Chapter Four (tbd):
Time is a fickle thing, really, once you really get down to the root of the matter. It has long been argued that the passage of time is nothing more than the invention of sapient individuals, a sort of self-imposed order on their daily lives - though from planet to planet, dimension to dimension and yes, even universe to universe, the passage of time is all subjective to its own.
What I really mean by that is, of course, that “time” simply does not exist. Sure, we may use it to describe how we experience our own existences in our own realms; but it all boils down to naught in the end, every time. Countless arrays of dimension, sub-dimension, universe, multiverse, subconscious existence, collective consciousness or any aberration further thereof have been, and then simply not been.
One human being, in the eighteenth century, invented something so deceptively simple that his colleagues, critics and peers at the time were made to simply ignore the vast implications that the answer to everything implies. Binary code, originally the language of logical statements converted to a pure mathematical form, eventually was adapted and subsequently evolved into the language that computers and assorted peripherals, secondary and tertiary technology use. A series of ones and zeroes, zero meaning ‘on,’ one meaning ‘off.’ Like all of existence. Something, nothing. On, off. Living, dead. On, off. Matter, antimatter. On, off. Positive charge, negative charge. On, off.
The implications - the true, universe defining implications - were lost to man until many, many centuries into his future. That is a story for another time.
There I go again, I suppose - the weaver of tales, off on another ones of his tangents, waxing lyrical about the multiverse like some sort of love-sick puppy.
As Twilight Sparkle sat, lost in her own thoughts at the astonishing, terrifying news the Princess had shared, her companions were settling in elsewhere at the castle.
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Rarity was on cloud nine, in every sense of the phrase. She fought back the urge to squee with glee - their accommodations were well beyond her expectations - even more luxurious than the private tower suite Princess Celestia had granted her access to, only a few years ago. She subconsciously cataloged every bit of furniture, decoration and overall general colour scheme she could behold. Her well trained eyes swept giddily over the interior of the lavish guest suite, the interior decor practically resounding within her very being.
Now, this! she thought to herself. This is truly the most magnificent application of the art of design that I have ever laid eyes upon! Why, this suite simply gushes with only the most well known and well respected ponies of the craft!
“Why, could it be-? Oh, it simply must be!" she found herself saying aloud. "These curtains practically sing of the craftsponyship of none other than Sash Couture herself! And - and these sheets! The pegasus down pillows! The custom-embroidered comforter, with - my, yes it is! The very signature of the legendary Silk Sheets!”
Spike stifled a chuckle, while suppressing the urge to blush at seeing the object of his desire to gleeful. “Gosh, Rarity, you’re already excited about just the furniture here! Imagine what it’ll be like to meet all those... how’d you put it, Pinkie?”
“All those smarty-pants ponies that’re on the research team with Twilight?” The pink pony posited.
“Uh, yeah! That!” Spike agreed.
“Well, yes, but of course!” Rarity said. “I am merely preparing myself for meeting these well-respected individuals by allowing myself to indulge in a bit of a vicarious thrill-ride via these simply divine home decorations!”
“Um... Pinkie, did’ya happen to catch any of that?” Spike asked, rubbing the back of his head. “I got nothin’.”
“Rarity’s getting super hyped by the furniture so she can be even more hyped when she’s meeting all the smarty-pants ponies!” Pinkie translated. “Wait, when do ponies even have pants? What... what are pants? Rarity? Do you know what pants are?”
“Never heard of them, darling. I had just assumed that it was yet another one of your words that you happen to have in your... rather ‘creative’ vocabulary.”
“Huh. How ‘bout that,” Pinkie Pie said to no one in particular.
The three of them continued to make small talk as they unpacked. The guest accommodations were rather lavish, as was to be expected for guests staying in the great nation of Equestria’s capitol: laid out in a sort of postbox formation, there were four spacious rooms, each with a private bathroom complete with amenities one might expect at a five-star hotel or penthouse suite. Each room opened up into the common area, a sprawling open space with white marble columns interspersed throughout. There was a kitchen with a well-stocked pantry, refrigerator, freezer and oven/range combination, with an equally well-stocked bar that sported some rather expensive labels. Rarity found herself eyeing the well-aged Jura whiskey.
Past the plush couches and cushions seated in a circle around a large table, on the far wall was a series of sliding glass doors that led out onto an alabaster balcony, which was littered with various chairs meant for sunbathing. There was even a jacuzzi complete with a magically enchanted rune situated on a spacious corner of the balcony itself, affording a beautiful view of the city below. The two ponies and young dragon found themselves drawn to the practically majestic scenery, basking in the warm glow of the late afternoon’s light.
“This is simply...” Rarity began, trailing off in mid-sentence?
“Super awesome-irrific?” Pinkie offered.
“Marvelous?” Spike suggested.
“Marvelous,” Rarity confirmed, sighing an airy, contented sigh.
“Hey, guys?” Pinkie said suddenly, carrying a soft edge to her tone. “I just want you all to know... no matter what happens this next week, I just wanted you to know that you’re some of my bestest friends, and I really mean that. I know that I have a lot of friends back in Ponyville, and I always make friends when I visit Canterlot... but you’re two of my bestest.”
“Pinkie Pie, that’s... rather touching, really. But why so solemn, dear? Isn’t this view simply breathtaking?”
The sun continued its slow, unrelenting descent into the horizon. Its golden light illuminated the streets below, bustling with Equestria’s most privileged and elite. The faint sound of the din from the city below was swept up by the rustle of the wind, sweeping over the great, sprawling expanse, carrying the well-blended noises to their ears. The practically mouth-watering smell of freshly-baked bread from the kitchens below wafted ever upward as there was a knock at the door.
“Now, whomever could that be?” Rarity asked aloud, turning from the picturesque scene towards the noise. The white unicorn mare trotted at an even pace toward the front door, her well-coiffed purple mane bouncing with every step. With a small wave of her magic, she opened the door, revealing a bronze earth pony mare with a dark red mane, complete with a traditional Canterlotian maid’s uniform and cap.
“Special order from Guards Steelwing and Thunderlane, Sr.,” the mare announced in a sing-song voice, pushing in a rather large, shiny silver cart adorned with several platters covered with equally shiny silver lids. The maid deftly lifted the lids from the four platters on the elongated cart, cradling them under her foreleg as she collected them one by one. With a bow of her head, the earth pony mare silently left the room.
Pinkie Pie and Spike entered from the balcony, curious about the new addition.
“What’s that?” Pinkie asked.
“Well, it would appear to be our late lunch - courtesy of Steelwing and Thunderlane, Sr., no less! My, how thoughtful of the gentlecolts to provide lunch for us!”
“Whoa! Yeah, that was pretty sweet of them,” Spike said. “Let’s dig in!” He hungrily made his way toward the steaming trays of fine Canterlot cuisine before him.
“Ah-ah-ah!” Rarity tittered. “Now, Spike - a gentlecolt must remember his table manners when with company, yes?” Rarity swept her eyes over the suite. “Ah, this should do nicely. Come, now, Spike - you can help me set the table!”