//------------------------------// // The Day It All Came Tumbling Down // Story: Freeport Venture: Come And See // by Chengar Qordath //------------------------------// I was there the day it all came tumbling down. We left the bunker once the worst of the event had passed. After that came the grim task of finding out just how badly we’d been hurt. My first instinct was to start personally investigating, but that was an impulse from my old magus days. I was a ruler now, and rulers didn’t go running around at random helping out one or two ponies. They sat back and coordinated the response so hundreds could be saved. No matter how many times I reminded myself of that, it still felt wrong to stand in the throne room next to Celestia, waiting for the next report to come in. I wanted to be out in the field helping ponies myself, not sitting back and listening to how well other ponies were doing at actually going out and getting something done. Celestia put a gentle hoof on my shoulder, smiling gently. She didn’t say anything, but I could tell she knew what was going through my head. I took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Does it ever get any easier?” Her smile wavered, and a hint of sadness entered her voice. “No.” I sighed and nodded, shifting uncomfortably on my hooves. “Had a feeling that was going to be the answer.” “Leadership is a heavy burden,” Celestia murmured. “But one I know you are capable of bearing. You have done well as Freeport’s Archon, and should you be required to do more than that I am certain you will be up to the challenge.” I grimaced and shook my head. “I’d rather not find out.” She chuckled softly. “For all my faith that you would make a fine successor, I would be perfectly happy if we never had to put that to the test. I have lived a full and rich life, and I would prefer to go on doing so for many years hence.” She leaned in closer and whispered. “Not to mention you haven’t given me any grandchildren to spoil yet...” I groaned and buried my face in my hooves, but couldn’t help laughing a little at the absurdity of the situation. The laughter died in my throat a second later. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing when ... it’s not an appropriate time.” Celestia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I think at times like this, we need laughter more than ever. It reminds us what we’re fighting for, and why our lives are worth living.” I wasn’t going to argue the point. I’d much rather laugh at terrible jokes about Celestia spoiling my hypothetical future heirs than sit around brooding while we waited for the latest casualty reports. Archmagus Twilight Velvet trotted in a few minutes later, carrying a folder. “Your Highness, Archon. We have a few updates.” Celestia nodded gravely. “Go ahead.” Velvet opened up her folder, doing her best to keep her voice clinical and detached. “Our current casualty estimates are at just over one thousand dead, with three times that wounded. There are still many ponies unaccounted for, so both of those figures are likely to rise.” A thousand dead. Probably more. Not a huge blow in the grand strategic scale, but more than enough to be painful. “Do we have an idea how big of an area the anomaly affected? Were there any prominent casualties?” It felt wrong to set some of the dead above others, but this was the capital of Equestria. If half our generals had been time-shifted to oblivion, we needed to know as soon as possible. Velvet grimaced. “Thankfully, the bunkers at the palace, Celestia’s School, West Hoof, and the Kicker Compound protected most of our leaders. Duke Blueblood was the most notable loss, and even if he’s back in diapers he’s still alive. We haven’t heard of any temporal anomalies in any other cities, but it will probably be days before we can be sure that we were the only area affected by this phenomenon.” Celestia frowned and nodded. “I will want to know as soon as we have more information.  Have we identified the source of the temporal anomaly?” Velvet shook her head. “We’ve opened up a preliminary investigation, but at the moment most of our resources are focused on rescue and recovery. We already have several promising lines of inquiry to pursue.” I scowled and stared out the window, to the north. “How many of those working theories say Sombra was responsible for this?” “Most of them,” she admitted. “He is the logical suspect for an attack on this scale. He sent out several statements claiming he would inflict devastation the likes of which the world had never seen to punish us for defeating him. At the time, we assumed it was the usual bluster he does every time he doesn’t get his way. Now...” Celestia nodded, a faint scowl tugging at her lips. “Quite. I want to know exactly how he did this to us and how we can defend against such attacks in the future. I will not allow this to happen again.” “I think we all agree on that point,” the Archmagus answered grimly. “I’ve sent my apprentices to get every single book we have on time alteration. Hopefully we can find something useful, though we do have limited resources to work with. It’s something of an inevitable consequence of how heavily we restrict research into temporal magic.” I grunted and grimaced. “For good reason, considering what happened out there.” Celestia sighed and nodded. “Pity Sombra cares nothing for what magic we deem too dangerous to use. If anything, the knowledge that we have forbidden it would make him even more likely to attempt such spells.” I took a deep breath. “I’d like to have some of my magi help with the research. It never hurts to have a couple extra sets of eyes.” Velvet turned to Celestia expectantly, awaiting her answer. Celestia barely needed a second to think it over before answering. “Give them the same level of access one of our own magi of equivalent rank would hold.” She smiled at me. “I trust you will give your word that they behave themselves?” I smirked and nodded. “I’ll tell them to keep their voices down and not spill any drinks or dogear the pages. I’ll make sure they know all your security procedures, and I’ll deal with any violations of your protocols appropriately.” I paused a moment, then asked. “You haven’t changed the rules too much since I left, have you?” “Not too significantly.” Celestia grinned teasingly. “Though certain texts on pyromancy might be a bit harder for certain overeager young students to get their hooves on. We wouldn’t want them trying a spell that’s a bit too advanced and accidently burning off half their tail.” I sniffed haughtily. “I have no idea what you could possibly be hinting at, Your Highness.” Archmagus Velvet lifted a single eyebrow at our exchange, then got back to business. “If the Freeport magi can contribute, then I would hardly complain. We could certainly use all the help we can get.” “You have it,” I assured her. Celestia nodded firmly. “I want this to be one of our highest priorities. If this can happen to someplace like Canterlot, then it could happen anywhere in Equestria. If Sombra can target our military forces, he could undo everything we’ve accomplished with Archon Shimmer’s help—not to mention the panic we’ll have on our hooves if word gets out that Sombra has a means of magically attacking our cities that we can’t defend against.” “Agreed.” The Archmagus frowned and rubbed her chin. “You might recall that you sent my daughter to investigate a possible temporal incident a week ago. I would like to send someone to see if she’s learned anything. It could just be a coincidence given how dubious the report was—I doubt a factory worker named after an alcoholic beverage has formal education in advanced temporal theory and mechanics.” “She doesn’t need to go to a university to have working eyes and ears,” I countered. “What exactly was in her report?” “She claimed to have encountered a time travelling alicorn who showed her a magical crystal table.” The skepticism in Velvet’s voice was obvious. Well when she put it like that, it did sound pretty dubious. However, one detail stood out quite strongly. “A crystal table?” “Hmm.” Celestia’s lips thinned as she pressed them together. “Sombra does like crystals.” I nodded, not liking where this led. “Do you think your daughter would be able to confirm if there’s anything to this report? As questionable as certain elements of it are, between the timing and some of the details...” Velvet frowned and nodded. “Twilight’s a very intelligent young mare, and eager to prove herself. She’s very capable when given a challenge she’s prepared for that suits her abilities. She’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on.” I decided to ignore the implied criticism of Celestia’s teaching methods. Not that I didn’t have issues of my own with her style, but it really wasn’t germane to the matter at hoof. “Let’s get a report from her. Send someone out to check on results or else call her back to Canterlot to present them herself, whichever would work better.” The Archmagus raised an eyebrow, then rather pointedly turned to face Celestia. Evidently I’d overstepped by outright giving her orders. Celestia stepped in to smooth over the wrinkle. “I would also be very interested in hearing what Twilight has to say. Also, to avoid any potential confusion, Archon Shimmer should be included in all briefings, and any suggestions she might offer should be followed so long as they do not directly contradict my orders.” She softly cleared her throat, then added, “If I should be absent or unavailable for an extended period of time, you may assume that she speaks in my stead.” The older mare’s eyes darted between the two of us, her face shifting to a carefully unreadable mask. “Ah. I see. Very well then.” She was silent for a few moments longer, presumably working out exactly why Celestia would give me so much trust and authority. She didn’t let that distract her for too long. “If there is nothing else, I will contact my daughter at once and inform both of you of whatever she has learned.” Celestia smiled gratefully. “Thank you very much for all your hard work, Archmagus. I know I have asked a great deal of you, your daughter, and the ponies under your command. I will not forget your efforts.” I figured I should say something too. “If you need any additional resources, let me know. Freeport would be more than happy to assist its ally.” “Naturally, Archon.” Her eyes flicked between myself and Celestia one more time, then she bowed to her princess and turned to go. Once she was out of the room, Celestia turned to me with a knowing smile. “I think she might have guessed my plans for you. Or at least, she suspects there’s more to this than a mere alliance between two foreign powers.” I shrugged. “She didn’t become an Archmagus without having a good head on her shoulders.” A frown worked its way onto my face as I thought over just how much groundwork she was laying for a possible succession. “This is only a contingency plan, right? You don’t think anything’s actually going to happen, you just want to make sure we’re ready for the worst-case scenario.” Ever since she’d informed me of her plans, a part of me had wondered if there was more to it than what she’d told me. Celestia always seemed to just ... know things. What if she’d gotten some hint that she needed to start preparing for her own death? She must’ve been able to tell what was going through my mind, because she put a reassuring hoof on my shoulder. “Yes, Sunset. It’s nothing but a backup plan.” A mischievous grin flickered across her lips. “And, of course, it’s a means of binding you more tightly to Equestria, so that I can undermine Freeport’s independence and eventually annex it.” “That’s a joke, right?” Celestia’s smile widened, though she said nothing. I groaned and rubbed my forehead. “I don’t remember you messing with me this much back when I was a student.” “That’s because you were my student,” she answered easily. “I was in a position of authority over you and had to act responsibly. Now you are my daughter, my friend, my heir, and my political ally. All positions that allow me far more leeway.” I snorted. “So that’s your excuse?” She grinned. “You have to admit, it’s a very thorough one.” I chuckled and nodded. If teasing me made her happier than she’d been since this whole war started, I wasn’t going to object. She needed every bit of joy she could get. “You think Velvet will talk about what she suspects?” “No, she’s always been very discrete.” Celestia shrugged. “Though rumors might well spread from some other source. Anypony with eyes can see that we are very close and have been spending a great deal of time together, and your prior association with me is no secret. I’m sure there are many who suspect I might name you as my heir simply from the facts anypony on the street could glean. I doubt it will be an issue, in any case. If anything, the rumors will raise your status and help prepare everypony should the worst happen.” “That makes sense.” Puzzle had done a few similar things to help me build up my position in Freeport—either planting rumors to prepare the ground, or planting false ones so I would catch everyone by surprise when I did the opposite of what they suspected. “I think I’m okay with it slowly leaking out into the public, as long as we keep it looking good. I don’t want ponies thinking I only agreed to help you in exchange for this or something.” Celestia smirked. “I imagine half of Freeport would think more highly of you if they believed you’d driven a hard bargain instead of helping me without expecting any reward.” “In my defense, there is a lot of self-interest for Freeport,” I pointed out. “If Sombra wins this war, he won’t stop at Equestria’s borders. Even if he didn’t come after us right away, Equestria makes for a much better neighbor than an expansionist hegemonic empire.” “That’s true, but it’s not the main reason you wanted to help me.” She leaned down and whispered with a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your hidden altruistic side.” “I’d appreciate it,” I shot back. “I have a reputation to maintain.” She smiled and nodded. “Very good then. And on the note of establishing expectations, I think that once this crisis is over we can do a few more things to help with that.” I took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, probably a good idea.” I grinned at her. “You know, if Puzzle was here, he'd probably tell me to take full advantage of this and chase after some of those silly fillyhood dreams I gave up on a long time ago.” Celestia rose, a cryptic grin on her lips. “Those silly dreams of your might not be so distant as you think. In fact, they might be coming true very soon indeed.” What? Did she mean... She couldn’t possibly mean... I would’ve asked for clarification, but by the time I’d gotten over my surprise Celestia was long gone. I sighed and grumbled under my breath. “She always has to have the last word...” I slept through Twilight Sparkle’s return to Canterlot. I’d been a bit annoyed with Celestia when she hadn’t sent anyone to wake me up, but I couldn’t exactly disagree that I’d needed the sleep. I’d been up half the night making sure we were doing everything possible to help out with the recovery operations. The worst of the damage seemed to have been contained for the moment, but morale was still very shaky. Nobody knew what had happened or how we could stop it from happening again, and rumors were circulating that other cities had been attacked. Once I was reasonably awake, Celestia sent her student to brief me. The younger mare was nervously pacing back and forth while looking over her notes when Kukri showed her into my quarters. Celestia had given me an entire suite of the palace for my retinue, and judging by some of the decorations, it had belonged to Cadenza before she’d died. Part of me wanted to redecorate so it would suit its new occupants, but another felt that doing so might be disrespectful. I never liked Cadenza, but that didn’t mean I wanted to spit on her grave. Besides, I had much larger concerns at the moment. I was waiting behind my desk when Twilight nervously shuffled in. “A-Archon Sunset Shimmer?” She bowed despite the fact that I wasn’t royalty, which made several sheets of paper fall out of her folder. She quickly scooped them back up, shooting me a nervously apologetic smile strained by her obvious social anxiety. “Sorry! Um, you wanted to see me? I mean, Princess Celestia sent me—to see you, that is. So, um, if you maybe want to hear my report I could ... you know ... give it.” I tried to keep things professional so she would calm down a little. “Proceed.” She cleared her throat, then opened up her folder. I noticed several notecards hastily stapled to the inside of the folder with an outline of her briefing. “So, I’ve been studying the reports of the temporal anomaly in Ponyville. Pursuant to that, I interviewed a pony by the name of Applejack. This ... is where things start to get weird, Archon Sunset. I know what some I'm about to say might sound unbelievable but...” I threw a little quick reassurance her way. “I’ll withhold judgement until you finish your report and present your evidence.” She took a deep breath, her shoulders hunching up as if she was already bracing for a reprimand. “Right. Um, so, Applejack claimed to have been contacted by a pony who—now please work with me here—looked exactly like me. Only as an alicorn.” She let out a strained, nervous laugh. “I swear I’m not making this up.” Kukri shot a skeptical look her way, easily sliding into the role of my verbal attack dog. She would ask Twilight the hard questions, while I stayed above the fray as a reasonable and objective leader. “You were right. This one finds that quite difficult to believe.” Twilight groaned. “I know, I know it sounds insane. But that’s what she told me. What’s more, this pony who claimed to be an alicorn version of me showed Applejack what looked to be a crystal table with some sort of illusionary map of Equestria. This pony said that everything was wrong and that she was going to fix it.” “Anything else?” I asked, keeping my tone gentle and probing. Twilight took a deep breath. “Yes, she said a pony by the name of Starlight Glimmer was responsible for changing the past and that she had to stop her. She then disappeared along with what I’m guessing was a baby dragon familiar into some sort of portal.” Kukri sniffed skeptically. “This one finds that deeply implausible. Do we have any evidence of this beyond a single pony’s words?” Twilight’s ears wilted at the criticism, and I decided to bolster her up a bit. “I’m sure she’s just accurately relaying Applejack’s words.” That at least kept Twilight from crumbling on the spot, and after a second to consult her notes she continued. “This is what she told me. To be honest, I didn’t exactly believe her either. When she claimed that I was the alicorn she encountered, I thought she was probably trying to play a prank on me, or just making things up on the spot. However, when I examined the location where she claimed she saw the massive crystal map, I found some very solid evidence of some sort of temporal event.” She started going into the details of exactly what she’d found. It was all very interesting, but I cut her off to avoid spending hours checking her raw data. “Your preliminary findings?” I prompted. She rifled through her papers, evidently wrong-footed by my jumping ahead. “I’m detecting some kind of ... chronometric bleedover due to temporal instability. Near as I could tell, the anomaly is consistent with some sort of major temporal event, and that anomaly is now causing increased instability within the broader fabric of spacetime.” “So you think that was responsible for what happened in Canterlot?” I asked. Kukri grimaced and whispered to me. “While you were resting, we received reports of similar incidents in Fillydelphia, Las Pegasus, and Baltimare.” Damn. Some part of me had hoped what happened in Canterlot was an isolated incident. Now it looked like it was just the first in a string of disasters. If four major cities had been hit, there were probably also a lot of problems in rural areas or empty wilderness. Who knew how many problems had gone completely unreported? Twilight took a deep breath. “I’ve only seen some preliminary reports as far as what happened here, but what I’ve read of the investigation team’s data seems to match up with what I found in Ponyville. I can’t say for sure that they’re the same thing, but it looks close enough that maybe we should investigate further.” I agreed with our conclusion. “For the moment, it’s one of the only leads we have. Even if it’s just a side effect or similar unrelated phenomenon, it might give us useful data. Did you find any evidence to confirm Sombra's involvement?” Twilight frowned and shook her head. “No. Sombra's magic has a very distinct signature to it, and this doesn’t have it. I think Sombra would probably have insisted on being personally involved in any attack on Canterlot. He’s shown a consistent psychological tendency towards megalomania. There’s also the fact that he didn’t immediately claim credit for the attack, and his forces haven’t tried to launch a new offensive.” Kukri frowned and shook her head. “He’s also never used time-altering magic before. It is possible that he’s changing tactics in the wake of his defeat.” I grimaced and added. “Not to mention that these temporal instabilities seem to be getting worse. Maybe he’s holding his army back because he doesn’t want them to get caught up in what he’s doing to us.” Sombra wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice a few of his pawns, but he still liked to have something to show for his efforts. “Sombra is still the most likely suspect,” Kukri agreed, turning back to face Twilight. “If it isn’t him, then what is the source of this anomaly? Surely you don’t believe the Apple-pony’s story? It sounds like something she cobbled together simply to put you off guard.” Twilight frowned uncertainly. “She sounded sincere when I spoke to her. When she first saw me she was pretty confused—she thought I was the one pulling her leg with some kind of trick. It took me a while just to convince her to tell me her story, since at first she told me I should already know it since I was there.” “Hmm.” Kukri turned back to me. “It’s possible the Apple-pony simply encountered oddities due to her proximity to the anomaly, or else is suffering from some mental illness. This one supposes we could do a psychological assessment...” I shook my head. “Right now it doesn’t matter if she’s a good liar, delusional, or crazy. Our first priority needs to be containing the anomaly.” I thought it over for a second, then added, “I’ll have Strumming follow up with her.” The spy would probably be a lot better at spotting lies than a sheltered student, and Strumming’s unique personality would probably throw Applejack off-balance and show any weak spots in her story. I put my full attention on Twilight. “What do you think we should do?” She blinked in shock, taking an instinctive half-step back. “M-me?” “The Archon asked you a question,” Kukri answered, a bit more firmly that was strictly needed. Twilight’s shoulders hunched again, and she looked like she desperately wanted to disappear into the floor. “Um, I would recommend we immediately build a containment circle at the breach site. I would say we need to get at least a temporary one in place as soon as possible, and then upgrade to a long-term solution once the immediate crisis has passed. We might want to start the process for the building of a full adamantine circle. I—I could draw up a design for what we probably need.” I nodded. “Alright. Do it.” “Wh-what?” She stumbled over her own words in shock. “I can’t—I’m just...” She trailed off uncertainly and after several seconds swallowed and managed to be a bit more coherent. “Are you sure you want me to, um, there are probably more qualified ... my preliminary design ideas are probably way too expensive...” I cut her off before she could keep coming up with more excuses. “If we don’t do something to contain these time storms, they’ll just keep getting worse, right?” Twilight nodded. “And they could potentially get so bad that Equestria or even the entire planet would be devastated, right?” She nodded again. “Then I think how much our solution costs isn’t the main thing we need to worry about.” “Oh ... right.” Twilight swallowed nervously. “But shouldn’t you have, um, somepony more ... experienced check it out first? I might be wrong. I mean, Mom—Archmagus Velvet said she would send someone to investigate Ponyville, and my design’s—” I waved her concerns away. “Right now, you know more than anyone else about the anomaly in Ponyville. Even if your design isn't perfect, it gives us a starting point.” Kukri nodded. “This one will check over your design once it’s submitted, along with whichever magi the White Pony assigns. We will thoroughly check everything before we pass it on to the Archon and White Pony, who will doubtless do further checks themselves. How soon can we expect something from you, Sparkle-mare?” “Um...” She looked down at her hooves, awkwardly scuffing the floor. “I sort of made a design on the train on the way to Canterlot. I haven’t triple-checked my work yet, but I think it could maybe help a little.” She hesitantly pulled out a scroll. Kukri took it without a moment’s hesitation. “This one will look it over, then. By your leave, Shimmer-mare?” I nodded, and she stepped out. That left me alone in the room with Twilight Sparkle. The younger mare’s shoulders immediately tensed up, as if she were expecting a long lecture about how many things she’d done horribly wrong. I mentally sighed—it was going to take a lot of work to make a proper magus out of this nervous wreck. Might as well get started on it. “Has Celestia informed you of your new assignment?” Twilight swallowed nervously and slowly nodded. “She s-said that I’m working for you now.” “That’s correct.” I didn’t say anything else, waiting for her to make the first move. If she was going to be part of my retinue from now on, it only made sense to get a feel for her. There had to be more to her than just a smart unicorn with abysmal social skills and zero self-confidence. Twilight shrunk down on herself, her voice soft. “So she finally decided to get rid of me.” She continued on, talking far more to herself than me. “I was just waiting for it to happen. Ever since ... I failed her, things have never been the same. I tried working harder, tried to find a way to please her, make her happy with me again but...” She sniffled and wiped tears out of her eyes. “It wasn’t the same. After the war started, I asked if she would like to spend some time to drink some tea and eat a slice of cake, like the old days. Just to take our minds off ... everything. She said no, she was too busy. I tried a couple more times over the years, and...” She shrank back towards the door. “I’m surprised she didn't send me away sooner, honestly. It’s not like I deserve to be here, and I wouldn’t blame her for hating me after everything I did.” Well, that was about what I’d expected to see out of her after what I’d heard from Celestia. Of course Twilight would put all the blame on herself. “Celestia’s been having a rough time, Twilight. She doesn’t hate you.” Despite all the cynicism I’d gained from my years at Freeport, I didn’t think Celestia was really capable of hating anyone. She didn’t even hate Sombra. She was mad at him, and determined to stop him, but hate just ... wasn’t how she was. She certainly wouldn’t hate one of her own students. “Of course she does,” Twilight mumbled dejectedly. “None of...” One of her hooves waved about in a vague seeking motion. “None of this would have happened if not for me. I mean, Sombra would’ve come back regardless, but Equestria would have been better prepared if I hadn’t failed when Princess Celestia needed me. She and Luna beat Sombra together the first time. If Her Highness hadn't been forced to kill her sister because of me...” Right, time to be a bit less diplomatic. “It wasn’t because of you. She was forced to kill Nightmare Moon because she was a madmare who wanted to destroy the world.” “No, it was because I couldn’t figure out how to stop her!” Twilight shouted, choking up. “She’s dead because of me. Because I couldn’t ... everything went wrong because I failed her.” She closed her eyes as tears slowly leaked out of them. “Now Luna’s dead, my brother is dead, Cadey’s dead, and everypony in Equestria knows somepony they’ve lost.” Her eyes shot back up to me, a tiny coal of resentment burning behind her eyes. “I heard a lot about you, you know. After I failed, and you became Archon. Ponies talking about how much better you are than me when they think I can’t hear—or sometimes when they know I can. How I might’ve been a disappointment, but at least Celestia has one student she can be proud of.” Alright, screw diplomacy. I was never great at sweet-talking anyway. “Has anypony ever told you that you’re really full of yourself?” Whatever she’d been expecting, that wasn’t it. “Wh-what?” I snorted and shook my head. “You really think that Nightmare Moon and Sombra coming back is entirely your fault? That you could save Equestria all by yourself, and we’re all doomed because you didn’t do it? Doesn’t Nightmare Moon have some responsibility for her own actions? Not to mention that whatever happened with Nightmare Moon happened when you were still just a student. When a student screws up, it isn’t always their fault. Sometimes, you have to blame the teacher.” I think I’d shocked and offended her far less when I called her arrogant. “But-but-but—she’s the princess! She never makes a mistake!” I snorted and shook my head. “Horseapples she doesn’t. Don’t get me wrong, Celestia’s a wonderful, brilliant, and wise mare, and I’ll probably never be half of what she is, but she makes mistakes. She threw you into a situation you weren’t ready for. That sounds like a mistake to me. Why do you think I moved thousands of miles away from her once I was done being her student?” To say nothing of the circumstances regarding my departure. Twilight’s ears drooped. “I ... don't know. Her Highness never talked about it. I didn’t even really know about you until later on. I asked why you were in Freeport, but she always deflected. Said she would talk about it some other time, or brought up some new project for me.” “Well, let’s talk about it now.” It was a bit surprising how long ago it had all been. A part of me still couldn’t believe my fight with her had been half a lifetime ago. When did I get so old? “Celestia and I both made mistakes, and we got into a fight. We settled things after, but decided it was best for both of us if I stopped being her student. I wound up taking a ship out of Equestria and landed in Freeport.” I didn’t need to give her all the messy details. Most of that was best left in the past, and there was no point in reopening old wounds. “Oh.” She shuffled uncertainly. “I always assumed it was all part of some grand plan she had for you. That she sent you to Freeport so you would one day become Archon and make it an ally of Equestria.” “Nope.” Though now that she brought it up, some small paranoid part of my mind couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Celestia had somehow set all that up. I hoped not—it would make everything I’d accomplished pretty meaningless. “The thing to remember from that story is that while Celestia’s the best teacher in the world, she’s still not a perfect teacher. She gets too close to her students, and likes to let us figure things out on our own. I wouldn’t say those are problems, but ... sometimes it’s not what we need.” “Oh.” She threw a curious look my way. “So ... um ... did you...” She hesitated, her cheeks lighting up as she nervously whispered. “D-did you have a crush on her too?” I blinked. Twilight had a crush on Celestia? Ew. “No. No I did not.” “Oh.” Twilight’s eyes fell off to the side, shuffling awkwardly. I decided to move on from that deeply uncomfortable and rather disgusting revelation. “Let’s be clear: I’m not Celestia. I’m not letting you sit in the library or drift around aimlessly. We’re at war, and I need you to do your part. For now, you will assist Magus Doo in going over your proposal until both of you are confident it will work.” Twilight bit her lip, hesitating. “I-if you're sure...” “I am.” I decided to ease up a bit on the hardass routine for a few seconds, getting up from behind the desk and going over to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I know you’re an intelligent young mare who’s capable of accomplishing a lot when she sets her mind to it.” A tentative smile worked its way onto her face as she regained a tiny bit of confidence. ...okay, that was enough kind nurturing. “So I expect results from you. In four hours.” Twilight’s smile faded into a grimace. “I ... I think I understand.” “Good.” I went back to my desk and took a seat. “Any questions?” She took a deep breath. “Um, did you want all my work in double or triplicate?” I shook my head. “Just one backup copy. We’re on a tight timeline.” She nodded slowly. “Right, I think I can do that.” I frowned at her. “Don’t tell me you think you can do it. Do it.” Twilight blinked in surprise, her eyes flicking back to the door. “Um, is that your way of saying I should get to work?” I didn’t say anything, since the answer to that question was obvious. “Right, I better get going then.” She rushed out the door. Once she was safely away, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Hopefully that had been the right move. It was hard not to feel like almost a bit of a bully when I was being so forceful with her, but it was what she needed. At the very least, trying something very different from Celestia’s way of doing things should shake her up a bit and get her out of the rut she was in. With any luck, she’d rise to the occasion and start showing off the potential that had gotten Celestia’s attention in the first place. Hopefully sooner rather than later. There was a war to win. We assembled in Ponyville two days later. I would’ve liked a bit more time to check over all the plans, but we’d already double-checked everything and the temporal anomalies were getting worse. Ponies were at least prepared for them now, and we’d gotten everyone to the emergency shelters pretty smoothly. However, one of the bunkers was bound to fail eventually. They just weren’t made to stand up to massive, highly destructive temporal anomalies. Celestia and I had brought every magus we could spare to help with the ritual. It left us weaker on the front lines than we would’ve liked, but if we didn’t do something to close the rift the war would be a moot issue. All the models and data agreed that if we left this thing unchecked the devastation and loss of life would be incalculable. It was so bad that Celestia had even floated the idea of sending messengers to Sombra requesting a truce so we could work together to stabilize the anomaly. We’d dropped the idea in the end. Even leaving aside that he was probably behind the rift and would try to turn any effort to contain it to his advantage, there just wasn’t time to make any such arrangements. I met up with Celestia while she was in the middle of looking over several crates full of ritual materials. Runestones, sealing circles, foci, and a dozen other things that could’ve potentially been damaged in transit. Fortunately, everything seemed to be alright. She shot a tired smile my way when she saw me. “I hope everything is going well.” I returned her smile, probably looking about as worn out as she did. The last couple days had been hard on all of us. “It looks like we’ve got everything in order. The only thing left to worry about is making the actual plan come together. All of it looked good on paper, and Kukri checked it over half a dozen times with Twilight. It’s really impressive work.” Kukri, who was busily doing her part going over all the ritual preparations, grinned and puffed her chest up a bit when she overheard me praising her. By contrast, Twilight buried her nose deeper into a folder full of plans, trying to avoid notice. Celestia smiled and nodded. “I don't doubt it. You'll have every reason to be proud of her when this works. I’m sure Twilight was quite helpful in assisting her.” Twilight’s ears wilted and she buried her nose deeper into the book. I scowled and immediately tossed up a privacy spell around myself and Celestia. As soon as I was sure nobody would overhear us, I let her have it. “Twilight Sparkle has spent years trying to win your approval. You could at least not publicly snub her and downplay her accomplishments in front of half the magi in Equestria and Freeport.” Celestia blinked and took half a step back. “I—that was not my intention.” “But it’s what you did,” I countered. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but nothing came out. After several seconds of awkward silence, she sighed and lowered her head. “You’re right. I have not been the best teacher to her. After what happened to Luna ... it has been hard. Especially since Twilight was involved in that regrettable incident. Perhaps ... perhaps I have been less than an ideal teacher to her. I will make amends with her once this is settled, and try to do better in the future.” “Good.” I dropped the privacy spell, revealing a lot ponies who were trying way too hard to look like they hadn’t been paying attention to us. I pointedly clearer my throat. “So, shall we get started on stabilizing the rift?” A chorus of nods met my declaration. “The sooner, the better,” Kukri added. “Agreed,” Celestia declared with a firm nod. “I will rest much easier once I know that at least this threat to the safety of my subjects has been dealt with.” She turned to Twilight and smiled. “Thank you very much for bringing this to our attention, Twilight.” The relieved smile on Twilight face made the difficult conversation with Celestia worth it. As Celestia stepped past her, Twilight shot a quick nod my way as well. Even with the privacy spell hiding our conversation, it didn’t take a genius to guess that my talk with Celestia had played a role in her sudden about-face. As we approached the site of the anomaly itself, I felt a frown growing on my face. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected it to look like, but I’d certainly expected ... something. Twilight had roped the area off with dozens of warning signs, but that was the only real indication of the danger aside from a few patches of dusty grassless earth. “Huh. I expected ... more.” “Looks can be deceiving,” Kukri muttered. “A huge glowing portal in the sky would be easy to find and deal with. Often the greatest threat of all is the one we cannot see.” Twilight nodded. “When Applejack first led me here, I didn’t think there was anything worth finding. Then she tossed an apple through it, and the apple rotted away and regrew a dozen times before it hit the ground.” I grunted and started using magic to see what my eyes couldn’t. Those results made up for all the dramatic revelations I’d missed before. “This is ... big. It’s gotten worse since the last time you checked it.” “It’s been steadily expanding since I first observed it,” Twilight confirmed. “If we don’t contain it now, it might never stop growing. It’s kind of amazing in its own way. I kind of wish I had more time to study it, but...” She shrugged. “This one knows exactly how you feel,” Kukri agreed. “This is Magic with a big ‘M’. It finally understands what the Shimmer-mare means when she says magic isn’t just spells, but one of the fundamental forces of creation.” I nodded slowly. “We could learn more about the nature of time in one year of studying this thing than we have in centuries. Shame it’s way too dangerous to leave unsealed. Maybe we can still get some useful information out of it after we contain it.” “Perhaps, but that is a concern for another day.” Celestia stepped forward, putting the first of many runestones in position. “Come on now, we have much to do, and I don’t want to talk about the scientific possibilities of studying this phenomenon while ponies are dying.” I grunted my agreement and set up the second stone. The rest of the magi joined in on the effort, and before long Celestia and I had stepped back from actually working to supervise everyone else. This was an extremely delicate ritual, and misplacing a single runestone or putting the circle out of alignment could mess everything up. The preparations were almost painful. Part of me wanted to rush through everything as fast as possible to get it taken care of before another incident happened, but I also knew that we had to get everything exactly right. It was like a constant tug-of-war between impatience and caution, and neither one would ever be satisfied. Finally, after what seemed like both far too much time and far too little, everything was ready. Kukri and I did one last check, and then one more just to be safe despite one corner of my brain screaming to get on with it. Kukri took a deep breath, then slowly nodded. “This one thinks we’re ready, Shimmer-mare.” Twilight had finished her own circuit of the ritual site as well. “Everything seems alright. At least, I didn’t see anything wrong.” Celestia cleared her throat and stepped into the lead position of the ritual circle. “Is everyone ready?” A chorus of assent answered her question. “Then let us begin.” I started channeling energy into the massive spell matrix we’d meticulously constructed. A moment later I felt Celestia’s strength flowing in next to mine. Her magic felt like the sun itself, warm and gentle at first, but with an almost terrifying amount of raw power. Kukri joined me moments later. Compared the torrent of power Celestia had, hers was barely a trickle. My apprentice had tons of skill and practice, but raw power had never been her forte. She probably never would’ve become a magus under normal circumstances in all reality, but what she lacked in raw power and talent, she’d more than made up for with lots of hard work, sheer determination, and a unique perspective on magic. Not to mention that she had quite a few mundane skills to supplement her magic thanks to her family background. The last of the ponies I recognized was Twilight, whose magic was the total opposite of Kukri’s: more raw untapped potential than I’d ever seen out of a unicorn before, and I was including myself. If she ever fully realized it she’d be a powerhouse. Easily an archmagus, and probably a lot more than that if all of Celestia’s plans had worked out. It would be interesting to see how she turned out after a few more years of training and experience to refine her potential. The barriers started going up over the anomaly. The spell matrix fell into place. We stemmed the outwards flow of twisting space and began closing the rift. The breach in reality began to shrink as the edges were slowly weaved back, like filling up a sinkhole. I expanded my reach, reinforcing, correcting, and connecting spell matrices with shimmering beams of power. Everything was going according to plan. Then it started going wrong.  A massive surge of energy crashed over us like an inbound tide, and all the barriers we’d carefully constructed started crumbling like sand. I rebuilt them as fast as possible, but it was like trying to drain the ocean with a teaspoon. By the time I could secure one anchor point half a dozen others had collapsed. “What’s going on?! It wasn’t supposed to react this way!” Kukri groaned, sweat pouring down her face. “This one doesn’t know!” “It’s another temporal surge!” Twilight shouted. “Like what happened in Canterlot!” Oh no. This time, we didn’t have a bunker to fall back to, and we were at ground zero for the whole thing. Not to mention that this time storm looked like it was going to be much worse. Twilight had warned us they were getting bigger and bigger. Kukri hissed in pain and started muttering a string of very inventive profanities under her breath. “Lock it down, lock it down, lock it down!” Celestia clenched her teeth and narrowed her eyes, and I felt more of her power go surging into the spell matrix. “Brace yourselves everyone! We have to hold it!” I growled and followed her example, throwing everything I could spare into propping up the barriers. A dull throb of pain started working down my horn into my forehead as I tried to do far too many things with far too much magic in far too little time. Not everyone could manage the effort. One of the magi—I couldn’t even tell if it was one of mine or one of Celestia’s—suddenly dropped out of the circle. A second later he started screaming as he aged and deteriorated in front of our eyes, becoming a shriveled desiccated corpse in mere seconds. Twilight groaned and tried to take up the slack left behind by the dead magus. “It’s breaking down! This wasn’t supposed to be done during a wild magic surge! We have to fall back to safety and try again later!” “Where the feather’s safety?!” Kukri snapped back, ichor trickling out of her nose as she struggled to hold up her end of the spell. She was right. Celestia and I could teleport away, and probably Twilight too, if Celestia had taught her that spell. But Kukri had never managed it, and the rest of the magi here would be completely doomed if we left the circle. Not to mention the risks of trying any form of dimensional travel right next to a huge distortion in spacetime. If I tried teleporting away, I’d probably end up with half my body being one year old and other half being a thousand. Our only hope was to hold out and contain the storm. It couldn’t last forever. More and more magi dropped out of the circle, their power exhausted by the effort. The more we lost, the heavier the burden was for those who remained. Eventually, not even our strongest magi could hold the line. The light from Twilight Velvet’s horn started to flicker. “I ... I can’t...” Her face began to ripple and change, the crow’s feet around her eyes, smile lines, and a dozen other subtle signs of the many years she’d lived fading away. Within moments she looked the same age as her daughter, and I knew it wouldn’t stop there. Just when I’d thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, Twilight Sparkle saw what was happening. “MOM!” Twilight’s concentration slipped completely, her focus lost at the sight of her mother in mortal peril. Velvet’s eyes widened. “Twilight, don’t—” A blast of energy shot out as the circle broke completely, shattering at the weak point created by Twilight Sparkle’s distraction. A spear of raw energy transfixed her, and in a blinding flash of light the promising young mare became nothing more than a pile of dust. Twilight Velvet’s eyes widened in horror at her daughter’s fate. The dust slowly blew away, and she took deep breath. She closed her eyes, then stopped casting entirely. She joined her child a heartbeat later. The last remnants of the spell matrix collapsed entirely. Celestia managed to grab the few remaining shards of power and wrap them around us, keeping me and Kukri safe along with her. The rest of the magi died in an instant, and I knew we wouldn’t be far behind. Even with me and Kukri supporting her, the ad-hoc barrier she’d tossed up around us would only hold out for a few minutes at best. From what I could see outside of it, that wouldn’t be enough. All she’d done was buy us enough time to prepare for death. I couldn’t believe it. How could it all have gone so horribly wrong so fast? So many lives snuffed out in an instant. Magi I’d known for years gone in an instant, not to mention what would be happening in the world outside our tiny little bubble of safety. The temporal anomalies that had hit Canterlot would be just a taste of the horrors everyone would face now. I desperately turned to my old teacher. “I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t ... how ... how are we going to get out of this one?” Celestia took a deep breath, then solemnly declared. “We won’t.” Her eyes flicked to Kukri. After a few seconds the changeling’s eyes widened, and she slowly nodded. Celestia turned back to me, smiling gently. “But you will.” I realized a moment too late what they were planning to do. “No! Don’t—” “This one loves you,” Kukri murmured. The barrier shrank down to only cover me. I had just enough time to watch them die before it solidified completely.