When one is an ageless immortal, one’s holdings tend to grow steadily whilst others tend to rise and fall much like the sunrise and sunset. Celestia had once reflected that all ponies began from humble beginnings. Crying, screaming and kicking at the world, they demanded their voice be heard above the rest. With time, they quieted, became contented, until finally, they spoke no more.

Celestia grimly opined that her voice was one that remained steady. Unlike those around her, it never rose, it never fell. The steady march of time smoothed even the slightest kink in her dulcet tones.

She once had a basement. In the beginning, her basement housed things of both monetary and sentimental value to her. Over the years, sentimental items became precious. That which became precious, became invaluable. That which became invaluable… well you get the picture. Her basement overflowed with an assortment of treasure, bits and pieces of old artefact or bobbin from ages past. Even a casual jaunt through the confines of her stash drove home a sense of nostalgia peering through the assortment of collectibles she had acquired.

Sometimes, a pony or two would come and ask for a personal favour, perhaps a small monetary donation towards some noble cause. After careful thought, Celestia would occasionally take from the bits gathering dust in her basement and generously, but anonymously, donate. After several retrofits and a forgotten number of expansions, she saw fit to rename her basement. It came to her one evening when she was thinking of a more efficient way to redistribute her wealth. At times when she passed by the archway she would smile at the name. A gold plaque hung proudly near the door to her former basement which read, The Equestrian Treasury.

The only thing that Celestia took out of that basement before she renamed it were two amethyst jewels. You can still see them today, set into the regalia that she wears ever presently. There had been speculation on the amethysts and what they meant to the Princess. The questions were politely turned away through a skilful change in subject or simply dismissed with an indifference that left the inquirer thoroughly unsatisfied.

A standard response would be, “These jewels were a gift from ages past. I have all but forgotten their importance.” Another equally confusing riposte stated, “These are just some of many I have. I do not consider them to be of any particular significance.”

It seemed that the tale of the two amethysts remained something unknown to all but her most trusted and faithful, for to this day, it remains a secret lost to the annals of Time…

But still, wouldn’t it be nice to know?

——

After lowering the sun and dragging her weary hooves through the darkened castle hallways, Celestia opened the doors to her bedchambers to find a confused human paused mid-step and sporting a rather guilty expression. Though she bore the load of a rather emotional day, curiosity got the better of her. She opened dialogue with a bemused query. “David,” she began, smiling warmly at the human to put him at ease. “What brings you to my bedchambers so late?”

David cleared his throat awkwardly. He wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his spandex-like pants. Celestia observed that he seemed content to wear the pants. She found herself glad that he wore the thin garment, and although she was certain she knew why, she wasn’t certain how she could feel that way.

“I was just uh––” He paused, collected himself and gave the Princess a friendly smile. “––kinda hiding from Twilight,” he finished lamely.

At that, Celestia perked her ears and brightened a little. There was perhaps a little drama to be had with this chance encounter. Her voice was decidedly neutral. “And how long has this game of hide-and-seek been going on?” she asked mildly. Trotting nonchalantly over to her writing desk, she picked up a couple of scrolls pretending to peruse their contents.

David tensed. “Well, I’d say a couple of hours at least.”

Celestia turned to David in surprise. “That long? Does she still know you are playing?”

David chuckled weakly. “Ah no. The problem is, I couldn’t find her. After I got lost, I couldn’t find the maid I was with either…”

Celestia gaped at David. “Are you saying, in the last two hours that you’ve wandered around the castle, you haven’t seen a single other pony? And then you just wandered in here?”

David shrugged sheepishly. “I’m bad with directions?” he hedged, but shrank as Celestia gave him a small, knowing smile.

He threw up his hands. “Okay, maybe I was trying to avoid her, but I honestly couldn’t find anyone since then!” He flopped morosely on Celestia’s bed.

A bit surprised at the creature’s informality, but not unpleasantly so, Celestia placed the scrolls carefully on her desk and joined David on the bed.

“David, is there a reason you are avoiding Twilight?”

David shifted uncomfortably, making a helpless gesture as he shrugged his shoulders. “It’s rather silly, actually.”

“Go on,” Celestia pressed, leaning in.

“I made a bet with Twilight,” he admitted, scratching his chin.

Celestia raised an eyebrow, but David waved a dismissive hand.

“Yeah I know, it’s silly, but I felt rather compelled to win this bet.” He got up from the bed and crossed the chamber to gaze out into the night through the tall balcony windows. “Twilight kind of reminds me of a friend I used to know. We’d bet on everything. Usually I’d lose, but I’d try my hardest to win.” He flicked a gaze in Celestia’s direction. “It’s the principle of the matter.” He grinned, his eyes going a bit distant. “I guess you could say she inspired that sort of trait in me. To try and win those silly little bets.” David snorted. “I guess it’s hard to think about them just… gone.” He smiled. “Usually, I just stop thinking about it. I’m good at that. Thinking is definitely not my forte.”

Celestia gave David a look that was equal parts sympathy and sadness. It looked like she understood, but that wasn’t possible. How could anyone understand?

Suddenly, David shook his head. A shiver rolled down his spine with his arms flopping out startling Celestia into standing position.

“Brr!” he exclaimed. “I’ve had way too many of these talks recently, what with the move and the experiment and the waking up in the future and all. I better get going. You probably have a lot of things to do.” With that, he reached back and yanked on a metal fixture mounted on Celestia’s bedroom wall. With a hiss and a soft click, a small passage opened up. “It’s been nice talking to you, Celestia.”

Before Celestia could even bid him farewell, the strange human had skittered down the passage and disappeared from view. She was pleasantly surprised to find a smile plastered over her muzzle.

Interesting, she thought to herself, suddenly having an idea. It’s been a while since I’ve used the hidden passages.

With that, Celestia trotted towards the lever mechanism. She paused in front of it, debating whether she should turn in early or head out once again, it was getting late after all. Finally, she pulled on the switch that activated the entrance, a private smile tugging at the corners of her muzzle. She dove into the tunnels criss-crossing the core of Canterlot Castle.

A ruler must have a little fun, every now and again, she reflected.

——

After combing through the hallways one more time, Twilight growled and grumbled at the well worn stone floor. Various servants and nobles passing by would pick up some snippets such as:

“Dim-witted stubborn as a–– ugh!”

Or perhaps:

“Why did I get assigned to babysit an overgrown monkey?”

Some got an even bigger taste of her frustration:

“Of course he’d disappear; they just love to run and hide! At least, that’s what Fluttershy told me… Where is he hiding?!”

Many polite inquiries around the castle were met with a negative deposition.

“Sorry, Twilight,” they would reply. “Haven’t seen this ‘human’ that you described. I’d like to meet one though. Are they nice?”

Some that had already caught word of the human’s existence responded with more enthusiasm. “Yes, I think I’ve seen him! He was in the gardens… or was that a bear? I don’t know. Sorry, Twilight! He was a funny creature though. Remember when you tried CPR on hi–– hey, where are you going?!”

Cheeks flaming, Twilight stomped off from that last particular conversation with the royal tailor. She’d never live that moment down. Granted, it wasn’t her best moment, but it certainly qualified as an emergency situation. She just acted in line with procedure… right?

After another half an hour spent searching, she slunk sullenly to a bench within the Canterlot gardens. There was barely a chance he was actually in the gardens, but it was still worth a shot. Hope faded in her quest to spot David, the infuriating human, as she reached her breaking point and slumped down on the bench in a dour funk.

“I give up!” she muttered to herself. “The stupid human can win this bet for all I care.”

“Really? Here I thought I was going to give up before you.”

With a surprised squawk and a flop to the grass, Twilight scrambled to her hooves, registering his shape among the bushes as he admired some roses.

“Where did you come from?!” she seethed, flicking her head to get an annoying strand of mane out of her eyesight. “I’ve spent three whole hours looking for you!”

David looked suitably abashed. He muttered something incomprehensible. Twilight raised an eyebrow in response.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” she added testily. “It seems like you’re having as much trouble finding words as I had finding you.”

David cleared his throat and straightened up. “Eh, sorry,” he said. “I got lost.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t find my way back to you.”

Twilight’s cross look stopped David’s next words. He stuttered a bit, but then clammed up. Finally, he held out his hands in a peacekeeping gesture.

“Okay, I goofed up. How can I make this up to you?”

For a moment Twilight was tempted just to stay mad, but she just flicked her tail and decided to move on.

“Let’s change the subject.” Twilight shook out her mane and got back on her hooves. ”So, David. I haven’t heard much about where you’ve come from–– “ she cocked her head at that “––actually, it’s more like I haven’t heard much about when you’ve come from.”

David sighed. Question time. He was wondering when this would happen. Part two of the talk.

“Uh, what would you like to know?”

Twilight paced a bit forward then paced back.

“So it’s quite obvious that you don’t have magic where you come from.” She shot him a glare before he could comment on that. “So what do you use to manage your weather? Or travel around? Or raise the Sun and Moon?”

David raised his eyebrows as if to say: ‘Out of all the topics you could talk about you choose the one topic we don’t agree on?’ He settled for, “Why do you want to know?”

Twilight nodded. “I can’t help it, I’ve been studying magic my whole life.”

“How’s that working out for you? Do you travel around in a caravan and perform shows?” he commented snidely.

“How did you know Trixie... You know what? I don’t want to know. No. I’m actually the Princess’s personal student in magic.”

David whistled in admiration. “Righto, building those connections. Used to know a guy like that. Forgot his name though, wasn’t a very nice person… could be because of that pyramid scheme… nope, don’t want to go there. Hey!”

Twilight shook her head. The human was spouting random phrases again. “You still haven’t answered my question,” she growled, but David was already on the other side of the garden. “Wha–– how did you get there?!”

David’s eyes were affixed on a peculiar creature grazing on the grass within the garden. Twilight knew there were many animals in the gardens, but she hadn’t seen that one before.

“A kangaroo!” he crowed, dashing to the animal. “Oh man, this reminds me of home.”

Twilight galloped after the human as he chased the animal around the garden, yelling at it to hold still. He stopped as the ‘kangaroo’ bounded over a hedge and disappeared from view. He threw up his hands.

Twilight trotted up to David. “Why were you chasing that poor animal around?”

David looked at Twilight as if she were the mad human running around. “To ask it a question, of course.”

Twilight resisted the urge to place a hoof in the region of her facial features. “David, you know kangaroos can’t talk, right?”

David snorted at that. “And I suppose unicorns and pegasi and normal ponies are the very rare exception?”

“Well, no. There are other creatures that can talk, obviously. I think Fluttershy can talk to her animals too, now that I think about it.”

“So it wasn’t entirely stupid of me to try and ask a question from an animal, knowing nothing about what can or can’t speak around here?”

Twilight clammed up at that. While it was true that the human didn’t know what could or couldn’t speak around here, it was a little ridiculous. It’s not like she was going around and talking to books or inanimate objects just because something she didn’t think should normally speak, spoke.

“You could have just asked me,” she finally answered, quite reasonably. David snapped his fingers at his side with an ‘oh right’ kind of expression. He was about to reply when he saw Twilight doing the the most curious thing. She snapped her head around, as if searching for something.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

Twilight slowly and warily returned her gaze to David. “Yes, of course,” she replied, almost to herself. “I just thought I heard something.”

“You mean this?” David asked, snapping his fingers again. As soon as he did so again, Twilight’s eyes whipped to his fingers.

“Discord…” she hissed advancing upon David. David had the distinct feeling that this turn of events had happened before. He back-pedalled as she stalked towards him.

“Hey, what? What do you mean?”

“Don’t play games with me!” she yelled, her horn lighting up. “You’re Discord, you’re behind all this. It makes so much sense now!”

David did the only thing he could think of in this situation. He straightened and gave an evil laugh.

“Mwuhahaha,” he cackled. “I was wondering when you’d catch on, Twilight.”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “So you admit it? You’re Discord.”

David laughed. “Ahahahah, no. What the heck is wrong with you?”

Twilight looked uncertain. “What?”

David rolled his eyes. “I don’t even know who or what this ‘Discord’ is. What is he? Magic?”

Twilight nodded. “Well yes, he i––“

David interrupted before Twilight could delve any further. “Magic,” he growled. “Should have known.”

Twilight huffed. “What’s wrong with magic? Every time we talk it always comes back to magic. Why can’t you accept the fact that magic exists?”

“I don’t know... Maybe because it doesn’t!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“It does to me!”

“Yo– You obstinate human!”

“You crazy pony!”

“You ridiculous creature!”

“You mythical creature!”

“You’re intolerable!”

“You don’t exist!”

“Just go away!”

“Fine, I will!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

With the last word, David stalked off, rubbing his face with his tired hands.

“Just… people,” he grumbled, then slapped himself. “Ponies. Whatever. See if I care.”

David stormed away, not really taking notice of his surroundings. It didn’t come as much of a surprise when he didn’t notice the protruding rock and he fell forwards, tumbling through some bushes and landing in a heap in front of a surprised pony.

“Greetings,” the dark hued pony said after recovering from her initial shock of David’s abrupt appearance. “You are a curious creature.” She tilted her head. “May I ask what you are?”

The shiny box beside her piped up.

“The subject is human, Princess Luna.”

The Princess batted the box playfully.

“How many times have I told you to call me just Luna?”

“About as many times as you’ve asked me to perform a calculation for you.”

“Oh, you.”

The box let off a little steam. Quite literally. The CPU was starting to overheat again. Conversing with organics was a tiresome task.

David pulled himself up. “Hey there,” he finally replied. “Nice to meet you, I’m David.”

Luna finally realised what the Cry-pod had been saying. “Oh, so you are David. As in… uh, David Collins, am I correct?”

David nodded slowly. How did she know that? Oh right, the cryo-pod probably told her.

“Wonderful! You can talk to the Cry-pod for me, we can find out all sorts of things!” The Princess clapped her hooves together. “It’ll be fun! The box is so fascinating!”

David groaned silently.

Did he just trade one type of annoyance for another?

Princess Luna continued, oblivious to David’s obvious discomfort. “Ask the box about this ‘data recovery’, it requires you to activate it!”

Curiosity got the better of David. He glanced at the Cry-pod, then back at the Princess. “What’s this thing about data recovery?” he asked.

Various lights flashed across the battered display as the Cry-pod answered. “Data recovery can be initiated by administrative command. Warning, not all data may be retrieved, some firmware may be out of date by time of recovery. It is highly suggested that you connect to the Internet and download the latest updates to make sure you have best possible experience.”

David rolled his eyes. Even on medical equipment the software can be just as annoying as his computer.

“Alright, just recover anything you can. How long is this going to take?”

The Cry-pod whirred slightly and let off another gout of steam. “Process completed in 1.2000535 seconds. Unable to recover primary database without Internet connection. Searching for wireless uplink.”

David grunted in acknowledgement, not really expecting anything. After a moment the Cry-pod spoke up again.

“No wireless signals detected. Process failed in 0.0427 seconds. Expanding search to all known communication types. Signal detection complete. Signal strength minimal. Message retrieved. You’ve got mail!”

Startled, David looked at the Princess in astonishment. Obviously unfamiliar with the terms the Cry-pod was spouting, her confused look prompted David to explain what was happening.

“The Cry-pod,” he began, piecing together the information himself, “is telling us that there is human technology nearby broadcasting a signal, that is, sending us a message.” David grinned. “It’s pre-recorded but it could be human. Isn’t that great?!”

Luna couldn’t help but share in the joy of the ecstatic human.

“Are you suggesting there may be more of these delightful contraptions around?” she exclaimed, dancing on her hooves.

David fist-pumped but took his celebratory mood down a notch at the Princess’ question. “Well they probably won’t be exactly like the Cry-pod, but who knows? We could find anything!” He turned to the Cry-pod. “Can you get a fix on the signal?”

If the Cry-pod had repaired it’s sarcasm module, it would probably say: ‘What do I look like? Some sort of Hollywood computer hacker? I can’t triangulate a signal sitting here, you dope.’

Instead, it merely replied. “GPS systems offline. I do not possess the capacity to calculate the direction of the signal with a single point of reference. Please provide additional modules to access that capability.”

David slumped at that. He shook his head, falling back to the message he suddenly remembered her should hear. “Can you just play the message?” he asked the Cry-pod.

For a moment the Cry-pod was tempted to ask if the sky was blue, but then it realised it still hadn’t fixed its sarcasm module.

“Playing message. Standby,” it merely intoned mechanically.

A distinctly British-accented voice filled the air as David and Luna listened enraptured to a recording that could very well have been several thousand years old.

‘To Whom It May Concern,

If you are viewing this message then you have been left behind. We are deeply sorry to have missed you, old chap, but fret not! There is a light at the end of the dark tunnel. We have placed, quite graciously I must add, a number of final beacons for a one way trip to our new destination somewhere in the vicinity of Alpha Centauri. We’re not quite sure where we’ll land but I’m fairly certain the boffins at navigations will be able to send the coordinates back. If we are successful, then the next piece of music you will hear will be the God Save the Queen, if not then I’m afraid it’ll just be Eye of the Tiger by Survivor for you. I’m sure the music will help you feel pumped up and whatnot as you survive in the lethal amounts of radiation from our most recent mistake— awfully sorry about that.

Oh yes, here is the music, enjoy it while it lasts!’

At that, David was relieved to hear the British national anthem play.

‘Jolly good, hope you got the ol’ British anthem. The coordinates of the beacon have been encoded in this message, if you know Morse code this should be a piece of cake. Beep BEEP beep BEEP––’

What followed was a bunch of meaningless gobbledegook to David so he tuned it out, intending to ask the Cry-pod about it after. The message continued after the British voice stopped narrating the sequence of Morse code.

‘Sorry about that. Never know what sort of riff raff might tail you when you start a new life in a distant galaxy. We've been told it'll be a marvelous adventure! Hopefully we’ll see you in the future. Cheerio!’

With that, the message ended.

“Goodbye!” Luna shouted at the recording, but it didn’t reply. “Well that was… interesting,” she added. Truthfully, a lot of what was spoken flew right over her head. At one moment it was apologising, at another music started playing like a gramophone and finally it started beeping and booping before cheerily bidding farewell.

“Do you understand anything that voice was saying?” she asked the human, but David was too busy grinning like an idiot. He turned around and grasped the pony hugging her tightly.

“Did you hear that? They’re not here but they exist! I can go home!”

Luna couldn’t help but grin in response. “Good for you, human David. Good for you.” She added the second ‘good’ with a pat on the back. David didn’t have many words, he was too busy crying what she only hoped were tears of joy.