That morning, Celestia put as much effort into the sunrise as she could manage under the circumstances. The local weather reports would later refer to this particular dawn as “beyond stunning”: reds, pinks and golds melding into a pool of warm color that spread in sweet rays over Canterlot like a dream. Not a single cloud marred the expanse of pure honeyglow, except of course for the sparse bits of fluff she had placed precisely so that they would reflect off the light. Like cotton candy suspended in the air. Meringue in a syrup of sunlight. So on and so forth.
She played with the sky for approximately fifteen minutes longer than she normally did. Then she turned from her balcony, fluffed her wings, and set out to help her little ponies like she would any other day.
Sun Court went by in a saccharine blur of mostly smiles and nods. The few griping nobles were quickly placated with a few pulled strings and compromises. As the sun dipped in the sky, nearing the horizon, Celestia dismissed her court and made sure to tell Raven that she had, as always, done an excellent job.
Right as the sun set for the day, Celestia pointedly ignored the implosion of energy she felt clear across the world. Like a light going out. A snap and then a surprised yell. A silence, so, so quiet that she felt it shiver down her bones. She didn’t wince, nor think about it.
She pushed it from her head and then gifted her most senior member of her cleaning staff, Miss Shoeshine, a night off and a reservation at that restaurant she’d been saving bits for. Celestia listened to Shoeshine’s happy rambling, and then she started her way outside.
She trotted heavily into the statue garden just as Luna lifted her moon. At the end of the garden, near the entrance to their modest hedge maze, Luna had set up a small picnic table and their two favorite cushions to sit for a drink. Already Celestia could see the turquoise bubble of silence shimmering faintly around the area, and at the bubble’s edge there was the glint of harsh gold that had to be Luna’s finest thestral guards eyeing her from the shadows. Luna, resting on her side as her horn waned from the moonrise, levitated a faded novel to her muzzle as she waited for Celestia.
Before joining Luna, Celestia took one second to walk towards a faint whistling coming from the edge of the garden. Mr. Greenhooves was at the end of the yard trimming at the grass, occasionally lifting a piece of trash from a tourist earlier in the day. Working a late shift, as always. He always was so loyal. Always came in early, always stayed late to trim the yard to perfection despite Celestia’s insistence that he had earned more than a few rushed jobs.
He deserved so much more than he’d gotten.
“Why hello, Mr. Greenhooves. I must say, the petunias you’ve been tending look absolutely lovely,” she said, leaning down to grin at him.
He blushed, mumbled something about how he’d only given them a bit more magic lately, and continued to whistle. He always did get nervous around her. Celestia whistled along to his little beat (an old game of theirs) for a little while, before chuckling as she lost the tune.
“Well then, you’re dismissed for the day. Oh! And I almost forgot: an early anniversary present for you and Rose. Do say hello to her for me, won’t you?”
Celestia levitated a pouch sagging with bits from her withers, and gently placed it into one of the flaps of his saddlebags. His eyes went wide and his jaw jiggled as he looked at this, frankly, ridiculous amount of bits, and Celestia was sure he was about to say that he couldn’t possibly have earned so much or something ridiculous like that. So she levitated another bag into his other saddle-pouch, winked at him, and teleported to where Luna was waiting for her without giving him a chance to say anything.
As she popped in and sagged into her golden cushion, Luna raised a brow at her and set down her novel.
“I’m assuming the gifts have gone over well today, Sister? Or have you simply convinced the entirety of our staff that you’ve finally gone senile?”
Celestia breathed out an airy laugh and poured herself a cup of tea. “Most likely the latter. Though they do seem happy, at least.”
There was a pause. Luna blinked and sipped her tea. The air around them got colder in a snap.
“Yes. Well. I suppose that’s the best we can do now.”
Another pause. Celestia sighed and finally let her fake smile drop. Her jaw ached from holding it for so long.
Her body felt so heavy. The tea tonight was so very, very bitter.
“Well then. Should we talk about it then, Luna?” Celestia breathed. “I know you don’t fully agree with my decision.”
Luna crossed her hooves over the table and narrowed her eyes. Those irises, so very blue and icy, should have been angry. Luna should have been furious with her. She should have been standing up and stomping her hooves and breaking the table into shards. That’s what she would have been doing, had this conversation hadn’t come so early. If she was feeling particularly snippy she might even slap her across the face and tell her she was being an old fool. But instead she just looked so tired. She laid there on her side, and she blinked slowly, and tried to hide the twitch of her right ear that always gave away her sadness since she was a filly.
“I find it hard to, Tia,” she relented. “The general populace, I understand. But the Element Bearers? Twilight Sparkle? Do they not deserve to know what will happen?”
Celestia nodded. “I would completely agree with you, Luna, trust me. It’s only that…”
She couldn’t finish her sentence. Her mouth was too dry, like aching sand. It felt like that all day, and now it was getting to her. She greedily downed her cup of tea - and noticed that this second drink, somehow, tasted more like milk chocolate than jasmine. A delayed gift from Discord then?
Luna noticed her scrunch her muzzle up, and flicked her hoof to the side. Beside her, swaying cutely in the grass, were two flowers shining impossibly bright white and blue. Celestia hadn’t noticed them until now but… they were lovely. And they certainly hadn’t been there before this afternoon.
A snap and a scream. An implosion of energy clear across the world.
Celestia’s eyes were tired and dry, so she rubbed them. Then she slumped her chin down onto the table like she hadn’t since she was a teenager. Her hair looked awful splayed out like that and it got in her face, but it felt right.
Luna cleared her throat. “The timing of all of this is unfortunate. I, myself, have concerns as to how Twilight Sparkle would react should we tell her. But what about when she inevitably finds out on her own, dear sister? Won’t it destroy her? Will she not be crushed to know that two of her dear friends have kept this from her? She… I…”
Luna screwed her eyes shut.
“She’s my friend, Tia. They all are. And it pains Us- me- to know that we may be hurting them more by leaving them in the dark.”
“What if we do tell them, though, Luna? Right before the spell? How can we expect them to do their duty and deal with the reality of it at the same time? At least if they raise the sun and moon first--”
“You have no way of knowing if they will do so before Twilight learns the truth.”
“That’s true. But neither do you, Luna. At least I am trying,” Celestia bit. Then she realized how awful that sounded. Of course Luna only wished for her friends’ happiness, as she just said. There was no reason to be so forceful. So she shook her head violently and, “-No. No, you know I didn’t mean that, Lulu. You’re trying as well. I only... “
Luna didn’t flinch at Celestia’s outburst. Only steepled her hooves in front of her and pressed the rim of her teacup to her muzzle. “Yes. A rock and a hard place, it would seem. Especially since Discord never returned.”
Celestia took another sip of tea. So very bitter. She hated jasmine. But if nothing else it helped to clear her head. Helped to harken her mind back, so very far back, to the first time she had her tea at this table all alone. So very, achingly alone. And before even that, when she had dismissed her sister’s sadness as mere whining at a lack of attention.
Celestia wanted to slap herself for many reasons, then. The major one was because she had dared to think that it was she, and not Luna, who was the wise one here. She should have listened back then, before Nightmare Moon. Before everything, truly. Should she not listen now? Would it…
Would it even make a difference in the end? How long, exactly, did they have? Where had it all gone?
“Well, Luna,” she mumbled before she could start spiraling, “You know I value your views on these things. If the past proves anything it’s that I should heed my beloved sister’s warnings.”
Luna tried to object. Celestia wouldn’t let her.
“If you believe,” she continued, “that I should inform Twilight and the Bearers of what is to come… then I will. I trust your judgement, Lulu.”
Silence. Such a long silence, as Luna weighed the options before her. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to put the decision on Luna’s withers. Then again, very little was fair about this situation at all.
It was just so soon. Too soon.
All movement ceased, the two of them falling still as the statues around them. The wind whispered so very quietly through the hedges, the grass, the trees. The guards stood ever faithful, and only their quiet breaths filled the echoes of tinnitus in Celestia’s ear. It was only after what felt like hours of gazing at the flowers by her side, and up to the heavens where the silver moon hung like a gorgeous spotlight from heaven, that Luna seemed to make her decision.
Luna stood. The guards twitched in the blackness, as if ready to follow her at any moment. She stretched her wings, poured half the teakettle down her throat, then steeled her gaze to the grass below.
“No,” she snorted. “I would not have them grieve as we did. Not until they have time to do so properly. I go tonight.”
Then, with a flash of teleportation, Luna was gone. Before Celestia could even fully realize what her sister had said. Before she could contemplate the ramifications of Luna taking her leave now. Before she could say goodbye, good luck.
Before she could say that she loved her and always would.
When the realization hit her, Celestia didn’t weep.
Instead, she sent Twilight Sparkle a very important package, containing exactly one book and a letter describing it as a tome of Starswirl’s unfinished spells. She went up to her balcony, prepared herself for the most powerful and important spell she would ever finish casting in her life. Hours from now, it would have to be perfect.
Then she thought of what she would do for her sunrise this coming dawn. No matter what she did with her pallette, Celestia was confident of two things:
Morning in Ponyville would shimmer. And morning in Ponyville would shine.
When the energy from the Elements of Harmony struck her, Twilight wasn’t afraid. The initial burst was startling, sure, but as the color and light washed over her, filling her being with warmth and cradling her in its grip, she relaxed into the magic’s gentle pull. As the spell coalesced around her she felt a pull on her barrell, her legs, horn, everything, and then the stomach-drop and dizziness that came from a particularly strong teleportation spell. Her vision tunneled, filled with a pure burning white, and then a pop louder than anything rang in her ears.
She fell gently to the ground and opened her eyes.
She whinnied and yanked back as she realized there wasn’t any ground beneath her. Underneath there was an ocean of blue-black, an expanse of stars twinkling impossibly far away. At any second she expected to start tumbling head over hooves in a free-fall, but… her hooves stuck firm. Some invisible force beneath her kept her standing, as if she were high above the sky on a bridge of glass. Like the stars below were nothing but fireflies trapped in a block of resin.
After her stomach stopped churning, Twilight breathed deep and looked up. She was sort of hoping the vertigo would wane once she did, but if anything it only got worse as she realized there were no walls or ceiling either. Instead this place, this plane of wane starlight filled with magic that buzzed through her horn, stretched on infinitely in all directions.
Where in Equestria did the Elements send her? Or, more likely, where outside of Equestria did it send her?
She twirled around in a circle, looking all around her for the sign of anypony or anything to guide her. As she did she noticed there was no wind here, nor any sound that wasn’t her own breathing. Instead her mane floated ethereally in the nothingness like Celestia and Luna’s did, and her hoofbeats were silent.
She tried her breathing exercises and studied her surroundings with narrowed eyes while she waited for something to happen. Eventually it did. A flash of light and heat behind her, and a cracking noise that echoed off into the dead air like a whisper. Twilight whipped around and--
Celestia!
Princess Celestia flashed in, crumpling into her right side at the contact of the ground before righting herself. She lifted up, giant wings splaying to the sky. Her feathers glinted with a thousand lights, twinkled with the flames of suns billions of miles away. As soon as she opened her eyes and saw Twilight she smiled - then started with a tiny gasp. Before Twilight could tell what was wrong, Celestia curled into herself, hiding the right side of her body with her wing.
Twilight frowned at that. Oh no! What was wrong? Could Twilight’s spell or the activation of the Elements have somehow injured her? Or did something else happen? Something terrible?!
Then, with a whinny, Twilight decided that it didn’t matter right now. Because it was Princess Celestia! Oh, thank goodness she was here, surely she’d have some answers. After all, Twilight started her day thinking everything was fine, but then it turns out that the unfinished spell Celestia sent her made her friends’ destinies change -- did Celestia know that had happened? Was that her plan or had Twilight made a mistake? And how in Equestria had the spell worked in such a way anyway? Twilight had never seen anything like it. There was also the fact that the Elements of Harmony were involved and that they sent here here -- wherever here was. Where were they? What was happening?!
Twilight shook her head and tried to get her thoughts straight. It would all be okay now. Surely if the Elements were involved in this then Celestia would know at least something, right? Everything would be okay now and she could go back to Ponyville and apologize properly to her friends for what she had done to them, then maybe even have some time for a good nap. So Twilight breathed deep, rushed to Princess Celestia, and did the most reasonable thing she could think of: she started rambling.
She had made it into maybe her fourth or fifth question before Celestia gently laid a wingtip to her lips.
“Twilight, Twilight, my pupil, I know you must be confused but please. I can only answer one question at a time, and I’m afraid we have a lot to discuss.”
Twilight grimaced. Oh. Right. She meekly chuckled back, then did the breathing exercises Cadance taught her one more time to calm down. She needed to think straight if she wanted to figure out what was happening.
Before she could say anything, Celestia moved to Twilight’s side with the gentlest little shake of her head. She trotted over to stand beside her, and laid her wing over Twilight’s tiny frame like a blanket, like she used to when Twilight was only a little filly and she was about to be taught a hard lesson. It was so warm, and grounding, and Twilight shut her mind off and started listening at the contact on instinct.
“Come now, Twilight. I have a lot I need to tell you, and I’m afraid I don't have much time. Now please,” she murmured, tilting her head forward. She lit her horn. “Look.”
Twilight licked her dry lips and did as told, and--
Her breath caught. All around them, apparating out of the nothingness in a blink, flat planes of light floated in close. Like projection screens made of pure magic, they popped into existence all around, caught in the honeyglow of Celestia’s telekinesis. They hugged beside them and stretched out endlessly into that bright horizon. As they gathered and formed into a neat line they made what almost seemed to be a hallway of screens, like the kind used to give information at magic emporiums Twilight visited back in Canterlot. The light refracting from them illuminated whatever field they were standing on. Beneath Twilight's tiny little hooves, a floor of light and magic glimmered beneath her, obscuring the vast nothingness. Whether Celestia meant for it to or not, it did help Twilight breathe a bit. Staring into an endless plane was a bit… well, a lot overwhelming, actually! Even without a ceiling, having a few borders around her was comforting.
Twilight was about to say so and thank Celestia when the screens turned on.
All at once the hall before them exploded into a cacophony of noise and color. The screens flicked on and… it was her. Twilight, and her friends and family. It seemed to be snippets, little recordings of past events. Twilight turned to look at the nearest screen and watched as it played back what had just happened to her -- the Elements shooting her with magic and the teleportation spell sending her here. Then it faded off, apparently no longer recording the present, and began to repeat. She turned to look down that grand hallway next, and if its length was anything to go by, it held recordings of important events from her entire life.
“As you can tell,” Celestia started, shocking Twilight out of her reverie, “this place is quite old, and quite magical. It is also very important. It serves as a library, of sorts, of all important events in Equestria as witnessed by the Element bearers. As you might have guessed, everything as far back as your birth has been recorded.”
Celestia grabbed the screen closest to her in her magic, then with a twist of her horn, all of the screens floated by as if in a unit. Like film being pulled through a projector, images and memories flitted past in reverse-chronological order, picking up speed and blurring into a dizzying mass of color until Celestia reached what seemed to be the end -- and Twilight… admittedly had to flinch away at the memory the very last screen was showing her. Of course she knew what childbirth entailed, but reading about it and seeing it are two very different things. Especially since it was her own birth.
Celestia gave a laugh at her expense, then continued, “Of course, there’s more than just your history, my pupil. Your friends have their own accounts stored here as well. Mine and Luna’s as well. Would you like to try to summon my history, Twilight? It’s as simple as emptying your mind and wishing for what you want to have called forth. The magic here will do the rest.”
Twilight’s brain short-circuited. She might have squeaked.
Celestia’s history? All of it? As in, thousands of years of knowledge some of it lost to time and found nowhere else in recorded history, now open before her?! Not to mention that these recordings seemed crystal clear in their audio and visuals, at least in the little she’d seen so far. This was more than just a history book, written in a language long forgotten, nor was it a reel of film, with its crackling audio playback and dusty light-blackened edges. This was an impeccably-preserved library of everything that had happened since the moment Celestia was born. Landmasses had changed, dynasties had risen and fell, technology had advanced more than Twilight could even imagine!
Oh, Twilight could dance just thinking about it. In fact she was dancing in place, and maybe even squealing a little bit. She just couldn’t help it! This was so amazing! The most incredible gift she’d ever been given. How much was here for her, Celsetia, Luna, and possibly Cadance alone? Would Celestia allow her to write about and publish any of it?! Oh Equestria, the possibilities granted to her by all this pure knowledge were endless!
“Ehem. Twilight? Are you still in there?”
--Oh. Right. Celestia was here. Right here. Staring at her with a smug little smile.
And oh- Twilight withered. Thought about the sight of her own birth, every detail impeccable and beautiful and disgusting all at once. It wasn’t exactly the most pleasant thing to see herself, but the knowledge that somepony, even Princess Celestia, could watch this whenever they wanted, along with every failure she’d ever known, made her skin crawl. She trusted Celestia not to snoop unnecessarily, of course, but it all seemed... well, breach of privacy might be an understatement.
And these were Celestia’s personal memories. Princess Celestia.The things here… they were things that had happened to Princess Celestia personally. Twilight knew, after everything, that Celestia had regrets that hung over her so heavy, so choking. A thousand years of loneliness and guilt, among other things.
“Are you sure, Princess? I mean, you know I would love to see these things, but… I wouldn’t want to impose if any of this is private.”
Celestia only gave her another shake of her head. “I’m positive. I wouldn’t have offered if I was embarrassed at all, and I feel it’s time to stop keeping secrets. Especially from you, Twilight. Now please. It should be as easy as looking through a catalogue and floating what you want to see forward with telekinesis. This realm does much to ensure the process is easy.”
Celestia squeezed her wing to Twilight’s side and looked at her expectantly. Twilight was still hesitant. Not about the spell - if Celestia was correct then that would be no problem. But possibly seeing something like Celestia’s first kiss or even her birth seemed pretty… voyeuristic. If Twilight didn’t clear her mind enough and got distracted by a thought like that, would she end up calling forth a vision of something embarrassing or terrible? Would Celestia mind?
Still, Celestia had asked her to, said they didn’t have much time...
Twilight lit her horn with simple telekinesis, hoping that was enough.
Really, it was even easier than Celestia said it would be. Twilight had barely started meditating and radiating out the thought of Celestia, and here came the screens. They piled in from nowhere, shuffling in like a deck of cards as the visions of Twilight’s history ebbed away. Much like when Twilight’s screens appeared, Celestia’s filed in cleanly and carefully. It was seemingly all of them, even though Twilight was expecting a single moment, and they only appeared to Twilight’s front instead of to either flank, but there they were. Currently, Twilight stared at a live “recording” of the present, but to her left, pictures of Celestia stretched on and on until they were nothing but dots in Twilight’s vision.
Twilight’s pulse beat heavy as a drum against her breastbone and her mouth went so achingly dry as she saw just how much was stored here. How much information the Princess herself was trusting her with. And it was all already filed chronologically!
Celestia leaned down to Twilight’s level and breathed, “Scrolling through memories is as easy as turning a page. Give it a try, my student.”
Twilight did, breathless at what she was she was seeing, and the next screen over flicked to float before them. The image on it dulled to black as it sensed it was being moved, then started from the beginning.
Images of Celestia faded in, as did the scene around her. She was sitting on her balcony, sipping tea. The cup was shaking in her grip, and her gaze was watery. Twilight watched, perplexed, as Celestia simply laid there on her cushion, staring out towards Ponyville, not doing anything. Not even drinking. The cup she was holding was full, and no longer even steaming.
Then something changed. It wasn’t apparent on the screen. Twilight strained her eyes and ears, intent on absorbing every detail being fed to her, but she noticed nothing. Not even the wind, billowing gently, picked up speed. Still, Celestia stiffened, and even through this medium Twilight, too, could feel a shift. A vibration, normally so easily ignored as the impact of a single hoof to the floor, a single butterfly’s wing beats… but this was different. Somehow, despite not even being there, Twilight felt the dread. It splashed down her spine, clung to the dock of her tail. Her muscles seized painfully at the sametime memory-Celestia’s did visibly beneath her coat and then--
Memory-Celestia’s eyes went wild. Twilight’s nostrils flared as she watched memory-Celestia’s feathers splay and frazzle -- she had never seen Celestia lose her nerve in such a way, not even when she was frightened, Celestia wasn’t supposed to ever get so scared, she was always calm in these situations and--
“No,” came the warble from the screen. It echoed in Twilight’s ears in time with the blood rushing past her eardrums in a sick beat. She sat there, confused and scared, as memory-Celestia snapped her neck towards Ponyville, her throat spasming as she just barely choked out the words, “No. Not yet. Twilight, please.”
There was another vibration, this one dripping with dread. If the wave of energy that rode it held a physical form it would be oozing with ichor and smelling of sweat. As it was there was a sound, just barely caught in the breeze: a scream, perhaps. Or maybe crying.
Memory-Celestia ambled up on shaky hooves, her horn lit. She quickly cast a shield not unlike the one Shining had at his wedding, only on an impossibly bigger scale. In an instant the film of gold, think as traincar is long, stretched in front of Memory-Celestia as far as she could manage to make it, dyeing the entire vision before Twilight in amber-gold: around the two ponies in the present, the color danced off their coats and splashed to the forcefield holding them afloat. Twilight had to squint at the brightness of it.
Memory-Celestia lit her horn with a teleportation spell the same moment another wave of energy surged around Canterlot. Fast, impossibly fast, a haze of magic came with it - Memory-Celestia hesitated as all around her a creeping shadow pooled around buildings, between ponies milling about the castle grounds, in and out windows. In a moment the world was dark as if the sun had been snuffed out, and Memory-Celestia stood stock-still, frozen with fear as ponies began to scream before their voices were cut silent. She stood just long enough to see that her shield held fast; the magic collided with it with a searing hiss, buckling the shield and sending spiderweb cracks across its surface but not shattering it. As it impacted the shield, it just managed to clip Memory-Celestia’s side as her teleportation spell took hold. Right before she blinked from the world in a flash of brilliant light, that black magic curled around her side with such an awful noise it made Twilight’s teeth ache.
Then the screen faded to black. Twilight flung the screen away before it could repeat, then whipped her head to Celestia, who was lifting her wing from Twilight’s side and turning to show her other flank.
Her eyes were dull and glazed, a frown was on her face, one so very severe. Twilight hadn’t seen her face so harsh since their first meeting with Discord years ago. Then she ruffled her wings, drooped them low to graze the forcefield below them and…
Oh no.
Celestia was injured. Not just a cut or a scorch mark like Twilight was relatively used to seeing on her either. On her side, the one Celestia had previously tried to hide, there was a… rot. That was the only way Twilight could find to describe it. A purple-black rot, the color of a bruise, crawling down her entire side like an ivy choking the life from a tree. It pulsated and ebbed down Celestia’s blood vessels sickly, and…
“A-Are you okay?! P-Princess what was that? How did this happen?!” Twilight gasped out. She was going to say more, ask if there was anything she could do, but-
Celestia’s eyes were suddenly so cold.
“I didn’t want to scare you, Twilight, but I’m afraid there isn’t much time. Already this has all come too soon. I had hoped that we’d have hours, perhaps even days to discuss what’s about to happen in detail, but that cannot happen. My shield holds only for as long as I do, and before it breaks we must cast a spell to fix this. That magic you saw cannot be allowed to reach your friends in Ponyville.”
Twilight creaked her mouth open to ask more, ask anything. What was that? What do you mean by “only as long as I do”? What was happening? But she bit her tongue and held firm at Celestia’s expression.
“I wanted to show you this place, ensure that you knew how to navigate it, because it will aid you even when I can’t. I wish to cast a spell with you, Twilight. It will send you and your friends… far away from here, to a place where that magic you saw won’t be able to reach you, at least not for a very long time. When you get there, you should see a decorated dais, which you’ll stand upon and raise both the sun and moon.”
Twilight’s jaw went slack. Celestia only held up a wing.
“I want to explain everything, Twilight. Truly, I do. But I’m afraid I’ve used up too much time as it is. You’ll be able to teleport here whenever you need, study my history, and use that knowledge to learn the details when you are safe. Do you understand, Twilight?”
Twilight’s head was swimming. So much had already happened today, and everything was going too fast. Last night she’d gone to bed thinking that this morning would be beautiful and perfect, this afternoon she thought she’d broken her friends beyond repair, and now everything was being shoved at her and--
Twilight sighed. She had so many questions, she had no idea what was happening, but Celestia had at least given her this. And with the way the black marks running down Celestia’s side were pulsating… Okay. She needed to calm down, and focus, just as she had when Nightmare Moon came back, or when Discord was freed from stone. Right now, her comfort and curiosity didn’t matter. Equestria and the safety of her friends did.
Twilight gulped down the rising bile in her throat and licked her dry lips. She could find out the details later, and once she was reunited with her friends, she could surely do this with their support.
Hopefully.
“I… okay, Princess. What spell do I need to cast?”
Celestia smiled at her, knowing. Warm.
“The one you just learned moments ago, my student.”
Celestia watched as Twilight mulled it over, and she must have seen that spark as soon as it reached Twilight’s eyes. Starswirl’s spell? The one she was tasked with finishing?
“I… well, I don’t understand. Princess, as soon as I learned the ending to that spell, the Elements of Harmony brought me here. I thought I’d be using that to teleport to and from this realm, not… raise the sun and moon, apparently.”
“You would be partially correct. Normally, speaking the aria sends you directly here. Now that the Elements have opened the doorway for you, you shouldn’t even need their assistance to do so,” Celestia said. “However, this spell has two parts, one of which I’ll be providing. As you let your magic flow and speak the aria aloud, I’ll intertwine my magic with yours and complete the matrices. This will alter its use… if only once.”
Twilight nodded. She remembered another spell she’d mixed with Rarity once. Rarity’s natural gift was the ease of cast on her gem-finding spell, and Twilight used her talent in other unicorn magic to blend it with another which let a pony find gems with a strong natural aura to them. That spell could be used multiple times, however, and once Rarity was taught the second half she could easily cast both parts herself without the need of another pony’s help. For a spell to be strong enough that it required the use of more than one pony every time, and for it to only be able to be cast once despite one of those ponies being an alicorn… It was unheard of!
Twilight nickered and scuffed soundlessly at the ground. “I know we’re low on time, Princess, but if I may ask… where exactly are you sending my friends and I that it’d take so much energy? It must be far away from Equestria.”
“The teleportation is only one element, and the simplest. As for the bulk of the energy being used… I’m sorry, Twilight, but it’s all rather complicated. Normally you know I’d love to teach you its intricacies, but…”
“Of course. Sorry just, you know me and my curiosity for magic,” Twilight laughed. “I will enjoy studying it later, though, won’t I?”
Celestia smiled again, but Twilight couldn’t help but notice that it seemed off. Normally Celestia’s smiles were so serene, warm and regal even if it was obvious it’d been practiced. This one… Twilight couldn’t help but think of Princess Celestia, her tears pooling at the corner of her lips as she hugged Luna for the first time in a thousand years. It was too sad to be completely happy. Almost guilty?
It was whisked away before she could think about it anymore. A frown steeled itself on the Princess’s muzzle. Her eyes glazed over and she parted her legs for stability as she prepared for the mental strain.
“Of course, Twilight. Now, this is, as you can imagine, a very complex spell, and while I will be weaving the matrices myself, you’ll still need to provide a good amount of power and focus. Whenever you’re ready, Twilight… just speak the aria.”
Twilight breathed deep. She wetted her lips, let that breath run into her lungs, then out once more through the nostrils. She followed Celestia’s example, planting her hooves firmly and closing her eyes. She could do this. For Equestria, and for her friends.
Twilight lit her horn. Normally while casting she would be focusing the energy flowing through her on a singular point or action, but at the Princess’s instruction she now let it run freely. Like a steadily flowing river her magic built up at her core, rattled up her spine, and tore at her horn in a tooth-aching buzz before pouring out into the world before her in a mighty wave. She could feel it against her rattling hooves, that wild pulse of manic and unfocused energy which pooled around them in a stagnant puddle. It set her mane whipping, her coat tingling, her whole body fighting against its very bounds of bone and flesh. Stagnant but rippling. A hoofbeat’s contact rippling through a pond, the exact second before the water was to splash. Untamed energy without purpose.
She gave it one.
“From all of us together, Together we’re friends...”
Celestia joined in the spell. Twilight felt as she did; her magic gripped Twilight’s, surrounded it so softly. Like a cradle, a friend’s warm embrace, it cocooned the magic echoing out around them and contained it. Along with the aria, song given ethereal form, they corralled it to a fine, invisible point. Twilight strained, her head nearly blowing back as she struggled to keep hold while Celestia and the aria manipulated the magic coming from her. It was a struggle to keep it all pouring out evenly as Princess Celestia and the words coming from her own mouth poked and prodded, stretched and formed as if the energy coming from her very being were nothing but putty, but a child’s plaything. It felt as if at any moment those invisible hooves guiding the magic would rip it out of her in a savage jerk and leave her a smoking husk of a pony.
It was something more to keep giving, and giving, and giving as the spell went on and on, continued to form into a tight, interwoven tangle of precise matrices. Strands of energy woven into an impossibly massive yet tiny orb of a spell. It was all she could do to keep speaking. Her heart was throbbing in her chest, and her lungs felt so dry.
“With the mark of our destinies made one...”
Casting the first part of this spell had just been so easy to cast on her own. Easy as breathing and moving a quill back and forth across the page. This…
Twilight’s body was shivering. In her mind’s eye she was no longer a pony but a shambling bundle of nerves starting to fray at the edges. Her body was nothing but the pages of that book she had written in, paper and ink, spilled over and soaked with water. Sopping wet and falling apart, that paper was tearing and at any second would slough apart. The ink would wash away and leave her nothing. Her horn was vibrating so hard she felt the aftershocks to the dock of her tail. She thought it would explode, or at least chip, but she ignored it.
Across the backs of her eyelids, spots danced in her vision. At first Twilight thought that she was passing out, and these were the death-knells of her consciousness. But then they got closer. Instead of black splotches come to whisk her away into the ether, she found they were actually colorful. Cutie Marks. Against her closed eyes she saw her own six-pointed star, Celestia’s sun… and then, in a blink of color that shot across her body in a crack of pain, her friends’ joined as well. All of them ebbed and flowed before her, swirling around one another in time with the churning of bile in her stomach.
Celestia’s mark glowed the brightest. Even though Twilight’s grip on reality faded as she stared at the Cutie Marks before her, as the spell being yanked and manipulated from her threatened to become an afterthought, Princess Celestia’s magic continued to move. Continued to hold her steady.
Twilight’s breath was nearly gone, but she forced herself to keep choking out the words.
“There is magic without end.”
The marks floating around Twilight all lit up in a shower of effervescent light. They pulsed bright, then brighter and brighter, until their colors were blown out and Twilight could barely make out their designs through the fog. Celestia’s cutie mark started to pulse, then. In time with the weaving of the spell, it flashed. First just as bright as the other marks, but then… it started to fade. It was subtle, but Twilight could see it.
Somewhere far away, through the buzzing of Twilight’s ears and the pain wracking her tiny frame and the visions dancing in her brain, the spell sank in on itself. Celestia’s warm touch of magic pushed against it, pressed it tighter and tighter until it might rupture -- and then it pooled in. Celestia began pouring all of her magic into the spell, in a crashing tsunami Twilight could barely comprehend. At this point her body had gone completely numb. She didn’t know if she was even standing up anymore.
As more and more of Celestia’s magic rushed into the spell, the larger it got, and the dimmer that sun cutie mark grew. It waned in increments, in waves, and as it did the other cutie marks responded in time. They grew impossibly brighter, and started to lift. They rose in that impossible space, floating up like balloons on the wind.
Somewhere, Twilight felt a change. Her physical body, though numb, felt an impossible lightness. A tug and a shift, then a rush. The only thing Twilight could compare it to was that adrenaline of a freefall, when all of your organs lifted within your body and you were falling there in that endless blue sky. Though Twilight’s magic continued to flow, her physical body seemed to ebb and wane with the marks before her - almost like an incomplete teleportation, but purposeful.
She rocketed back.
One moment Twilight’s body was in that purgatory of liftoff, then she was flung backwards so hard she was sure that all her bones would break the moment she impacted something. Her vision, once filled with those marks, swam into a sickening abstract painting, a shifting ocean of color and light. If her body were still in the physical realm she would be vomiting. Maybe she was and didn’t know it.
Somewhere in that blurred tunnel she thought she saw clear images flit past. A pasture, a mountain, an image of a town. An emblem of a green flame, glowing bright as she and her friends’ cutie marks.
Then everything stopped.
Twilight went still. She thought she took a breath but wasn’t sure. Around her, that dizzying cloud of color went still, and revealed a plane of white. Just pure white, and the cutie marks, along with the green emblem she had seen, sitting idly in the nothingness.
There was a chill, somewhere. The smell of ichor.
Right in front of her, Celestia’s cutie mark laid cold and dim. Curled around its right side was that rot, so very black against its normal gold.
There was a scream. Celestia’s scream. The crash of what sounded like a botched spell, a rebound explosion.
Silence.
Twilight fell.
“Oof,” the ground beneath her grunted. It roiled and fidgeted, and something that felt like a horseshoe caressed Twilight’s cheek.
“Uh, Sugarcube,” the ground said. It felt suspiciously soft and warm. Around there was a chorus of groans that sounded a little too familiar. “Y’all okay there? Y’mind getting off ‘a me and telling us all what the hay is goin’ on?”
Then she woke up and spread her wings.