//------------------------------// // Chapter Three // Story: The Architect's Wings // by mushroompone //------------------------------// “Ooh, this is so exciting!” Pinkie squealed. She kicked her rear hooves wildly even as she gripped the seat’s straps in her forehooves. “I thought I’d just be kicking rocks around on lame old Aurora, but I actually get to be one of the first ponies on a whole new planet! That’s totally crazy!” “Ugh, can we loosen these straps at all?” Rainbow whined. “I feel like I’m in a straitjacket.” “Girls, please,” Rarity scolded. “There’s a lot of work that needs to be done before either of you can start kicking rocks about and flying circles ‘round the asteroid. Until then, we’d very much appreciate it if you stayed still and patient.” Pinkie beamed, eyes squeezed shut, hooves still swinging at an unnatural speed. Rainbow went limp in her straps. She looked rather like a tangled-up marionette. Satisfied with the state of the backseat, Rarity’s focus returned to her mentor. Twilight was quiet. She stared out the front window with an empty sort of bliss; not exactly happy, and not sad in a way that Rarity could identify. On the bright side, she seemed unbothered by the squabbling behind them. "I feel like now is a good time to remind you that I, erm…” Rarity paused to clear her throat. “I’ve never moved a planet before," she whispered, tense and with an edge of nervous terror. “You won’t need to,” Twilight said, eyes still focused ahead. “In fact, you probably can’t—it takes a lot of magical strength.” “And you’re saying a lady can’t be strong?” Twilight arched a brow in her student’s direction. “Are you going to deflect everything I say with that?” Rarity squirmed in her seat. “No. Of course not. A lady would never.” Twilight rolled her eyes, despite the clear twinkle of suppressed laughter glimmering in them. “I’m going to move the planets," she said firmly. "You’re just going to follow along with me. Okay?” “What do you mean?” Rarity asked, tugging at her own straps. “Well… think of it like tracing, I guess,” Twilight explained. “I’ll be doing the heavy lifting by actually drawing the lines, and you’ll just let your magic follow along with them. I’ll talk you through it, too. Don’t worry.” Rarity took a long and steadying breath, then nodded. The ship wasn’t the finest piece of machinery Rarity had ever ridden in, though it was far from the worst. It didn’t rattle, exactly, but the engine seemed to produce a low and constant whimper that could be heard when all else in the cabin ceased. The sound of immense effort, of machinery working as hard as it could, of energy being pushed to its limit. It also smelled a bit in here. Like what, Rarity could not identify. It put her in mind of an empty convenience store, though none of the scents were the least bit similar. The whole ship was warm, all the metal and polymer and epoxy outgassing little wisps of industrial smell, though it was also unmistakably organic. Not just a machine, but an old machine. A used machine. "Can I ask a question?" Pinkie said. "You just did," Rainbow teased, poking her in the ribs. "Can I ask another?" "You just—" "Rainbow," Rarity warned. Rainbow snickered. "Sorry." "I was just wondering… well, why can't you just grab the asteroid?" Pinkie asked. "Why do we need to do all the other stuff?" Rarity looked to Twilight, as if she might have the answer. Twilight shook her head. "You're the mastermind, Rarity." The mastermind. "It's about momentum," Rarity explained, fighting a smile. "The planets are still. Heavy, but still. This asteroid is traveling something like ten miles every second." Pinkie's eyes grew wide. Twilight spared her a quick glance, then laughed wryly.  Rarity did her best to quell her enthusiasm. "It's like the difference between kicking a bottle cap and catching a bullet," she said. "But the asteroid is moving about twenty times faster than that." Pinkie winced. "Ohhh." "So," Rarity said, pulling her mane from her eyes, "we're going to let the planets lend us a helping hoof. It's only fair. Twilight may be an Architect, but she's bound by the laws of physics just like the rest of us." Twilight cast Rarity a sideways glance. "Thanks for that." Rarity only smirked in return. And then the ship came out from the shadow of the gas giant before it, and its passengers saw the sun in all its glory. “Whoa…” Rainbow breathed. Twilight sucked in a small breath. “Well. I suppose now’s a good time to welcome everyone to the Solaris system,” she said. “We’ll be here a while, after all.” Rarity was utterly speechless. The star which blazed before them, thankfully dulled by the ship’s treated glass, was nothing short of magnificent. An enormous glowing ball of pure light and energy, warming its planets with care, even as they hung still and lifeless in space. As the ship made its slow and puttering way around the planet before them, Rarity felt the sudden hugeness of the universe around her. The journey to Aurora had been different. That had been bells and whistles, enormous ships, an arrival on a planet that had already been partially colonized. It had been a show of the power ponies held over the universe. Their ability to set it all in motion, their duty to spread to the stars and make these empty places theirs. This was… this wasn’t theirs. This didn’t belong to anyone. Not even to the star. This was limitless stillness. This was untouched by mare. This was the future. Rarity’s breath hitched.  “Are you alright?” Twilight asked softly. “I know it’s… it can be overwhelming.” Rarity let out a strained breath. “I don’t think ‘overwhelming’ even begins to describe it,” she replied. “And you’re… you’re going to move them?” Twilight smirked. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” How could it not? “Alright, everypony,” Twilight called into the back. “We’re on our final approach. It’s gonna get a little warmer in here once we really close in on the sun. Then we’re gonna need to really get moving, so please, please be ready to take the controls when we say so. Until then, keep those seatbelts on.” Pinkie saluted. “Aye-aye, captain!” Rainbow, looking pale, cinched her straps in a little tighter. Twilight focused ahead once more, the light of the approaching sun glittering in her dark eyes. A bright tendril of magic oozed from the top of her horn, heavy under the weight of its own power, and hung in the air before Rarity’s face. “Just hold on to me,” Twilight said. “And I’ll show you how it works. Okay?” Rarity swallowed hard. “A-alright.” She shivered as she pushed a small tendril of her own magic from her horn. Much in the way the sun dwarfed their tiny ship, Rarity felt limitlessly out of her depth compared to the sheer weight and power of Twilight's magic. She could feel it. "Don't be scared," Twilight murmured. "You can do this." Rarity clenched her jaw and nodded. She reached her magic out to join with Twilight's. In dreams sometimes there is a feeling of being two places at once. One can be in their own bedroom, yet at the same time in a department store from their childhood, and even still in their college science lab. It is all one place, only one setting, and yet it is all of these things at once. This is what it felt like to join another's magic. It was to be in two places at once, and yet only one. Rarity silently thanked her lucky stars that she and Twilight were sitting right beside one another. Had the distance been any greater, she had absolutely no idea how disconcerting and disorienting the experience may have been. "That's perfect," Twilight said, but it was Rarity's mouth, but it was both their mouths, but it was neither. "Hold on tightly." "I'll try," Rarity replied. The magic passed through the front window, like a pin through a soap bubble, and pierced the endless dark stillness beyond. Space was cold. Rarity knew that somewhere, but she had never felt it like this. Every hair on her body stood at a shivering attention as Twilight danced effortlessly through the vacuum which yawned before them. The magical limb reached out through the darkness, lighting the way with a dim and otherworldly glow that was swiftly overtaken by the sheer power of the sun. Nonetheless, Twilight wrapped her magic around the planet closest to the star in a great swirl, a bit like the spiraling whorls of an ice cream cone.  She pulled it. It was not without effort—Rarity could feel the way Twilight strained against the weight and size of the planet, her jaw clenching, her eyes shuddering as she held them shut in sheer concentration. But she did it anyway. Twilight pulled the planet and then, like it was nothing, she threw it into orbit like a pitcher throwing out a curveball. Rarity felt a gasp escape her. Escape both of them. The planet moved slowly, but big things that move slowly are still horrors to behold. A behemoth moving at all is enough to make one want to turn tail and run away, and this massive hunk of rock, boiling at its core, was careening through empty space with nothing to stop it. Despite it all, the planet fell quickly into a tight elliptical orbit around the sun, Solaris, and seemed content to stay that way. "See?" Twilight said, admiring her work. "It's nothing, really." "Nothing?!" Rainbow Dash cried. "Nothing?!" "It's so much bigger than I thought!" Pinkie added. "Like… like so much bigger!" Twilight chuckled. Rarity chuckled, too. She wasn't sure if it was her own, but she decided she would have it anyway. "Alright, crew," Twilight said, looking over her shoulder at the ponies in the back. "We've got to get this finished quickly. Rainbow, I'd like you on controls. Pinkie, you're navigating." "Sure," Rainbow said as she unclasped her belt. "I think legally I have to tell you that I'm not at all licensed to fly this thing." Twilight chuckled again. "I'm sure you'll do fine. It's just like a video game." Rainbow scoffed. "What makes you think I play video games?" she asked. "I don't." "You do, too!" Pinkie added helpfully. "Just last week she beat the high score on the Crosswind cabinet in our student lounge!" "Pinkie!" The conversation barely reached Rarity as she reeled from the sudden meshing of two entirely different perspectives. She was looking at her friends, she was looking at the start of a new solar system, she was looking at both, she was looking at neither—she just closed her eyes and waited for it to stop. "Quickly, girls!" Twilight instructed. And without another word, the mares sprang into action. "Take us to the next planet out," Twilight said. She stepped away from the controls, one strong hoof wrapped around the back of Rarity's neck and pulling her close. "It's smaller and rockier, known as Solaris II. Pinkie, the nav system is on the right side of the dashboard." Rarity stumbled a bit, eyes still squeezed shut. "Are you okay?" Twilight asked Rarity set her jaw and nodded. "I could do with a little less seasickness, though," she admitted. "I know 'eyes on the horizon' isn't much use around here, but…" "Of course," Twilight said. "Let's do the next one. There's only three in the system. If it gets to be too much, just let go, okay?" "Okay," was what Rarity said. "Not a chance," was what she thought. Twilight's magic lassoed the next planet as Pinkie and Rainbow took them in close. The ship eased off to one side, taking in a magnificent turn similar to the planet's final orbit. "On my count, peel off!" Twilight instructed. "You got it," Rainbow confirmed. Twilight dug in her hooves (as much as is possible on metal grate) and solidified her magic. The ship felt this one; a sudden towing weight of a few thousand tons caused the craft to lurch and the insistent moaning of the engine to grow that much more demanding. "One!" Twilight said. "Speed it up!" Rainbow threw the craft up to full speed, ,just barely countering the oversized paperweight being tugged along behind them. "Two!" Twilight called. Her magic clamped down even harder as she prepared for the final move. Only when she began to hurl the planet forward did Twilight shout "Three!" and send the passengers careening to one side as the ship veered away from the sun. Twilight released the planet. It, too, fell in orbit, and was even staggered beautifully from the one leading it. A perfect gravity net to catch the incoming asteroid and pull it into its new home. The craft went sailing back into the stillness as Rainbow Dash yanked them all out of the way of the rapidly-approaching planet. Twilight, foreseeing this disruption, expertly held her ground. It was beginning to feel different. Rarity noticed that. A sort of humming that was not coming from the spaceship, and not even from Twilight’s magic. It was a warm feeling, revving up, filling the emptiness with an indescribable and certain something—gifting energy into the cold, still universe. It was coming to life. “Last one,” Twilight said. “Take us out to Solaris III. It’s a ways away from the sun, but we need to be quick.” “Got it: step on it!” Rainbow interpreted, throwing the ship forward into its highest speed. Twilight turned to Rarity, ducking her head to look her more closely in the eye. “How does it feel?” she asked. Rarity laughed incredulously. “As if I could ever explain!” “But you’re starting to understand now, right? How gravity feels?” she continued. “In the grand scheme of things, I mean.” “I-I… suppose so,” Rarity said. “Good.” Twilight gave her old friend a proud and encouraging smile. “Because I want you to guide me for Solaris III.” Rarity’s heart stopped. She stared, silent and terrified to her core, as Twilight waited patiently for an answer. “Uh… we’re getting close!” Pinkie warned from the co-pilot’s seat. “Isn’t it far too soon?” Rarity hissed. And she was looking at herself when she said it. Looking at the fear in her own eyes, like arguing with a mirror. “Maybe,” Twilight said. “But if you don’t take this chance, it’ll be too late to try.” Rarity swallowed hard. She looked at Twilight. At herself. At both and neither. At the persistent orange glow of the sun reflecting off Solaris III and brightening their eyes. “If I make a mistake—” “I’ll be right there to catch it, okay?” Twilight reminded her. She put a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder. A hoof on her own shoulder. On both and neither. Rarity drew in a deep breath, doing her best to ignore the rattle she felt in her core, and nodded. “Alright. I’ll try.” “You can do this,” Twilight said. “Trust your instincts. Remember the way it feels to enter a planet’s gravity—that sudden heaviness, the way it pulls your chest down and grounds you. You know how that feels.” “R-right…” Rarity stuttered. She closed her eyes, deciding to rely on Twilight’s unshaking gaze to guide her magic, and anchored herself between the seats in the front of the ship. “You got this, Rares,” Rainbow encouraged. “It’s just like playing buckball!” Pinkie said. “Or… at least, I think it is!” Rarity pressed forward into the depths of space. Her magic curled through the cosmos, Twilight’s in tow, and approached the last planet in the system. It was only then that she realized Twilight had saved the best for last—an absolutely massive planet that more than dwarfed the two before it, coated in a thick layer of mist which even Rarity could sense would not be safe to breathe. She cowered before it. Only slightly. A hiccup, really. “You can do this,” Twilight said. “Stay focused.” Focus. Rarity sucked in a small breath and plunged forward, swirling the cocktail of magic around the massive planet before them with as much grace as she could muster. Though she trembled slightly with the effort, she wound her way over and through the gasses which enclosed the behemoth, wrapping it in a net of magical threads. Focus. With her hooves planted firmly between the chairs at the front, Rarity gave the planet an experimental tug. Twilight may have been doing the heavy lifting, but she could still feel it. The weight of it. The similar pull of gravity dragging it in towards the sun. Focus. She could sense what she needed to do. Not quite innately, but insistently. The same way one knows how hard to press down on a pencil, or the feel of an apple splitting under one's teeth. She just knew. She knew the weight of it. The way it moved and flowed. Like fabric Like fine silk. Focus! Rarity held Solaris III in her own hooves, in Twilight's hooves, in both and neither. She slowly but surely accelerated it, faster and faster, more and more momentum, until it caught. It locked. It held with the strength of the sun and the other planets in a beautiful and perpetual dance. "That's it!" Twilight encouraged, genuine excitement blooming in her voice. "Now let it go! It's home!" For some reason, letting go was the hardest part.  But Rarity's magic pulled away. Twilight pulled away from her. And, just like that, Rarity was back in her body, back on the ship, back to being small and scared and powerless. Her hooves buckled, no longer keeping her steadily in place, and she floated up from the floor of the ship. Weightless and loose in the universe. Exposed. Able to drift up and up and up and away. "You did it!" Twilight cried. Rarity, with what little energy she had left, scoffed. "You did it." "Rarity, I gave you power," Twilight said. "You gave me precision! Technique!" Rarity blushed. Twilight reached over to grab Rarity's hoof. Her smile softened from one of sudden joy and elation to something warmer, something kinder and gentler. "You're an artist," she said. "I can feel it." Before Rarity could push past her fluster to reply, Rainbow Dash cleared her throat. "Hey, I hate to break up a nice moment, but we've got some more work to do," she said. "When exactly does the asteroid get here?" Twilight released Rarity's hoof, and the emptiness swept over her again. "Soon," Twilight said, swimming forward through the ship and gazing out the front window. "It should be on the nav." Pinkie looked surprised at that, then quickly zoomed out on her navigation display. "Hey, would you look at that! Asteroid!" Twilight pushed herself forward through the vessel and hung weightless between Rainbow and Pinkie, staring out into the only darkness beyond the ship. She did so without speaking, and soon the ship was entirely silent but for the insistent hum of the engine and the rhythmic ping of the nav system. Ping. Ping. Ping. In the distance, a flash of light. Ping. Ping. Ping. Twilight craned her neck further. She squinted, eyes focused steadfastly ahead, watching for the asteroid. Ping. Ping. Ping. Rarity was surprised that she felt the asteroid before she saw it. Even Twilight's wings reflexively puffed away from her sides as a much larger, much stronger force of energy drifted into the system. Then they saw it. It was oblong. Like a pill. It was made up of craggy little outcroppings of rock, black and brown and a revolting combination of the two. And yet it was the most beautiful thing Rarity had ever seen. "There it is," Twilight said, as if the rest of the ship weren't staring slack-jawed at it already. Rarity could only nod. Twilight looked back at her and, in as gentle a voice as she could muster, she said, "I'll handle this part, okay?" Rarity nodded again  "Rainbow?" Rainbow startled in her seat. "Mm?" "Take us in towards the asteroid," Twilight instructed. "We'll need to be traveling alongside it as it goes by." "Can do," Rainbow replied. The ship lurched forward, suddenly driven again by more than just the memory of its thrusters. Rainbow piloted the thing in a perfect curve, closing the distance between the ship and the asteroid in moments. It felt stronger up close. Rarity tried to focus on what happened next, but truthfully she couldn't take her eyes off the massive rock which hurtled through space before her. There was a long, strong, magical tentacle reaching out at it. Grabbing hold of it. Guiding it the way one might guide a sailboat by turning the rudder. Just as much at the mercy of the wind as you were before, but with that secret taste of control. And then it was flying! Out of Twilight's grasp and deep into the sun's orbit, buried there where it could not escape, carried by gravities much stronger than it could ever hope to have. It was there. It had made it. Rarity felt a weight lift from her chest, strange as that felt to say as she drifted through the cockpit of a zero-gravity spaceship. It had worked. Not just theoretically, not just in perfect conditions, in real conditions. In real life. Here. Now. A sound escaped Rarity. A happy sob of pure relief and elation as the Solaris system truly took form before her. That energy spun up and up and up, whirring, bleeding out into the universe, watching over the ship. Pinkie threw her hooves in the air and cheered. "You did it!" she cried. "Yay, asteroid!" "Heck yeah!" Rainbow agreed, punching the roof of the ship.  Twilight, however, was quiet. She looked out of the window, smiling softly and… well, Rarity thought she sensed sadness. Or perhaps a distance—a wistfulness which went beyond the planets, beyond what Twilight’s eyes could see. A realization that had nothing at all to do with the magnificent view before her. “Twilight?” Rarity whispered. “Did we make a mistake?” She blinked. A few times, and very quickly. Then she looked down at Rarity and smiled again. The same sad and distant smile. “Not even one,” she said. Rarity laughed, light and airy, if only because there was nothing else she could do. “Good.” “Should we take her in, Captain?” Pinkie asked, her mouth wide in an overexaggerated grin as she looked back over the seat. Twilight hesitated for a long moment. Then, with a single snort, she broke out of her plaintive silence. “I’m not a Captain, Pinkie.” “Then who—” “Me!” Rainbow decided. She once again shifted the tiny craft into a much higher speed and sent it barrelling towards the asteroid, even as it rattled and shook itself to pieces beneath them. That humming sound built and built, wound up and up and up with the energy of the system, with the power of their combined magic, and with the possibilities which lay ahead of them on the planet. On their planet. “It needs a name,” Rarity realized. “Goodness. I hadn’t even thought about it.” “Ooh!” Pinkie twisted around in her seat and peered over the headrest. “Naming things is so fun!” “Well, Solaris Naught is the obvious voice,” Twilight said. “If we follow the naming convention of the rest of the—” Rainbow blew a raspberry. “No way. That’s super lame.” Twilight’s mouth drew into a small, taut line, but she did not rebut her new crew member. “You should totally name it after yourself!” Pinkie suggested. “Rare… Raria? Is that it?” “Sounds like a disease,” Rainbow commented. “Raribellia?” Pinkie amended. “Deadlier disease.” “Belarus?” Rainbow made a face. “That’s… no.” “What about Eventide?” Rarity suggested. Twilight gave her an odd look. “Uh… what’s that mean?” Rainbow asked. “Eventide,” Rarity repeated. “It’s another name for the time between night and day. A synonym for Twilight.” “Oh, pft.” Twilight waved her hoof dismissively. “No, no. You can’t name it after me.” “Who says I’m naming it after you?” Rarity said, a bit of her confidence returning. “Eventide is a lovely way to describe this place. It’s between science and art, between planet and space debris… it’s also about to be the furthest settled planet from Equus.” Twilight nodded slowly. “Between civilization and the great unknown.” Rarity allowed herself a small smile. “Precisely.” Twilight nodded again, looking not at her student but at the brand-new planet growing nearer in the front window. She tugged on a bit of her mane with one hoof. The starlight sparked and popped in her eyes. “Alright,” she said at last. “Rainbow?” “Yes, Captain?” “I’m not—” Twilight bit her tongue and shook away the imminent scolding. “Nevermind. Take us down to Eventide. We have work to do.”