The clock in the grand foyer chimed midnight.
Bong.
Welcome to April 21st, everypony.
Bong.
Why did she think she could have changed things?
Bong.
That’s all time travel was. Loops.
Bong.
Stalleonardo never let the book leave his side because Princess Luna told him not to.
Bong.
He’d probably taken the name Stalleonardo because of his encounter with them.
Bong.
Her mind had just been a total blank. How else could she have not remembered reknowned 6th century settler Raven Call?
Bong.
Raven’s Town. Raven Call’s Town. Call’s Town. Calltown. Colton. It should have been obvious.
Bong.
Deep breaths. In. Out. Just like Cadance taught you. Stay calm. What’s done is done.
Bong.
But was that still true when you added time travel into the equation?
Bong.
So far, there had been a grand total of zero paradoxes. Every action that had been taken in the past had contributed to the way the things had worked out the first time around.
Bong.
Was it even possible to overwrite previous events?
Bong.
Was that how the spell worked?
For the first several minutes after they’d returned from the past, Twilight had been inconsolable, despite the best efforts of Princess Luna and Spike. She’d never before started a catastrophic chain of events which destroyed a pony’s life, and she hoped she never would again. It was even worse knowing the exact outcome, one she’d seen in Hoofington only a week ago now. He’d never be able to tell that he’d transcribed the spell slightly wrong.
The Princess had all but dragged her back to the castle, with her magic still clinging tightly to the Iris. In the meantime, Spike had offered to stay behind and assist the doctors with Reeds Melody, who had expressed multiple non-sequiturs about coffee before conking out again. Fortunately, the Princess confirmed that her trouble, at least, was over; her sleep was now natural and her dream was no longer bleeding. That seemed to be just about the only good thing that had come out of the entire experience. Hopefully she’d regard the entire sequence as a dream itself and forget all about it. While Twilight thought she should get to know her better later, and made a mental note to do so, for now she was glad she didn’t have to deal with at least that any more.
Given that it was midnight, they were unlikely to be able to wake Princess Celestia. Ever since her sister had resumed her duties with the moon, the solar alicorn had started sleeping like a log. She would only receive a report of the situation at dawn. Honestly that may have been for the best. Twilight really didn’t want to be in front of her when the Princess discovered that her current personal student had just screwed up the life of her first one.
So now…
The unicorn was lying on one of the plush benches in the foyer, being mostly successful in her attempts to calm herself down, with the Iris hidden in a bag beside her. Upon arrival, Princess Luna had hurried away to deal with the night court, which had sounded quite rowdy until, presumably, she opened the doors. She was alone with her thoughts.
Good. She needed to recap.
Thought journal, bookmarked entry; April 20 CE 1001, 12:04AM
Once again I find myself needing to recap, get my thoughts in order. If I don’t, well, I run the risk of falling apart. If Prophetia did that to Sweeping Stroke, I don’t want the same to happen to me.
So to recap the previous day’s events for a noted record of where I stand. The whole Reeds Melody line of enquiry is done bar a couple of details which I intend to ask her about when she wakes up. Those points, chiefly, are:
1) Where did you get the Iris?
2) …Okay, I can’t think of a second thing. That’s it.
I don’t for one second believe that there are two Irises. You can’t just duplicate a magical charm like that and have it feel exactly the same, there would be subtle differences, and the more powerful the charm, the more pronounced those differences would be. The Iris I have here, which is the one that Reeds Melody had, and the Iris Trixie has, are 100% the same object. Given that we’re messing with time travel here, that provides a suitable explanation for the how. The main question here is the when.
Thinking about it, there are only two possible situations (excluding alternate universes, which would really complicate things and I hope to Celestia that that isn’t what I’m dealing with). Either this Iris becomes Trixie’s Iris, or vice versa. With the amount of power involved it’s more likely to be the former, which means that at some point this Iris is going to be time traveling again, and it’s going to end up in the Meditation Chamber where I pick it up in 990.
A noise broke her from her concentration; she couldn’t help but smile as her eyes focused on Princess Celestia’s Scribe, Raven, crossing the foyer with an absurdly long scroll and a preposterously huge mug of coffee. Not all of the day staff could sleep the same as their royal.
Reeds Melody. Right. I can only get from her how she got the Iris, but now that I’ve got it, what route is it going to take to get back to 990? …Wait, the prophecy from the Chamber itself. “Six into three split cross the city of 990.” Assuming my original speculation that this means myself and my friends, and the time travel involved, we’re going to take the Iris back to complete the chain.
IRIS TIMELINE: ??? -> Reeds Melody -> Me -> ??? -> Meditation Chamber -> Me -> Trixie… and she still has it.
Speaking of prophecies, I know that I said one as we left 611, but I can’t for the life of me remember what it is. Sweeping Stroke would probably have written it down, those council clerks were trained to write extremely quickly, but he would have written it in the workbook which Trixie has.
That also means that that prophecy has been in there the whole time. That and the Pinkie Pie philosophy. I really should have read it all the way through first.
So where do I stand on some of the mysteries? Well, da Colton’s workbook, obviously. I witnessed its inception, even if I didn’t recognize it at first. Determined to keep his promise to Princess Luna, he kept it by his side his whole life, right up to the still mysterious point where Return was broken, the book was stolen, and somehow ended up in the Ponyville library.
BOOK TIMELINE: (Technically) Me -> Sweeping Stroke/Da Colton -> ??? -> Library -> Trixie. She’s still got that too.
Meanwhile my own personal timeline looks something like:
1001 -> 990 -> 1001 -> 990 -> earlier in 990 -> 1001 -> 611 -> 1001 -> ??? -> 990 and then hopefully back to 1001 again.
Managing multiple timelines like this is such a pain. This is why you don’t abuse time travel.
I’m a little surprised I didn’t encounter any moments from my previous prophecies while we were in the past. Then again, I guess some things have to be done as they come? I should be grateful, really, but I’m still not happy that these things are happening because they’re meant to happen rather than because I make them happen.
…I should go to the Archives and figure out how the time travel spell works.
And while I’m there…
Gaining access to the Canterlot Archives was much easier than last time, though granted last time she’d been horribly sleep deprived and under the impression that there would be some kind of cataclysmic event less than twelve hours following. Now that she had a much clearer head, and she knew exactly what she was doing, it took less than ten minutes to cover the grounds, sign in, and request entry to the Star Swirl the Bearded wing. Fortunately even a year after she’d left Canterlot the guards were perfectly willing to let her in in the middle of the night. Her sleep schedules had been havoc back then.
Technically, the Star Swirl wing was restricted. Twilight had her own pass, though. So long as she didn’t cast anything stupid - and Princess Celestia had granted her a reprieve for the time travel spell - she wouldn’t get her pass canceled.
The Canterlot Archives held some of the oldest written material in Equestria, and Twilight would have loved for some study sessions in which to examine and transcribe them. But that time was not today. She had to find one spell in particular.
Inside, she was pleasantly surprised to see that Chiselgrip’s First had been cleaned up since her previous visit, and was glowing in the moonlight, casting a relaxing green glow around the room. That was a nice touch, even if most ponies wouldn’t get to appreciate it. It would certainly assist with the light level, given that illumination spells had to be dimmed down to avoid damage to the parchment, and open flame torches were expressly forbidden.
It didn’t take long before she found what she was looking for.
Okay, got it, Star Swirl’s time traveling spell. Not here to cast it, just to examine it. Like teleporting, casting it directly requires a destination both in time and space, and without confirming one or the other you could end up anywhere. Numerous safety features, as expected. Can’t have anypony traveling back in time and finding themselves in a wall or underwater, can we? These must have been groundbreaking back when he wrote them!
It’s such a shame there isn’t more of Star Swirl’s work around, really. For such a great and important unicorn, there’s so little of his work out there. Yes, most of it’s going to be antiquated by now, but it’s the principle of the thing. This is where this started. It’s almost as if…
No, don’t get distracted, Twilight. Focus. Look at the spell.
Gah, my Old Equestrian isn’t as good as I thought it was. While the matrix is clearly marked out, I can’t read any of the annotations, especially not in that horn writing. The only ponies who might be able to read it are—
Nope, not going there. I don’t want to involve the Princesses at this level.
There are some more diagrams, but without the annotations, they just don’t make sense. …This was entirely pointless. I came here looking for some sort of answer, any sort of answer, but… Given the matrix’s links with Prophetia, I think maybe Star Swirl wrote that one too. But where then did…
Stalleonardo copied the spell from watching me cast it, and then I only cast it from his notes…
My head hurts.
Oh well. I won’t make this a wasted trip, anyway.
Disappointed, but hopeful, Twilight put the scroll gingerly back on the shelf and left the Star Swirl wing. She should have expected as much, really. She’d been able to read enough to describe the spell’s basics when casting it the first time, but much more beyond that was impossible without extensive translation time and an Old Equestrian dictionary.
Her second destination was much less restricted. Where the Star Swirl wing was the section of the Archives concerned with old magical spells, she was headed to the section concerning art. There really was no other name to pick, she mused, as she entered the Stalleonardo da Colton wing. No other artist had been so prolific and so well known. Only she and the others who’d joined her in 611 knew the true story behind that now.
She’d never been in the Stalleonardo wing before. She was hoping it would be easy to navigate.
It wasn’t.
This must be what it’s like to be an artist. I’ve seen cleaner pigsties.
There must be some sort of order somewhere! Where’s the logbook? Come on, there has to be a logbook somewhere. How else is anypony supposed to find anything?! Gah! This place really needs organizing!
Urge to tidy… rising…
EXTRA BIG BOOKMARK: COME BACK HERE WITH A CHECKLIST AND CLEAN THIS UP!
Ten minutes later, she found the logbook, by which point it was pointless, as it was under a big binder marked ‘Stalleonardo’. Quietly fuming, she lifted the binder down and opened it up. Ah, this was what she was looking for. Written histories on the stallion himself. She knew a lot about him, of course, but it wouldn’t hurt to supplement her knowledge with the facts that weren’t available to the public.
Stalleonardo da Colton, real name unknown. (Sweeping Stroke, previous occupation clerk of the Colton council.) Born, unknown exact date, September CE 593. Adopted the name Stalleonardo in 611, and attributed the inspiration for that to a dream. (Oops.) Added surname suffix in 614 when Colton burned down. Discovered CE 617. Became Princess Celestia’s personal student CE 618. Completed pioneering anatomy studies with his Vit’hoovian Stallion in CE 628. Completed most famous painting, “The First and Last” in CE 637. (What? Most famous? Twilight had never heard of such a painting.) Disappeared for five years from CE 651 to 656.
Lost during the Great Fire of Manehattan in CE 656.
Right, that was the basic timeline. Ignoring for the moment that his ‘most famous’ work was one she’d never heard of, that was 45 years worth of painting and using Prophetia, during which he was… how had the museum put it? Going crazy. Paraphrasing for sure but that had been the gist of it.
The next page had a list of his works and their current locations. A vast number of them were listed as being in ‘Private Collections’, but just as many were attributed to museums. Hoofington Museum was listed for a few of them, the Upper Canterlot Museum of Art, Prance’s Hoouvre Museum, really, the most well known museums. There was the entry for the Mona Luna, Royal Portrait Gallery, Canterlot Castle. There didn’t seem to be any mention of the rainboom painting.
Out of sheer curiosity, she looked up the entry for “The First and Last”.
The First and Last, CE 637. Private Collection.
That seemed a little weird. His ‘most famous painting’, sitting in a private collection somewhere? Something was off. But that wasn’t her priority right now. She needed something… else.
She turned the next page, and bingo, list of written works. There weren’t many, but there were enough. Surely there should be a biography of some kind, or something…
Inside, she was still conflicted over what her next course of action should be. The more rational part of her mind was content to wait and see what happened next, while her conscience was screaming for her to go back and try and fix things, paradoxes be darned. Looking up all this information about the stallion… she didn’t know which option she was trying to be convinced of.
No, wait, hold on, what was that entry there? Her eyes refocused, and she had to stop herself from gasping. Right there on the page was…
An explanation on the virtues of painting stars at dusk. It was an innocuous title. Nopony else could look at it and see anything wrong with it. But da Colton had never painted pictures focusing on the night sky. Then you considered that stars at dusk could, in more flowery terms, be rephrased as the twilight sparkle…
She scanned across the line. An explanation on the virtues of painting stars at dusk, CE 632. Upper Canterlot Museum of Art.
Twilight had teleported out of the Archives and was galloping for the castle gates before anypony could blink.
The Upper Canterlot Museum of Art sat proudly on the north side of Six Ways Yard, in one of the older parts of the city. Its facade wasn’t quite as impressive as that of the Hoofington Museum, which had more space and was a joint effort, but the purely unicorn construction still towered over the surrounding buildings. It had been a city hall at some point in its history, before most civic events had been moved to the castle. It had been one of Twilight’s most frequently visited parts of the city.
It was also closed.
It was 3AM. What did she expect? Augh. She’d just run across the city and worn herself out for nothing. There weren’t even any backup plans. Her focus had been so set upon that book that…
With nothing else in her head, she sat down on the wet cobbles and stared at the museum.
Lack of sleep wasn’t the only thing that drove her loopy, she was discovering. Really, she should know that already, after the Want-It-Need-It accident last year. Not being able to do what she was best at was making her lose it.
With a start, she remembered that Stalleonardo had lost it too. He’d been so focused on the prophecies that… she guessed that he’d lost sight of the definition between present and future. Clerks were meant to write in the moment. He’d been unable to fulfill his special talent. Twilight remembered occasions during the past year that similar things had happened to her friends. All those things had been sorted pretty quickly, though. Nopony had helped Stalleonardo for 45 years.
Well, apart from Princess Celestia. But Twilight knew from her own experiences that it was possible to become jaded in some things the Princess said if it went against the listener’s ideals. She’d been utterly pessimistic in the instruction to make some friends, and, well, here she was. Bearer of the Element of Magic.
If Stalleonardo had had somepony to talk to like she’d had…
“Twilight Sparkle!”
Twilight almost jumped out of her coat with a surprised neigh. Approaching at speed flying just above the cobblestones was…
“Ditzy Do-oof!”
The pegasus and unicorn tumbled head over hooves across the slick cobbles before coming to rest in a puddle.
Of all the ponies she could have met in Canterlot, even at 3AM, she had not expected the mailpony from Ponyville. Even as she was picking herself up and trying to wring some of the rain out she was asking the obvious question. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you!” Ditzy was out of breath, but jubilant on having discovered her quarry. “You’re a really hard pony to find, you know?” She climbed up, and shook to dry herself. “Somepony in Ponyville said you went to Canterlot Hospital, and when I got to Canterlot Hospital Spike said you went to the castle, and when I got to the castle somepony there told me you went to this archive place, and when I went there they wouldn’t let me in but said you’d come here…” the pegasus paused for breath. “You’ve got a letter!”
“A letter?” Twilight echoed. “At 3 in the morning? In Canterlot?!”
Ditzy responded by pulling said letter out of her saddlebag. The moment she did so wet spots started appearing on it, but Twilight caught a glimpse of something stamped on the envelope. URGENT.
“I always deliver urgent letters whenever I get them!” the mailmare explained. “I figure it could be something really important!”
It would have to be, for getting up to 3:15AM. “Don’t you have to be back in Ponyville for—”
“Flutter’s covering for me.” Ditzy shook her head as her left eye approached an unmanageable angle. “Besides, I need to go to the mail office here and take something back to them that had a bad address.”
“Well, first off—” Twilight looked up. “Let’s get somewhere dry!”
With none of the shops around the yard open, the easiest dry place to get to was just in front of the museum doors. While it wasn’t dry dry, it was sheltered from the rain, which was enough to unfold the letter and read it under the light of an illumination spell.
Hey Twilight!
14b Twinkle Street. See you there! ;)
What?
Reeds Melody
WHAT.
“What!?”
“What?” asked Ditzy, who was completely oblivious to the night’s events so far.
No. How was this possible? Reeds was asleep in the hospital. And… no, she would have had to have sent it before tonight. They hadn’t even met until yesterday evening! What was going on?! Were these more time travel shenanigans?!
There was only one thing for it.
Twilight took the stairs down from the museum entrance two at a time, nearly skidded over on the cobbles, and set off at a gallop in the direction of Shetland Yard. Twinkle Street was just beyond it. She needed answers and she was going to get them.
As she ran, she became dimly aware of Ditzy flying behind her, trying to keep up. Fair enough, the post office probably wouldn’t be open at this time either. She’d just have to try and keep any discussions relevant to the time travel to the bare minimum.
By the time they reached Shetland Yard, and the old gate, the rain had stopped, though the cobblestones were still slick underhoof. Running on them felt at times like she was running on marbles. Around the gate. Past the Watch building. Twinkle Street ahead. On the right. 8, 10, 12… 14 Twinkle Street was the darkened storefront of a curio shop. Next to it was the door to the apartments above the store. 14a, 14b.
Twilight rapped on the door. It opened moments later.
“Hey, Twilight!” Reeds Melody said, cradling the biggest cup of coffee she’d ever seen in her life, and which absolutely put the one she'd seen Raven carrying earlier to shame. “Come on in!”
“Welcome to Chez Melody. Sorry about the mess. It’s not usually like this, I’ve been in the hospital a while. Well, no, it is.”
Twilight followed Reeds up the stairs and into the second apartment in a sort of bewildered stupor. A little over three hours ago this pony had been out like a light and now…
It certainly was a messy apartment. There were a couple of dresses draped over chairs, a dirty labcoat, in the kitchen area the dishes weren’t quite at a state that might be described as disgusting… Rarity would hate this place. A look here without seeing the outside wouldn’t give off any indication that it was in Canterlot at all.
“Have a seat, have a seat. Um, your friend—”
“Ditzy Doo.”
“Reeds Melody.” The two pegasi shook hooves. “You have a seat too. Pull up a chair.”
Ditzy shrugged. “Eh, I’ll stand.”
“Stand on a chair then.” Reeds tossed the labcoat onto the bed, which was probably the only neatly made thing in the entire room, then hopped onto the stool it had been covering. “Bet you’re wondering what all this is about, huh?”
YES. Twilight was bursting with questions. How could you have sent me a letter before you met me? How did you wake up so quickly? Why aren’t you still at the hospital?
The one she ran with first was “Where’s Spike?”
Reeds’ gaze went towards the kitchen. Twilight followed it, and… oh, Spike. He’d been hidden by the partition when she’d entered, but now he was plainly visible, lying on the kitchen floor, with an empty donut box next to his outstretched claw, snoring away. He was only a baby dragon, Twilight had to keep reminding herself of that. Ten pony years was nothing on the lifespan of a dragon.
“I bribed him with donuts,” Reeds explained, as if it wasn’t obvious. “He said as long as you came here he’d take them but he wouldn’t like it.”
…Yep. He definitely didn’t like those. By the looks of things he was going to be the only one getting a decent night’s sleep tonight.
Alright. It was question time. Twilight turned her gaze back to the offending pegasus, and narrowed her eyes. “Reeds.”
“Twilight.”
The dam ruptured. Questions poured out of Twilight, so much that she was sure that some of what she was saying was the product of a sleep-deprived mind. She realized she didn’t even care if Ditzy heard. Opposite, Reeds leaned back under the effect of the verbal onslaught.
Their host waved her forelegs about. “Whoa whoa whoa slow down, Twilight. I don’t know everything, what would be the point of that? Just pick a few questions and ask them or something!”
Thought journal, bookmarked entry; April 20 CE 1001, 3:48AM
More information to add to the prophecies, more data for the map. In the grand scheme of things it’s pitifully small, especially when compared to everything I’ve encountered so far, but I have to remember that, realistically speaking, Reeds Melody is only a small piece of a huge puzzle.
On the subject of sleep: “When you’re a teacher, even an assistant one, you get used to working on as little sleep as possible.” I guess I can understand this. It would certainly explain how she continued functioning with several days awake without a noticeable detriment to her cognitive functions.
On the subject of the hospital: “They had me do a few tests but couldn’t see anything wrong with me and let me out.” Aside from the fact that it was, to them, the first time she’d slept for days? Surely she should have stayed an outpatient for a while longer. “But if they didn’t let me out I couldn’t have met you here.” That’s not an answer!
On the subject of the letter: “The Iris told me to.” Of course it did. And is listening to a magical charm with unlimited potential common sense now? So the Iris told her to send a letter, great. Who told the Iris to tell her to send her a letter? “How in Equestria am I supposed to know that?” Okay, fine. You win this round.
On the subject of the Iris: “I can’t tell you.”
“What do you mean, can’t tell me?!”
Reeds shrugged. “I mean what I mean. I promised that I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Promised who?!”
“Also can’t tell you.” The pegasus slurped noisily from her coffee. “C’mon, Twilight, use your brain! If I told you everything, it’d ruin the surprise!”
“She’s got a point,” said Ditzy, turning to look at Twilight. “‘f you know everything, what’s the fun in that?”
But she didn’t want to be surprised! She wanted the truth! In spite of herself, Twilight thumped the table next to her. “It’s not fun! Every time I want some answers, I just get more questions, and it’s infuriating! It’s… it’s… it’s unfair!”
Everything came bubbling up again, and she found herself blubbing while Ditzy patted her on the back awkwardly. Unfair. The events from the casting of Prophetia onwards had just been taking, taking and taking and hardly giving anything back. She was close to the breaking point. If much more was taken out of her, by the time the whole thing finished there wouldn’t be anything left.
Just like Sweeping Stroke. Prophetia had consumed him, and now it was consuming her. Only he’d had it 45 years. She’d not even had it for two weeks yet.
There had to be a way to solve this once and for all. A tipping point where everything would start coming up Twilight, where she would stop finding the puzzle pieces and start putting them together.
She blinked away the tears. Then she blinked again.
“Habwuh?”
Her first thought was where did everypony go? The second was you’ve cried yourself to sleep, Twilight, good job. A++. Take a medal. Entry into the dream world had been instantaneous. You never really notice when you enter a dream.
Around her, she could still… ‘feel’, for want of a better word, Reeds and Ditzy talking in the real world. Her dream world was far less chaotic than what she remembered of the one in the past, and this time, gone was the open field and the bleeding dream courtesy of one assistant weather studies teacher. Instead, there was… the Meditation Chamber as it had been in 990. Colorful and relaxing.
Celestia knew she needed it.
Was this her brain telling her she needed to relax? Probably. Meditate. Think things over. Don’t get too stressed.
A voice broke her from her reverie. “Why?”
“What?”
The voice had come from the windows… Twilight turned around, and found that Applejack’s image on the stained glass window had been replaced with a visage of Sweeping Stroke. Da Colton, she had to remind herself. Her own image of the artist was so far removed from the stallion he’d used to be that it was difficult to remember they were the same pony.
“Why?” the image on the stained glass repeated, staring at her. “Why did you do this to me?”
Oh no. The lavender unicorn knew exactly what was going on, but that wasn’t going to make it any less stressful. “I didn’t do it on purpose!”
“You caused all of it. Everything was your fault.”
“It wasn’t!”
“But you don’t believe that, do you?” His voice was scathing. “If you had done something, anything, differently, none of this would have ever happened.”
It was an honest mistake. Twilight tried to say it, but knew that she couldn’t, and he was right. If at any point along this journey she had made a different choice, if she’d kept a better eye on the workbook and it had never been stolen, if she had forced the door on the Meditation Chamber instead of waiting it out, if they had never accidentally exchanged Spike for Sweeping Stroke’s books…
No. She swallowed. She had to stand up to this. “No it wouldn’t.”
“And how do you know?”
“I…” Twilight didn’t know how she knew, but she just… knew. Some part of her brain was telling her that all of the paradoxes she’d been afraid of creating, that would have averted this poor stallion’s destiny, could never be made and would never be made. Somewhere, she’d seen proof that this was the case, she was sure of it.
“It’s the truth. And Sweeping Stroke would know that.” The window fractured. “He’d understand my predicament, because… because he casted Prophetia.” The cracks widened. “He saw the future, multiple times. He’d try to avert catastrophe, and he’d fail, and he’d understand! The choices we make still take us to our destiny, even if they seem pre-determined!”
Beneath the cracks, the moving stained glass image of Sweeping Stroke smiled. “Good.” Then the window shattered.
When the Upper Canterlot Museum of Art opened its doors at 8AM, Twilight was the first one to enter, followed closely by Reeds Melody, who’d insisted on tagging along. Ditzy had headed off to complete her business at the Post Office, and Spike… well, Spike had still been flat out, so Twilight had flagged down a passing guard and asked him to take the baby dragon up to the castle. He’d at least know most ponies there, and she was sure that he didn’t want to spend all morning being dragged around a museum.
Inside, the atmosphere was decidedly more arty than the entrance hall of the museum at Hoofington had been, and the smell of paint was strong to the point of being able to bench press Big McIntosh. Art of all mediums and subjects lined the walls. But, technically speaking, it wasn’t the art that they were there to see.
Tucked away in one corner of the museum was the art reference library, where books of the masters were kept in glass cases. She had been in luck, though; the curator had recognized the student of Princess Celestia and had granted her immediate access to anything she wanted.
“It gives you perks,” Reeds had commented.
A, B, C, D… da Colton, S., An explanation on the virtues of painting stars at dusk. Twilight unlocked the case, and very carefully lifted the book down to an examination table, with Reeds hovering over her shoulder. The pegasus clearly didn’t see the appeal in all these old books, and pulled faces at the smell of old paper, but at least respected the care that needed to be given to their treatment.
It could have been nothing. She was clutching at straws. But Twilight needed to investigate the possibility.
An explanation on the virtues of painting stars at dusk turns out to be about painting stars at dusk.
I’m jumping at shadows here. After nearly two weeks of things looping back to the prophecies, I’m now looking for those loops and not finding them. This is what my life has become. This is so frustrating I have no words.
It’s still strange that da Colton would choose to write a book about painting at night - and from what little art I remember, it all seems accurate - when painting the stars at night is something he’s never done, at least, not to my knowledge. He’s certainly not reknowned for his night-time paintings. Sure, prophetic visions could occur at night, but nopony has ever said “I’m going to look up Stalleonardo’s advice on painting in the dark.”
Fascinating as it is to learn the techniques he would have used to illuminate the canvas without ruining the ambience of the subject he was painting, it’s completely irrelevant to everything.
“You’re not even reading it, are you?”
Reeds’ voice shook her from her thought-journal, and she looked down at the book. Admittedly, while she’d been concentrating on the journal, she’d been flicking through the pages without paying attention to what was written on it. But everything was still just techniques. An art book without any hints of prophecy whatsoever.
Just about the only thing that wasn’t related, then.
Next to her, Reeds rolled her eyes. “Come on, Twilight. Am I going to have to point it out to you?”
“Point what out?”
The pegasus sighed. “I thought you unicorns were supposed to be good at this stuff. Go back to that page with the star map.”
Twilight turned a few pages back to where da Colton had sketched the brightest points in the night sky. “This one?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.” Reeds leaned in close, and Twilight had to push her back slightly to prevent her from exhaling directly onto the pages. “Don’t you see it? Come on, tell me you can see it.”
“See what?” The unicorn scrutinized the page. She saw a star map, with some of the stars labeled. She saw an accurate representation of the stars in the northern sky. She saw Middle Equestrian comments on how to align the map. “I don’t see anything unusual. Are you sure there’s something there?”
“Pegasus eyes. Look at that one there.” Her companion reached out a hoof to point, then quickly remembered herself, retracted it, and used a wing instead. “Real close. Get a magnifying glass or something.”
Twilight squinted. There seemed to be nothing unusual about the positioning of the brightest star in Draco’s tail, apart from… she was pretty sure that there was only meant to be one star there, and not six. Is that what she was on about?
“Oh for crying out loud!” Reeds almost shouted. “It’s your cutie mark!”
It was?! She squinted in closer, and flushed red. One six-pointed star surrounded by five smaller six-pointed stars. Without the color she just hadn’t recognized it, but there it was clear as day… or night, as the case may be. Twilight’s cutie mark, hidden as a star on a map in a book written… 20 years after their encounter.
He remembered her.
Something crazy was beginning to happen in Twilight’s head. Slowly, she retrieved the Iris from the bag she’d borrowed from the castle, and looked at it. Since they’d left 611, it had dropped its magic-hiding aura and had returned to one of pleasant rejuvenation, still containing immense power though significantly drained from before following two four hundred year time jumps and having to shield them from an alicorn for half an hour.
Could she use it, intentionally?
“Uh oh,” commented her companion. “I’ve seen that face on students before, and it means they’re gonna do something silly.”
“I’m wondering…” Twilight said slowly. It was a crazy stupid idea, and probably wouldn’t work, but that automatically meant it was worth a shot. “…is it possible to trick out time?”
“I’ve got no idea what you’re on about and I think you need some air,” Reeds said, trying to pull her away from the book. C’mon, all this must or whatever you call it is going to your head.”
Reluctantly, Twilight slotted the book back onto the shelf and locked the cabinet again. Yes, she probably did need some air, but that notion just wasn’t going away. In the five years before the Great Fire of Manehattan, Stalleonardo hadn’t been seen in public. A few ponies claimed to receive letters from him, sure, but nopony had actually seen him.
Therefore, if she time-traveled to 651 and brought him back to 1001… nopony would notice the difference.
They reconvened outside Donut Joe’s, where they bumped into Ditzy again. Knowing how often Twilight had come into here to find somepony she recognized, it shouldn’t have been too much of a surprise.
“I thought you said you didn’t like donuts?” Twilight commented around her own.
Ditzy gestured across the street, and spoke around her own mouthful of muffin. “Mths fprinkls tbls r wet.” Where she was pointing, Mrs. Sprinkle’s Bakery indeed had wet tables outside. Donut Joe’s had the space to take the tables inside, which was probably why all of Mrs. Sprinkle’s customers were coming over and using them. Neither baker seemed to mind, and even as they’d been sitting there they’d been outside bantering with each other.
Really, she should have gone up to the castle first and found Spike. He’d never forgive her for going to Donut Joe’s without him. But it was still morning, and knowing him, he’d still be flat out, not to mention he’d had some already that morning and having too much baked goods without interspersing a few gems into his diet made him very sick indeed.
It was an atmosphere which really should have made her forget about everything else. But the idea wouldn’t go away.
She kept absent-mindedly spinning the Iris under the table. All the times she’d time traveled with it so far, she’d simply been holding it at the wrong time. How would she go about triggering that intentionally? All she had to do was go back to 651 and convince Sweeping Stroke to come back with her. As for the appearance at the Great Fire, she’d read into that in more detail, and the reports had all been very sketchy about it. All of the ponies who’d claimed to have seen him were all unsure of the events, the stress of the fire taking its toll, and she thought it was reasonable that they had simply seen a stallion that looked like Stalleonardo who had simply faded into the crowd.
An uncomfortable silence settled over the table. Twilight looked up, and became painfully aware that the two pegasi seemed to be having a staring contest.
“Uh…”
Twilight swallowed her mouthful and tried to subtly direct Reeds away from the topic. Don’t talk about her eyes, don’t talk about her eyes, don’t talk about—
“What’s wrong with your eyes?”
The unicorn winced.
Gently, Ditzy set her half-eaten muffin down on the table, and swallowed her own mouthful. Her voice was level and calm, the disappearance of her bubbly personality an immediate indication that she’d entered Mothering Mode. “I have a condition.”
“Can you actually see out of that eye?”
“Yes.”
Drop the topic, Reeds. Don’t— “So you don’t have any depth perception problems or anything?”
“I do.”
Please, for the love of Celestia, Reeds, shut up— “Doesn’t that make it hard to fly?”
“Sometimes.”
“OKAY,” Twilight said forcefully, in a desperate attempt to change the subject. “That sure was a good donut! How was your muffin, Ditzy?”
There was a beat, and for a moment Twilight was sure that the mailmare would snipe a final shot at the assistant, but then Ditzy’s cheerful persona returned. “Oh, sure! You know I love my muffins! (Except when they’re bad muffins,)” she whispered conspiratorially. “(Bad muffins are super awful and make you sick.)”
“Eh, I don’t like muffins as much,” Reeds commented, picking up her donut. “Donuts beat muffins forever.”
Oh no…
“What have muffins ever done to you?”
“They don’t really agree with me.”
How had her life come to this, sitting in the middle of a donut vs muffin argument?
“I’ve got more.” Ditzy lifted up a box of muffins and set it on the table. “Lots more. You sure you don’t want one?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Reeds took a bite of her donut. “Mm, that’s good stuff.”
Twilight put her face in her hooves.
“Muffins are much better than donuts, and that’s easy for me, since I don’t like donuts.”
An expression of abject horror crossed Reeds’ face. “You don’t like donuts?”
“Nope! And neither does my daughter.”
“You have a daughter?”
“Yep, her name is Dinky and she is the best daughter in Equestria.”
“And she doesn’t like donuts either?”
More and more Twilight was wishing she could escape from the argument without being rude. Maybe if she just sort of slithered off her chair and under the table neither of them would notice… Nah, they’d definitely notice. Needing to use the little fillies’ room? A juvenile excuse. A foal could come up with better. What would Rarity say? Something about powdering her nose? But Twilight didn’t use any sort of makeup—
In her magical grip, the Iris pulsed.
Argument forgotten, Twilight brought it out from under the table and looked down at it. Something about it had changed. It still had the passive rejuvenation field, but now, it was… waiting. Expectant. It wanted her to do something.
If she was to try now to get Stalleonardo from the past before the fire of 656…
The instant the thought crossed her mind, the Iris pulsed again, stronger, and began glowing brighter. Both of the pegasi at the table shut up immediately and snapped their attention to the unicorn between them.
“Twilight, what’s that?” Ditzy asked.
Reeds already knew what it was. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re gonna—”
Take me there, Iris. Take me to Stalleonardo da Colton.
She could almost hear the reply. “As you wish.”