If the air in the room were any more oppressive, the table would have broken into pieces and crumbled to the floor. Between the four who sat around said table, nothing was said. Nobody knew what to say or what to do. How could they combat an enemy that they couldn't see or touch? It was a power they could only begin to understand, and do nothing about, allowing destruction to spiral out of control. What could one even begin to do in this situation?
"That's what we've been here for!" Celestia said, slamming her forehooves on the table. She grit her teeth. "I don't know what to do, so that's why you're all here! I..." Her voice faded as she saw the worried gaze of her sister. "Please, any of you, figure something out. Anything would be helpful at this point."
Starswirl stroked his beard, Luna stared intently at the ground, and Discord tapped his talons on the table. Celestia patiently awaited an answer of any kind for a few seconds before sighing and letting her head drop.
“Well, it’s not like there are many options on the table,” Starswirl stated. “Celestia, I’m not sure there’s anything we can do to stop it. As frustrating as that is, we may need to face the truth and hope it stops on its own before too long.”
“With all due respect,” Celestia said, “I refuse to accept that answer. I won’t simply stand by while my citizens suffer, and my land implodes upon itself! As far as I’m concerned, that’s not an option.”
“But Princess,” Starswirl said, “forgive me if I sound callous, but there may not be a way.”
“How do we know for sure if we haven’t even tried!” Celestia shouted much louder than she intended to. “I apologize. I’m just rather flustered at the moment. This isn’t exactly something I’m used to. This type of villain, I mean.”
Luna leaned over to her and gently nuzzled her sister’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, sister, everything will be alright, I swear this to you. You’ve never failed Equestria and her citizens before, and I do not believe you will start now.”
Celestia raised her hoof and gently placed it on Luna’s. “Thank you, Luna. I know that this isn’t the time for all this negativity and fear-dwelling.”
“Well,” Discord spoke up, shrugging his shoulders. “Might I suggest that we start at the beginning? It’s as good of a place as any, or so I’ve heard.”
Celestia released her hoof from Luna’s and cracked the smallest of smiles. “Very well, go on.”
“Instead of focusing so much on what we don’t know,” Discord continued. “Perhaps we should think about what we do know and go from there? All this Negative Nancy talk isn’t good for my emotional wellbeing.”
“I can agree with that, surprisingly,” Starswirl stated. “What do we know?”
“Well, I’m glad you asked!” Discord grabbed a pen and paper from the air and began jotting down notes. “We can’t control it, we can’t find out who started it, we can’t keep it from getting worse, and at this rate Celestia will never have a warm cup of tea again, most likely.” Discord darted his eyes over the scowling faces around him. “So, long story short, we’re doomed!” He tossed the pen and paper onto the table, revealing a very poorly drawn caricature of Celestia eating cake.
“You, sir,” Celestia spoke up, “are not very pleasant sometimes. Do you realize this?”
“Oh, I know,” Discord replied with a smirk. “I tell it like it is, even if it ruffles every last feather on your lovely wings.”
“So, you truly believe that there’s nothing we can do?” Luna asked, her eyes tilting toward the floor. “We simply have to tell the citizens to accept their fate?”
“Unfortunately.” Starswirl released a deep sigh. “I don’t believe there’s much else to do. Whoever set this up did it without leaving any holes to poke through.”
“Not quite.” Discord once again butted in. “There may still be a way, if you all would let me finish for once.”
“You know something?” Celestia shouted. “For Equestria’s sake, tell us!”
“Well,” he began, “it’s not so much that I know that it will work, but my idea will give us a chance at not getting smothered into the depths of time and chaos.” Discord turned to Starswirl. “So, old pal, you said you were able to pin the time that the spell was cast, were you not?”
“Yes,” Starswirl replied. “One thousand and seventeen years. Why? Do you have some means of reversing the spell’s effects?”
“Hehe, no.” Discord shook his head. “If that were the case, we’d all be celebrating victory as we speak instead of discussing the finer points of magical destruction.”
“Then what is your plan?” Celestia said, her headache getting worse with each passing sentence being uttered from Discord’s mouth.
Discord looked over all three ponies. “Well, it’s quite simple. If we can’t stop this magic from destroying everything, why not keep it from ever happening in the first place?”
Luna cocked her head to the side. “Stop it from happening? What do you mean, exactly?”
“Exactly what I said, my dear princess,” Discord said with a smile. “We’ve come to accept that we can’t stop the spell now that it’s been put in place. So, by common sense alone, the only thing we can do is keep it from being cast in the first place! I didn’t think I’d have to spell that one out for you.”
Celestia rubbed her temples. “Wait, wait, wait… You’re suggesting we stop something that happened over a thousand years ago? Even with the time magic we have, there’s no way that—”
“He may be on to something,” Starswirl cut in.
“What are you getting at?” Celestia asked.
“Well,” Starswirl said, “it’s completely possible to use magic to send ponies back in time, correct? It’s been done before, even by ponies such as Twilight and that snarky one she lives with.”
“Mhm,” Discord nodded in agreement. “And since we know the rough time the spell was cast… anyone?”
“We could send somepony back to that time to stop whoever cast it!” Luna called out. “That’s a wonderful idea, Discord!”
The draconequus brushed some dust off his shoulder. “I try.”
“But,” Starswirl rose a hoof. “We are forgetting one major issue here. Even with the magic I’ve developed and learned over the years, the longest amount of time I could send somepony back with accuracy would be fifty, maybe one-hundred years. Anything beyond that wouldn’t be possible.”
“For a pony, maybe,” Discord replied with a scoff. “You underestimate my power. I can easily send anypony back that far in time; to the day, I might add!”
Celestia’s eyes popped open. “That’s it, then. That’s our plan! Discord, please, send me! Immediately! We haven’t any time to lose!”
“Hold your hooves there cowgirl,” Discord replied, raising his paw. “You’re forgetting one weensy, teensy detail.”
“What’s that?” Celestia replied.
“Well, as Starswirl pointed out, sending a pony back in time is quite the dangerous task.” He snapped his claw, and a chalkboard appeared on which he began scribbling pictures and diagrams. “It’s not just trying to get a pony from Point A to Point B that can be difficult. Merely the magic force needed to do so is quite powerful. Long story short, if I were to send a pony that far back, odds are they’d arrive on the other side as a pile of mush… and a pile of mush would not do much to stop anypony, now would they?”
“And we’re back to square one, I suppose,” Celestia said with a huff.
“Well, Discord,” Starswirl stated, “couldn’t you simply go back and stop this from happening?”
Discord shrugged. “I could, but then who would be here to help you all with damage control? I’m too valuable to lose.”
“Pfft, excuses,” Starswirl said, waving a hoof.
“No, he’s right,” Celestia replied with a groan.
“He is?”
“I am?” Discord scratched his head. “I was just trying to defer the option to somepony else. I suppose it’s the small victories, huh?”
“Yes, you are right.” Celestia cleared her throat. “I can’t imagine the odds of success on this mission will be very high, and it’s not worth the risk. We need you here to help us out in the event the mission doesn’t succeed.”
“I agree,” Luna replied. “But then, who can we choose to go back? If we can’t use a pony and we can’t use Discord, who else does that leave us with?”
“Nopony, it would seem,” Starswirl said with a sigh. “We need somepony with a high magical resistance that we can overall afford to lose should the worst come to pass.”
All four of them spent a moment rubbing their chins in thought. Their options were severely limited at this point, and there was no guarantee this mission would succeed regardless. The odds of success weren’t exactly in their favor, but regardless, they had to try. And they’d most likely have only one chance. Who could they send?
Celestia broke the silence with a loud thud as her hoof hit the table.
“I think I know somepony, err, somedragon, I should say.”
“Spike, get up!”
“Huh… what? Oof!” The dragon’s eyes were forced shut by the sheer force of a pillow slamming into his face. “Ergh, this is gonna be my whole morning isn’t it.”
Spike lazily sat up in his bed, his eyes adjusting to the light in his room. As the blurriness slowly faded away, he was able to make out the figure of a smirking Starlight Glimmer standing by his bed.
“Eh, what do you want, Starlight? I’ll have you know I was in the middle of an awesome dream involving a mountain of gems and a pretty mare that put Fleur de Lis to shame.” He folded his arms and stretched out his wings a bit.
“Oh, boo-hoo,” she replied. “You’ve had long enough with your dream world. You need to wake up and help me with all of these chores before Twilight gets back from her visit with Mayor Mare. We’ve already put off doing the dishes for three days, and I don’t want to face her wrath if we blow it off again.”
“Mmph,” Spike mumbled. “Can’t it wait until later? I wanted to sleep in, today.”
Starlight tapped her hoof on the ground and levitated a clock in front of his face. “Spike, look at this clock and tell me what time it says.”
The dragon turned his head away. “No way. You can’t sleep-shame me. We live in a modern society.”
“Please, do this for me. I want you to know what weekend laziness is like in its most pure state.”
“Fine.” The dragon rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Oh, this is what your worked up about? It’s only three-thirty in the afternoon.”
Starlight deadpanned. “I’ll give you five minutes to get downstairs and help out. If not…” Starlight snatched one of Spike’s comic books off a nearby shelf. “…the comic book gets it.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“I would.” She smirked at him and began to trot out the door. “Remember, Spike, five minutes! That’s three-hundred seconds!”
Spike groaned and flopped back into bed. Spike loved that mare like the sibling he never had, but boy did she have his number, sometimes. He slowly crawled out of his bed and unfurled his wings, stretching them out and yawning the mightiest of yawns. He spent a moment twisting his slender body around, loosening his tight muscles and joints, a symphony of cracks and pops accompanying the action.
Right as he was about to release a second yawn, he felt his stomach begin to rumble before releasing a powerful burp. As per usual, a letter popped through the fire and flames that jutted out of Spike's mouth. The rolled up letter had plopped gently on the ground...
“Ugh, harassment from Starlight and a letter from Celestia, already?” He picked up the letter and turned his eyes to the ceiling. “Just another day in the life of Spike the Dragon.”