The next morning, right after breakfast, a tired yet triumphant Twilight asked both of them to come down to one of the palace's private audience chambers with her.

"I was able to resolve the last few issues early this morning, and even run a few quick tests of the subcomponents, doing low-power, short-range viewing. And everything works as it should. We have a working time-lens spell!"

"Time-lens?" Trixie asked, puzzled. "So you don't actually travel? You just look at stuff?"

"Well, you do travel," Twilight explained, "though only to points in the past on the same timeline. And you can walk around and observe events. Except that as we planned, you're prevented from interacting with anything in a way that would significantly alter the timeline you came from. It's look but don't touch, so it's safe. Hence, time-lens!"

"And it actually works?" Starlight said, nervously. "We can really extend it back that far? All the way back to the pre-classical era?"

Twilight trotted ahead of them into the empty audience room, with the final, simplified version of the spell on a large scroll floating beside her in her magic. After shutting and locking the door so they wouldn't be interrupted, she unrolled the spell. With Starlight's help, the two of them powered it up while Trixie sat looking on. The show-pony seemed to have picked up some of Starlight's nervousness. She uneasily fidgeted with her magician's robe and the brim of her pointy hat, while trying all the while to look knowingly unconcerned.

The spell finally fired up. A hemisphere of glowing energy formed around them, shimmering and rippling like the surface of a lake. Beyond the rippling surface a stretch of woods gradually appeared. And all around them the trees were... changing. Leaves appeared, and disappeared. Branches appeared, then vanished. Snow fell, then was gone. Butterflies and birds flitted past, blinking on and off as the ripples of instability passed across them. Gradually, the instability settled down, becoming a smooth sheen of glowing power.

"There!" Twilight sighed in relief. "The spell should be locked onto a point near the edge of the Everfree Forest, close to the Castle of the Two Sisters, at roughly the right time in the pre-classical era."

"Hmph! Assuming it's actually working," Trixie sneered, even as she gazed around herself in worried astonishment.

"How can we be sure about the time?" Starlight asked. Despite her nervousness she too was impressed. Her amended version of the time-travel spell had merely produced an unstable maelstrom of energy that sucked ponies through and spat them out the other side. This went way beyond that. "You said the history books didn't go into detail about when things happened."

"Not about Daybreaker, no. But we do know from the Two Sisters' Journal it happened at some point after the Princesses were summoned to the Crystal Empire, and before they got their marks by raising the Sun and the Moon, and those events are well-documented at least. So this is a good point to start looking."

"And how do we do that?" Trixie asked. "We can't see anything from here, apart from a lot of trees!"

"We go for a walk," Twilight said. And she unhesitatingly trotted straight out through the shimmering glow.

Reluctantly Starlight and Trixie followed her. They found themselves standing in the forest they had seen from inside the dome. Looking at themselves, they saw they were insubstantial, almost see-through. Like ghosts, Starlight thought, uncomfortably. Haunting the past, because of an unsatisfied need. She shivered at the thought.

"That effect's part of the lensing aspect of the spell," Twilight explained. "No one can see or hear us, or sense magic we use on ourselves. And apart from minimal physical interaction, like being able to see and walk on things, we can't affect anything significant. So let's go! The Castle's this way."

In short order they emerged from the forest onto the banks of the river Aurum, on a beautiful sunlit day. And beyond, standing tall and proud atop the green hill on the far side, was the Castle of the Two Sisters. It looked brand new, its arched buttresses and multiple spires reaching up into the clear blue sky.

"Wow!" Twilight came to a halt, as if suddenly aware of the magnitude of what they were doing. Up to now it had simply been a research project, a hard problem to be worried to submission, a challenge to be overcome.

"Only one way to find out." Twilight beamed happily, overcome with anticipation. "I'll bet they're busy resolving friendship issues no one in Equestria has had to face yet."

A very young-looking Princess Celestia squared off against an equally young-looking Princess Luna, who arched an eyebrow at her.

"Perhaps thou would be good enough to explain how, Sister Mine?" Luna's hoof pointed to a thick scroll held in her magic. "We turned in a complete and thorough analysis, with references, of the weaknesses and logical inconsistencies of the defensive spell-set provided us."

A short distance away along the corridor, an astonished Twilight and Starlight -- and a smugly un-surprised Trixie -- watched the young Princesses tearing into each other with the fury of long-nursed grievance.

Celestia ground her teeth. "I pointed out the practical consequences of a security spell like that on our subjects. How it could undermine their confidence in us, having a spell like that tracking their every move."

"The point is our subjects are ponies, Luna, not variables in an equation! If we are to serve them effectively, we need to remember to see things from their point of view."

"And which point of view is that?" Luna replied calmly. "The nobles? The common folk? The tradespeople? The butcher, the baker, the candle-stick maker? Opinion is all well and good, Sister, but spellwork will not be fooled! It is either completely correct or it is not worth bothering with."

"Hmph. Are we descending to using the Voice on each other?" Luna said dangerously. BECAUSE WE CAN SHOUT JUST AS LOUDLY AS THEE CAN!

The quietly stern voice from the classroom doorway made both of them turn. Star Swirl the Bearded, wearing his familiar wizard's robe and hat decorated with bells, glared sternly at both of them.

"I am not deaf, your Highnesses! And what is all this childish shouting meant to accomplish?"

Celestia looked ashamed, and was about to say something. But Luna spoke first. "Our sister feels that her less than stellar mark for today's assignment was undeserved."

"Blunt as a truncheon, as usual!" Celestia retorted. She took a steadying breath. "Star Swirl, I know you're generously taking time to educate us both in the art of spell construction. I simply feel that a pure focus on the mechanics of spellwork without consideration of its applications leaves something out -- something very important to us as rulers of an increasingly diverse land! If you'd just let me explain..."

"Celestia," Star Swirl interrupted, unmoved, "we have spoken about this often enough already. We must learn to walk before we run! You cannot play a symphony unless you are so at home with the notes that you don't even think about them anymore. I set you problems such as these to stretch your minds and your skills. When you are more experienced, then will be the time to start going into the niceties of the applications of your spellwork."

He gestured proudly at Luna with a forehoof. "Your sister understands this! She applies herself to the exercises as they are set. You could learn a lot by following her example."

"Come, Luna," Star Swirl said. "I promised you I'd start you on constructing transfiguration spells, and today's work proves you're more than ready to handle the potential issues and pitfalls. And Celestia, take another look at the spell-set I assigned you, and let me know what you come up with. I'm sure with time and patience you'll eventually get there."

The two of them walked off together, leaving Celestia alone in the corridor. But Luna could not resist adding insult to injury. Just as they turned the corner, she looked back and stuck out her tongue sassily.

Celestia simply stood where she was for a long moment. Then she turned and ran off the other way.

Celestia's longer legs easily left them in the dust but it wasn't hard to figure out where she was headed. She took every staircase leading upward, and finally ended in a heavily-guarded suite of rooms at the top of one of the towers.

She hadn't even bothered to close the bedroom doors behind her. Twilight and the others walked up to the downy bed, where the Princess of Equestria lay with her snout buried underneath a pillow. She wasn't crying. She definitely wasn't crying. She was taking lengthy, steadying breaths... which occasionally ended in a sob.

Twilight automatically reached out a comforting forehoof, disturbed at seeing her mentor so unhappy. Then she drew it back, remembering.

Starlight put her own hoof around Twilight's shoulders. "I'm sure she'd appreciate the thought, Twilight!" she whispered.

Celestia spoke from under the pillow, her voice steady, though a little muffled. "Yes. What is it, Sharp Quill?"

The black-maned clerk pony who had spoken consulted her clipboard briefly, then replied professionally as if nothing was amiss. "You are scheduled for afternoon Court today, Highness, alhough if you wish we can cancel. There are no diplomatic petitioners on the agenda at the moment."

"No." Celestia drew her snout from under the pillow, then sat up, rubbing her face with her hooves. "Duty to our subjects comes first. Give me a few minutes."

Celestia stalked over to a mirror above a nearby vanity and glared at her image. "Maybe Star Swirl doesn't value our diplomacy nearly as much as he should. We know its importance, don't we?"

Shaking her head, she swiftly dealt with her appearance, ran a brush through her ethereal mane, mostly on principle, then squared her shoulders and marched from the room.

Twilight and the others followed as she trotted back downstairs to the main audience chamber, then up the rightmost of its two red carpets, between the earth pony and unicorn delegations of waiting petitioners.

Arriving at last at the base of the dais with its twin Moon and Sun thrones, Celestia passed through the small army of clerks and guard ponies stationed immediately before the dais, and ascended the right-hand staircase to the gold-upholstered throne beneath its Sun banner.

Settling herself on the throne, she sat wordlessly, her head held high and serene, as the business of the Court commenced. But her expression was just a little too stiff, her gaze just a hair too cold, for Twilight's comfort.

"I'm going up there," she whispered. "Even if she can't see us, I can't stand seeing her sitting alone like this."

"Um... okay, Twilight!" Starlight whispered back. "We'll be here if you need us."

Twilight frowned at her, then she cautiously made her way through the crowd of clerks, and up the right-hand set of stairs. It felt almost sacrilegious, sneaking up to the throne like this, uninvited. As close as she was to the Celestia from her own time, she'd never been up here before, on the high platform of the Princess's throne.

Reaching the top she trotted over next to the throne and gently sat down. She looked up, and gazed out at a sea of pony faces.

All looking right at her. No, she reminded herself, anxiously. At Celestia. They can't see me. She turned to look up at the shockingly youthful face of her beloved mentor.

"Oh, look!" she grumbled. "It's Lady Rose Clipping, again. Probably still expects me to give her little gardens the royal imprimatur. And there's Lady Walking Stick, likely here to demand another guest ticket for the Gala next month, so she can show off to all her socialites. And Lord Chuffleworth... oh, Me! He won't have anything of substance to discuss. Just wants to be seen talking to me. Oh yes, and he can just drone on and on..."

The call of the Chief Steward rose above the hubbub of the Court. "His Excellency, Lord Snaffleback of the Unicorn Council!"

Twilight looked down the staircase to where a pompous, overdressed unicorn stallion with a gold-frosted mane was trotting forward from the middle group of petitioners to stand before the Sun throne. With the barest semblance of an acknowledging bow to the throne, he spoke up.

"Your Highness -- and I'm certain I speak for the great majority of the nobility when I say this -- the time has come for action against the Griffons! They invade our airspace, try to blame it all on us, and all but start a war in the process. We need to show them there are limits, and that they have crossed them!"

"We already have, Lord Snaffleback," Celestia retorted flatly. "As I reported to the Council last week. We have established a new treaty --"

"A new treaty?" Snaffleback interrupted. "And what good will that do, when they so quickly dismissed the last one over a legal technicality?"

"With a plate of éclairs!" He hooted. "Because their own pastry chef was on strike! I mean, really! What kind of incompetents and mental deficients are we dealing with here? If their hearts are so easily turned today, what will keep them from turning against us tomorrow? We can't trust them and their sneaky ways! They're too clever by half! Probably plotting against us behind our backs!"

"Calmly, Lord Snaffleback," Celestia said, through gritted teeth. "Luna and I have plans..."

"This is not a time for plans!" Snaffleback pointed a hoof at her. "This is a time for decisive action! You need to show that the Three Kingdoms made the right decision in placing our future in the hooves of the Two Sisters. You need to show strength! Decisiveness! You need to let Equestria see it is led by ponies of conviction, who have the power to rule and are not afraid to use it! As I have always said..."

Celestia's teeth ground, and her eyes narrowed angrily. "Keeping your comfortable life and pleasant little social circle safe isn't enough for you?" she muttered softly as he finished speaking. "You don't know the half of what I could do to you, you little stuffed-shirt ingrate!"

"We... appreciate thy suggestion, Lord Snaffleback. We shall... take it under advisement. If there is nothing further...?"

And he went on, for upwards of twenty minutes, shouting and posturing and making grand sweeps of his forehooves. And Celestia merely sat on her throne, grim and silent, as he berated her like a filly.

Twilight could see how tensely annoyed the Princess was, all but quivering with repressed rage. End it! Twilight thought to herself. Cut it short! It's what you would do! I mean, the you that I know a thousand plus years in the future. Gently but firmly end the audience... let him know he's gone too far!

"Well," he concluded smugly, "I hope I've made my feelings -- I mean our feelings -- on the subject quite clear!"

"I would say you have!" Celestia replied levelly, as if she didn't trust herself to express any emotion at that moment. "Good day, Lord Snaffleback."

Immensely proud of himself, Snaffleback again offered the merest hint of a bow, then turned and swept away surrounded by a small coterie of friends and business associates.

Then she inhaled, squared her shoulders, and looked to the Chief Steward to announce the next petitioner.

Who was an overweight Lady pony with a ridiculously coiffed silver mane, who spent ten minutes complaining about everything from the price of tea to the lack of deference being displayed to the nobility "by those of lower station", as she put it.

And then there was another Lord, a business-pony, who pointedly wanted to know why taxes were so high, and complained about what it was doing to his many ventures and their ability to turn a profit.

And on. And on. Twilight felt so sad for Celestia, having to just sit there and take it, letting everypony thoughtlessly dump their concerns on her without raising a hoof to stop it. More than once Twilight wished there was something she could say, or do, or even just make happen, to help in some way.

But, she told herself, that's the point. This was what had happened, and the time-lens spell was letting her see it for herself.... but at a cost: being unable to change a single line of it.

After a while she simply couldn't take any more. She crept back down the stairs and through the clerks, and over to where Starlight and Trixie were sitting near the crowd of waiting petitioners. And she felt horrible for doing it. She was supposed to be Princess material, and here she was all but abandoning her beloved mentor to her fate.

Starlight gave her an understanding look when she rejoined them. "That looked... painful to experience. I'm sorry, Twilight! At least you have the comfort of knowing Celestia gets better at it."

"But what does she have, right here and now?" Twilight gestured towards the throne. "She works so hard, keeps it all together, and everything she does just flies right over their heads! They don't have the basic decency to thank her for anything!"

"They might," Trixie put in, "if she just stood up for herself! If she told them off, now and then! First rule of crowd control: you're in control, so act like it! Even a show-pony like me knows that!"

Starlight nudged her furiously. But Twilight just nodded. "You're right, Trixie. I felt the same way, sitting up there next to her. I suppose it's just something she learns how to do eventually."

"You want to stick around?" Starlight asked. "I mean, it is a little dull, but I'm still amazed that the spell has held together for this long."

"No. It's not fair to the two of you. We should see if there's anything else we can learn while we're here, and then head back."

"No! Well... yeah," Twilight shrugged. "You know me! There's always a chance we might come across a book that's been lost in our time."

"Would we be able to take it down from the shelf and read it?" Starlight asked. "Wouldn't the spell prevent that?"

"Not if where it happened to end up was inconsequential. And as long as no one saw the book being moved around. The self-healing variance we added to the spell would allow for that."

"And as long as moving the book didn't keep it from being lost," Starlight pointed out. "But that's only if its being lost actually mattered. Aaah! My head hurts just thinking about the practical effects... and I wrote that variance into the spell!"

"Sorry, Trixie," Twilight sighed. "Maybe we should head back to the spell portal and move it ahead a few days or weeks, and see if we can find out when the Sisters actually travelled to the Crystal Empire. Then we could come back on the right day."

They all looked up. Celestia had risen from her throne. There was a scroll held tightly in the gleam of her magic.

"Please pardon us, everypony!" she called, tensely. "A matter of some urgency has arisen. We must therefore end Court earlier than planned this afternoon. Steward, please reschedule our guests accordingly!"

Without another word, Celestia all but ran down the stairs and strode swiftly down the length of the hall. Belatedly, Twilight and her friends got up and hurried after her.

They followed Celestia as she hurried outside and down the corridor, then swept through a guarded doorway into a private wing of the palace.

But once the doors had shut behind her, Celestia suddenly came to a halt. She sat down, right in the middle of the corridor, head down and breathing hard. Twilight and the others gathered around her, puzzled.

"Shhh!" Twilight said automatically. Then slapped a hoof to her mouth, embarrassed. After all, they couldn't be heard anyway.

Celestia lifted her head, opened the scroll, and read it. Her breath caught, her eyes brimming with tears. The scroll slipped from her magic, falling to the floor. Her head fell to her breast again, as she sobbed inconsolably.

"It is... early, Sister," she said. "We had not expected to find you available so soon."

"For what?" Celestia laughed humorlessly. "Being more intelligent, more diligent than your big sister?"

"For mocking you. That was... undignified of us. We were... well, we were carried away a bit. The research we did took a lot of time and attention, and Star Swirl's response to it was most gratifying."

"Only by dint of hard work, and application, Sister. And his praise for our work made us feel... a little full of ourselves. Our diligence is often taken for granted. It is... agreeable when it is acknowledged, is it not?"

"Because you weren't listening, were you?" Celestia snapped at her. "You never listen! Just like always, going on and on about yourself! About how you're so important, how you work so hard, and so everything naturally revolves around you!"

"And you're not apologizing for that at all, are you? Oh, no, not my brilliant little sister who runs rings around me at every opportunity. You're sorry because you went just a little too far, and broke your normal mask of cold, calculating indifference! You want to pretend that never happened! You want to take back a trivial slight! As if that somehow makes all the rest of it any better!"

"We came to apologize in order to avoid further disagreement, Sister," she replied sharply. "We shall come back later, when thou has had a chance to cool off."

Celestia managed to contain herself until Luna had almost turned the corner. Then the Royal Voice rang out.

Celestia gasped, screwed her eyes shut, and shook her head in frustration. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she told herself. "Why did I say that?"

Then she halted, and looked up angrily. "Still... it isn't as if she didn't deserve it."

And then she leapt up from the floor and stalked away up the corridor, leaving three astonished ponies in her wake.

And the scroll as well, lying partly unrolled on the floor. Twilight cautiously inched toward it until she could read the part of the message that was visible:

My Dearest Princess Celestia --
I must begin by apologizing for not presenting this missive to you myself. I feel it is better this way.
I have honorably sought your hoof for some time, and have always felt we would be well-matched for each other. My respect and care for you demands I tell you the truth. I have discovered a true love, a special somepony, one whom I must be with, she who lights my heart with a unquestionable passion whenever I see her.
Know always you shall remain my one true sovereign, and I shall keep our correspondence totally confidential...

"No...!" Twilight whispered in disbelief, eyes wide. She could not read the name, which was hidden inside the curve of the paper. And she was not at all certain she wanted to know who it was. "What kind of monster could do that to her... dump Princess Celestia for somepony else? And not even have the courage to tell her face-to-face?"

She heard Celestia's steps suddenly come to a halt. She looked up. For a horrified instant she found herself looking directly into Celestia's eyes. Did the spell fail? Twilight wondered. Can she see me?

Then she realized it was the scroll Celestia was staring at... with a glare of unmitigated fury.

Twilight dove out of the way just in time as a blast from Celestia's horn immolated the scroll, searing it to ash and charred fragments of parchment.

And Twilight simply lay where she'd fallen, wondering if her heart would ever stop pounding.

The three ponies silently returned to the spell's endpoint in the Everfree Forest. Twilight and Starlight cautiously unlocked the spell's duty-cycle, and then brought it to a halt. The forest faded out around them, and was replaced by the audience chamber in Twilight's castle, just as they had left it.

A little nervously they went out for an early lunch at Sugarcube Corner, more to reassure themselves that their journey through time had had no ill effects than because they were hungry.

All was as it had been, as far as they could tell from observation and careful questioning. Celestia and Luna still ruled Equestria. The Elements of Harmony were still located in Ponyville, and they were the same six ponies. And Pinkie Pie was still Pinkie Pie, serving up muffins and punch at the counter with gleeful abandon. Near as they could tell, the first major trial of a time-lens spell was an unqualified success.

Twilight morosely fidgeted with her muffin, having barely nibbled a few crumbs from its brown-sugar topping.

"They say never look too closely at your heroes," Starlight finally said. "Also it makes a difference whether you've grown up with someone... like with A.J. and Countess Coloratura. Then you can remember who they were, and can put how they've changed in perspective."

"I know," Twilight groaned. "And I get it, she's not the Celestia I know and love beyond all other ponies. Did I just say that? Well, I meant it! What really hurts is that I couldn't do anything! I had to just sit there and watch her take it! When everything she's taught me made me want to stand up for her, pitch in and help out!"

Trixie was unusually subdued. "She's lucky she has someone who'd want to stand up for her like that... even knowing it would change history."

"Soooo..." Starlight asked, after another long pause. "Are we going back again?"

"We have to!" Twilight said, slapping the table with a hoof. "We still don't know what we went back to find out!" She glanced around, and then lowered her voice. "We don't even know when the Princesses are going to be summoned to the Crystal Empire."

"Oh! Well!" Trixie put on an extremely smug look. "The Grrreat and Powerful Trrrixie can help you there, Twilight. They'll be going tomorrow!"

Trixie examined a hoof coolly. "Oh, just had a peek at a scroll that some courier pony from the Crystal Empire was most anxious to deliver. And would have done, if Celestia hadn't ducked out so suddenly." She gave the others a look of mock surprise. "What can I say? I was getting bored just sitting there. And I never miss a chance to keep my hoof in, so to speak. You think I, Equestria's greatest stage magician, can't pull off a simple sleight-of-hoof?" She giggled mischievously. "He never even knew I lifted it! And unsealing and resealing a scroll is easy if you're not too worried about anyone checking it closely. The courier didn't look like he'd been told what it said, and looked spineless enough not to insist on delivering it immediately, so he'll just wait for the next session of the court, and..."

"Oh! Sorry! It was from Princess Amore of the Crystal Empire, asking the Princesses for their assistance because the Crystal Heart has been stolen!"

Daybreaker

by Lets Do This

Never Look Too Closely At Your Heroes