank with his levitated staff.
"I am not 'the wrong hooves'," said Celestia.
"Didn't say you were," said Star Swirl. "But you're not getting out of here without telling me what you plan to do."
Celestia placed a hoof over her eyes, shadowing them. "It's too late for you to stop me, and you can't change my mind. What difference does it make?" she asked. "I didn't come here for a lecture."
"It will make a difference to you," said Star Swirl. "You must accept whatever terrible thing you're about to do, with your eyes wide open."
Celestia kneeled at first, then lay down flat upon the cavern floor. "It's so hard, Star. I miss her so much," she said softly, and her voice wavered.
"Yes, yes. I know," said Star Swirl, with a deep sigh.
"No, you don't," Celestia said angrily. "This blasted Nightmare Shard. Every night it torments me. I cannot sleep properly. I cannot think properly. I can live like this no longer."
"Ah, I see. And you believe this Shard is the true beast that haunts you?" asked Star Swirl.
Princess Celestia let out a short, desperate laugh. "No, not really. I know it's just a convenient scapegoat," she admitted. "It's an annoyance compared to the truth: I hate myself for what I've done."
"You did precisely what you had to do, and nothing more," soothed the elder pony.
"I should have listened to her. I should have paid closer attention. She didn't fall into the darkness alone, Star Swirl. I pushed her there," said Celestia, and she grimaced.
The old unicorn stepped up to his charge and lay beside her, a rickety leg blanketing her withers. "I know it was not your intent. You are not perfect, Celestia," he said. "You are flawed. That is what it means to be pony."
"Everypony else thinks I'm perfect," she whispered. "They expect it, and they even come up with excuses when I fail. Our citizens look up to me like I'm some sort of god. Even now, the ponies of Canterlot curse my sister's name, as though this were all her fault."
"Yes, well, we both know they are ignorant foals," he said. "Now, listen to me, dear. It is true that removing the Shard is beyond my abilities. But depression is something that can be treated..."
"It cannot. I have had this—thing—trapped in me for almost eight years," said Celestia. "I blanked myself of the first four, and it did nothing to abate the pain inside. Now it's been another four years, and my heart aches even worse than it did before. I've tried every magical, medical, and menial treatment, and still it worsens with each passing day. I cannot imagine going another decade like this. I simply cannot."
"You are needed by Equestria. I am aware the crown is leaden in weight, but at this point in history you are, sadly, the only pony who can maintain order," said Star Swirl. "Not to mention, we unicorns have lost the ability to maintain the Sun and Moon as we once did."
"I know. That's why I've taken your spell," said Celestia. "It is the only option."
"There are always options," said Star Swirl. "Plural."
"No, there are not," countered Celestia. "Options, perhaps, but not true, accessible alternatives. This is the only possible road I can tread."
Star Swirl stood up and walked a few hooves away, then turned around and knelt, gazing intently into the princess's eyes. "You could try to withstand the pain. You are far stronger than you know," he said.
"I assume you already have an idea of what I intend to do. If I don't do it properly, could my actions destroy Equestria?" she asked.
Star Swirl didn't respond, but he nodded solemnly as he stroked his beard.
"Then I need you to help me."
Star Swirl shook his head, jingling the bells on the brim of his hat. "I will not sign off on this path to destruction."
"Neigh," said Celestia. "You will, because you have no choice. Neither of us do."
Star Swirl hung his head low and snorted. "Here's how we'll play the game. You tell me what you have planned," he said, "and I will explain to you exactly why it will fail."
Celestia swallowed a dry gulp. "I'm going to use your timeport spell with the safety turned off."
"Ah. And what good will come of making an unstable clone of yourself?"
"I'll make multiple copies," said Celestia. "I'll send each one forward into the future to rule Equestria in my stead, in yearly increments. If I cast the spell a thousand times, that will cover the entire period of your prophesy. Whoever the last clone is will be the Celestia to continue ruling after my sister returns."
"Fortunately, the spell you've taken only allows timeporting one year at a time," said Star Swirl.
"I'll modify it, then. Difficult, but not impossible," she replied.
"Do you realize what will happen to these 'clones'?" asked Star Swirl, a twinge of anger in his voice.
"Yes. An unstable clone cannot exist in the same time span with any other pony having the same temporal signature," said Celestia. "Each clone will cease to exist at the moment the next one appears. It's like teleportation, except my memories will be erased each time the next clone replaces the previous."
"It is nothing like teleportation, and as my student, you already know this," said Star Swirl, with a deep frown wrinkling his chin even more than normal. "While each clone will maintain the same temporal signature, they differentiate for at least a year. The deconstruction process isn't merely erasing memories. Each clone will die. The expected mental transition is not from one to the next."
"Whatever. The distinction is purely academic, and it hasn't been proven," said Celestia.
"Shortly prior to Luna's return, a very bright young pony will prove it mathematically," said Star Swirl. "It's death as sure as if you'd burned each of them to cinders."
"I'm not afraid to die," said Celestia, stone-faced.
"That is only because you wish to die," said Star Swirl, shaking his head dismissively. "Or, more accurately, because you wish to be punished. Being able to end your suffering is merely a psychological bonus."
"I don't need to be lectured by you or anypony else about the value of suffering," growled Celestia. "I've already made up my mind." She stood up and began walking, only to find both herself and her mentor surrounded by a glowing, turquoise-hued force bubble.
"We're not done just yet," said Star Swirl. "Putting aside the ethical horror of murdering a thousand copies of yourself, your plan will not work."
Celestia winced, and sat back down. "Fine. Explain," she asked, staring down at the cavern floor.
Star Swirl released the bubble, with an audible 'pop'. "For starters, you will be unable to rule knowing you have but one year to live."
"I already told you. I'm prepared to die," said Celestia, with a confused look on her face. "Do you think I'm joking?"
"Not at all. But even if you pine for death, your mortality will preoccupy your thoughts. You will be left incapable of governing," said Star Swirl.
Celestia paused in thought. "Okay, I'll erase my memory again by casting the Lethe spell. Each clone will erase her memory after being timeported into the right year. I can use the Tree of Harmony to enhance the effect of the spell, so I won't be able to recover my memories even if I try," she said. "It's foalproof."
"I'm afraid not. Each clone will spring into being knowing that she is a clone, because the scenery will have changed. You cannot predict your psychological reaction to being in that situation," he said. "Some of the clones may not be willing to follow through with casting Lethe once they realize they are doomed, especially given your desire to be punished."
"Then I'll do something to make it so I won't know which clone I am," countered Celestia, with a shrug. "I can hide the environment from my senses. I should be able to cast Lethe through the Tree of Harmony even if I can't see it with my eyes."
"Ah, but then you won't know how many times to cast the spell. After you timeport the first clone, you won't know whether you're the original Celestia in 8 Anno Solequus, or the copy of Celestia in 9 Anno Solequus," explained Star Swirl. "So each copy would continue casting timeports. The second casting of the spell will create two clones: one in 10 A.S. cast by the original, and another in 11 A.S. cast by the copy. The third casting will create four, and at this point you'll have two clones appearing at the exact same time and place in 11 A.S. This will cause irreversible fracturing of the spacetime continuum."
Princess Celestia quietly cursed, then stood up. "There has to be a way to do this. Can't you just tell me?" she asked.
"Neigh," said Star Swirl. "I shan't do any such thing."
"Exponential growth of clones... wait a moment," said Celestia, and she trotted up to Star Swirl's desk and began drawing a diagram with quill and ink upon a loose sheet of parchment. "That's it. That's the answer."
Star Swirl the Bearded stepped up to his desk and looked at the paper. Celestia had drawn a line with arcs moving from point to point. He closed his eyes and bowed his head tiredly, saying nothing.
"I'll use an exponential progression with powers of two. That's also the way I can modify the spell to work beyond a single year," said Celestia, and a sad-looking smile crossed her face. "First, I go to the Tree of Harmony and cast a spell to hide the environment from view. Then I use the Tree to double the length of the timeport spell nine times, and cast the lengthened spell. That will send the first clone 512 years into the future—two to the ninth power," she explained. "Now there will be two Celestias: one still at 8 Anno Solequus, and the other at 520 Anno Solequus. Each of those will create a copy that moves forward 256 years, which is two to the eighth power, and so on. After I finish, there will be 1024 Celestias, each spaced exactly one year apart. Then all of the clones cast four years' worth of Lethe through the Tree, and we'll be in the dark about what happened."
"You mean each of you will be standing in the middle of the Everfree Forest without a clue what happened after you banished Nightmare Moon," corrected Star Swirl.
"I'll leave notes for myself," she said. "If I can't know I'm going to die, I'll just make something up about going to the tree for a ritual to activate Lethe."
"Insufficient. You'll need a confidant," he said. "At least one pony will need to know the truth."
"I'll use you, of course," she said.
"I refuse," said Star Swirl. "Besides, I won't be around for most of the coming millennium."
"Fine. I can get a series of helpers—"
"A series? And you expect that the secret won't get out?" he interrupted.
Celestia took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll train a single pony, and give them access to age reversal magic."
Star Swirl's eyes widened. "Celestia, you cannot be serious. That magic is intended only for alicorns. If anypony were to discover the truth—"
"I am serious. And I know the perfect pony for the job," she said. "Kestrel."
"Ha! This cannot be the same Kestrel I know," said Star Swirl. "The clerk you told me was a 'psychopath'? The one you were about to fire?"
Celestia nodded. "That's exactly why she's perfect. She'll follow my orders, whether or not they're ethical," she said. "We'll have to change her name and manestyle every generation or so, so nopony catches on that age reversal spells exist."
"So now you admit that what you plan to do is unethical!" accused Star Swirl.
"Of course it is, but it's my life, Star," said Celestia. "Mine to do with as I please."
"It most certainly is not! Nothing gives you the authority to kill one-thousand and twenty-three copies of yourself, Celestia! This is mass-murder, by any reasonable definition," he said.
"Not according to the law, it isn't," said Celestia. "Besides, I'm acting regent."
"The law was never designed to handle these sorts of situations. This is madness, and you know it," growled Star Swirl. "Fortunately, the issue is moot. You cannot govern Equestria with total amnesia once per year. You'll barely have time to review your notes before the next incarnation, and you'll never be able to hide the deficit from your subjects."
"Then I'll make it every two years—or maybe four," said Celestia. "It won't be easy, but I think I can survive another four years."
"That at least reduces the number of clones to 256, but it's no less appalling," he scoffed. "You could at least try to live a bit past a century, and murder yourself only seven times. Why, that almost takes the 'mass' out of the 'mass-murder' thing."
Celestia laughed. "You think I can survive 128 more years? I can't imagine lasting another eight! And what does it matter how many of my clones die?"
"It matters, Celestia."
"I can do eight years and no longer," argued Celestia.
"You can do sixty-four. That's barely a typical pony's lifetime," said Star Swirl.
"No. No. Eight is the limit," she said, shaking her head.
"You'll be unable to take on students. You'll be unable to focus on long-term projects," said Star Swirl. "You'll have no close friends."
Princess Celestia sighed and bowed her head. "Well... I know I can raise a student in sixteen years," she argued. "But even that pushes the limits of my constitution, Star. I can go no further, and that is final."
"Thirty-two," offered Star Swirl.
"I can't believe I'm haggling over how many times I should kill myself!" said Celestia, with a crazy-sounding laugh. "The difference between killing 63 clones and 31 clones is immaterial. Sixteen years will barely work, so that is what I'll do."
"Celestia, I entreat you: listen very carefully. This mad plan of yours will last through 1032 Anno Solequus, except that the last clone will continue on," he said. "If you can find a way to survive 32 years, then the last clone will appear precisely on 1000 A.S., which is when Luna shall return."
"So? I don't care about matching years precisely. That's preposterous," she said.
"If you only do sixteen-year increments, the clone that appears on 1000 A.S. won't be the last clone. She will be the next-to-last clone," said Star Swirl. "You'll be losing some very important years: the ones spent reuniting with your sister. You'll also be losing years spent with a very important student, one you will have strong emotions toward."
An odd look crossed Celestia's face, and her mouth hung open for a moment. "Wait—you can predict this because you've been there, in the future," she realized, and her voice began to elevate in pitch and volume. "You already know I'm going ahead with my plans!"
Star Swirl sighed and nodded solemnly.
"Then why in Tartarus are we having this argument?" shouted Celestia.
Star Swirl the Bearded wiped a teary eye with the hem of his cloak.
"Because, my friend," he said, "winning an argument is not the only good reason for having one."
"Star Swirl had one last thing to tell Celestia," said Raven. "The Tree of Harmony innately knows the importance of Princess Celestia to the timeline. If one of her clones dies, it would redirect the next one to appear earlier in the timeline. That clone would need to survive longer, of course. With a natural spell duration of sixteen years, the tree can only redirect each spell's target by at most fifteen years."
"Did this ever happen?" asked Twilight Sparkle.
"As of today, it has happened but once," said Raven.
Twilight's brow furrowed in thought. "Okay, this is weird and awful, but why—" she said, then stopped as she heard a soft sobbing beside her. Luna was crying into her legs.
"Luna?" asked Twilight. "What's wrong? What does this mean?"
Luna lifted her head, her cheeks stained with tears. "It means my sister has thrown herself into the Sun."
"What?" gasped Twilight, and she looked toward Raven. "Wait, we can stop her!"
"Raven is not one of your young assistant's picture-book villains, Twilight," Luna said, softly. "Surely, this has already occurred."
"You are correct. You may 'end me' now, should you wish," Raven replied, very calmly.
Luna sighed mournfully. "Of course not."
"Very well. Princess Celestia's final clone has recently been retrieved from the Tree. She awaits you both in her chambers," said Raven. Without bothering to pick up any of the books and scrolls littering the floor, Celestia's secretary exited the room.
Responding to her sister's knock, Princess Celestia opened the door to her bedchambers. She was wearing that soft smile Twilight Sparkle had come to know and resent. They entered the room, and shut the door behind them.
The smile faded ever-so-slightly. "I'm sorry," she said, without a true hint of emotion in her voice.
"She could have had another thirteen years with us," said Princess Luna, wiping her eyes with a knee. "There was no need to do this."
"She didn't want us to lose any more memories with her," said Twilight, and she sighed. "She wanted the rest of our time together to remain with a single Celestia."
"I care not. It was the wrong choice," Luna said bitterly.
"I'm sorry," Celestia repeated. "I truly am." She walked over to her dresser and lifted a sheaf of paper, all of it covered in writing. It looked fresh.
"Is that what she wrote to you?" said Twilight.
Celestia nodded. "It is. The largest theme, by far, is that I need to learn to stop masking my emotions. I will try to follow in her hoofprints, because I owe it to you both," she said. "But it will take time. I don't really know where to start yet."
Luna embraced her sister, and once she had stepped back, Twilight embraced her. Celestia's hug was very light, in contrast to the firm hug Twilight had received from her earlier in the day.
"I need to remove the Tantabus from you again, I presume," said Luna.
Celestia shook her head slowly. "You needn't. It seems the Tantabus wasn't copied with the spell. Rather, it leaped from one incarnation to the next," she said. "Now it is gone for good, and I am thankful for that, Sister."
"We should give you time to rest," said Luna, and Twilight reluctantly nodded.
Princess Celestia smiled gently and bobbed her head in assent. "I am so lucky to be the one who remains. And I look forward to getting to know you again, Twilight Sparkle."
"Such a waste. So many lives thrown away," Princess Luna said to Twilight Sparkle, resting outside in the gardens where they'd been just the previous day.
"I can't believe she did it," said Twilight. "I understand why she did it, I just can't believe it."
Luna sighed and nodded. "Well, the final incarnation of my sister is correct on at least one account: she is quite lucky to be the one who remains. A one in sixty-four chance makes for meager odds."
Twilight frowned and turned her head to look toward the castle.
"Are you going to be all right, Twilight?" Luna asked. "It is only three years we have lost. Undoubtedly she is the same pony, even if some struggles must begin anew."
"It's not that," said Twilight. "Although, it does affect me a little. There's no telling how this Celestia will feel about me, for one. The previous one had deep feelings for me, apparently, and I still don't even know how I feel about that."
Luna nodded. "Few things in life are certain. But surely, we and Celestia now have a long and good future ahead of us. Together," she offered.
"I look forward to it," admitted Twilight, with a sigh. "But something else is nagging at me, something I probably shouldn't even mention."
Luna took in a deep breath, but said nothing.
"I've known three Celestias now, and you've known two of them, seeing as they all share the same history from before Nightmare Moon. There are dozens of other Celestias who had their own lives," said Twilight. "A lot can change in sixteen years. Some of those lives could have been amazing. Each of them was undoubtedly worth something."
"Yes. Of course I agree," said Luna.
"The last Celestia, number sixty-three, we only really knew her for who she was, for what, an hour or two? At all other times her guard was raised," said Twilight. "But that hour was incredible, wasn't it? It was a solid emotional breakthrough. I felt like she and I had something special—something deeply personal connecting us, whether or not I reciprocated her feelings for me."
"Go on," urged Luna, her face showing signs of worry.
"And when it came down to it, she was willing to lay down her life for the chance at making our relationship with her last longer," she continued. "To give us a chance to grow together."
"As I have said, I feel it was the wrong choice..." said Luna.
"As do I. But that's kind of my point," said Twilight. "The sixty-third Celestia had such conviction at the end. I can't shake the feeling that she had attained some kind of true self-actualization, something few ponies ever learn. She had a knowledge of who she was; an understanding of what was most important in life. And she was a true friend."
Luna nodded. "That she was."
"Yet the sixty-fourth Celestia was quick to say how lucky she is compared with the others," said Twilight.
"Twilight, what is it you are trying to say?" asked Luna.
Twilight paused and bit at her lower lip.
"I guess... I'm not entirely certain whether she is."
