The quill moved over the parchment within the purple glow of magic, signing Princess Twilight Sparkle with a flourish. Floating both parchment and quill over to the waiting unicorn stallion, the reigning Princess of Equestria raised her head with a sigh. “There we are, Cover Page. One proclamation announcing our Royal congratulations to the Filly Guides troop who sold a record number of cookies this year.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “I still can’t believe how much I underestimated the number of decrees I would issue as reigning monarch, despite Celestia’s warnings. Do we have any more paperwork for today?”
Cover Page took the scroll in his own magic, rolling it briskly and tucking it into a stack on the portable desk beside him. “Of course, Your Majesty. As you’ve noted many times, a Princess’s work is never done.” He floated a pocket watch up and peered at its face. “However, the paperwork will have to wait. It’s just about time for sunset, Your Majesty.” He bowed his head, lifting the desk and its contents in his magic and floating them toward the side door to the throne room.
Twilight Sparkle rose from the throne, smiling. “Very well, Cover Page. You are done for the day. Please give my love to your family.” With that, her horn lit up and she teleported from the room.
High above the Throne Room, in the tallest tower of Canterlot Castle, the Princess reappeared within her private observatory. In the center of the room, atop an ornate pedestal, rested a beautiful amulet decorated with a sun and moon motif. Twilight smiled as she looked over the device once again in the light of the sun through the western window. Lighting her horn she gently floated it from its stand, activating the magical mechanism.
Outside the window, the sun slowly lowered itself toward the horizon, as it had every evening since Princess Twilight took responsibility for starting day and night.
Then it stopped.
Twilight was already lowering the amulet back to the pedestal when she noticed the change. Frowning, she looked back over her shoulder, seeing the moon already cresting the eastern horizon. The sun remained stubbornly at the edge of the sky, motionless. “That’s not right,” she said, floating the amulet over to her. The sun and moon icons, instead of cleanly trading the dominant position on its face, pushed up against each other with an ominous clicking noise.
She reached out with her magic, removing an ornate wrench from a drawer in the side of the pedestal. Fitting the tool to the back of the device she turned it carefully, just far enough to reset the mechanism within. Sure enough, the sun soon started lowering again and the night started, only a few moments behind schedule.
“That was strange. I’ve never had to reset the amulet since that first attempt to use it, years ago.” She floated both amulet and wrench to their proper places. “Maybe it was just a fluke.” With a last glance to ensure the moon was moving in the sky and the sun remained down, she teleported away to her private library.
Sunburst peered through a jeweler’s glass at the intricate mechanism, the yellow glow of his horn carefully cradling the open amulet. “I’m still not entirely sure what you think I can do that you or your court wizards can’t, Princess.” He closed the cover of the device, securing it in place. “Every piece of the amulet is working precisely as it was intended.” He floated it back to its pedestal.
Princess Twilight paced around the observatory while he worked, stopping when Sunburst gave his diagnosis. “Sunburst, you helped Princess Celestia and Princess Luna to design and build the amulet in the first place. If anypony could figure out why it’s suddenly not working correctly, it would be you.”
Sunburst tucked the jeweler’s glass under his cloak, producing a cloth and cleaning his glasses. A slight blush colored his cheeks at her words. “I’m flattered by that, Twilight, I really am. But it’s clear that whatever is happening to stop the sun and moon from moving isn’t something with the amulet.” He positioned his glasses on his nose again. “You say it’s happening more often?”
Twilight nodded, walking to the window to peer out at the midday sun. “Every dawn and dusk for the last three weeks either the sun or the moon has just stopped moving. This morning it was both of them! Resetting the amulet has worked each time, but it’s taking longer after the reset to get them moving again. That’s why I thought it might be a problem with the device.”
Sunburst shook his head slowly. “I think we can conclusively rule that out at this point. I’m assuming that nothing has changed with how you’re using the amulet, as well.”
Twilight looked back at him, her perpetually-flowing mane falling forward over her shoulder, and raised a brow.
He bowed his head slightly. “I’m sure you would agree, Princess, to determine the cause of this problem we have to consider all of the elements of the process, no matter how unlikely they are to be the issue.”
She sighed, nodding. “Of course, Sunburst. I’ve considered it myself, that I might be the cause of it.” Stepping back to the pedestal, she peered down at the amulet. “I’ve reviewed every step of the process, from start to finish. I’ve even had my personal physician check my horn to make sure my magic is flowing properly. Every aspect of the process is exactly as I’ve done it for years since my coronation.”
“In that case, we may need to look for external factors.” Sunburst produced a scroll of parchment from under his cloak. “When you contacted me, I took the liberty of drawing up a list of known magical phenomena that could possibly interfere with the process of raising the sun and the moon. It isn’t a long list, as you might imagine.” He floated the parchment over to the Princess.
Twilight took the parchment, reading over the list as she spoke. “I had the same thought, and my list looks very much like yours.” She lowered it out of her field of vision. “I’ve had teams of wizards checking on each of these options. Every report comes back negative.”
Sunburst peered up at the sun through the stained glass of the more decorative windows in the observatory. “I’m afraid that brings us one last possibility. Maybe there is a problem with the sun and the moon themselves. I’m just not sure how we could even check on that.”
She shook her head, stepping away from Sunburst. “How could that even happen? The sun and the moon are, well, the sun and the moon! They are unchanging and constant. It’s not scientifically possible.”
He smiled a little, adjusting his glasses with his magic. “Once you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable-”
“Must be the truth,” Twilight said, finishing the quote. “You’re right, Sunburst. We have to stay open to even the improbable as a potential cause. I just don’t know how we would even test that theory.”
“With respect, Twilight,” said Sunburst, “your knowledge far exceeds mine about celestial bodies. In fact, I can’t think of a wizard in Equestria with more experience in this area.” He looked back at the sun behind the stained glass. “I’d even say that, of all ponies, there are only two possessing more knowledge and experience with the sun and moon.” He raised a hoof to gesture to the large windows above them, depicting Princesses Celestia and Luna moving the sun and the moon, respectively.
Princess Twilight smiled, the answer staring her in the muzzle. “Thank you, Sunburst.” She stepped close and drew him into a gentle hug. “I’ll take it from here. Give Starlight my love when you get back to Ponyville.”
“Of course, Twilight.” He returned the hug, then stepped back and bowed a bit more formally. “I’m honored you asked for my aid.” With that he turned to the door, stepping through as a guard held it open.
Twilight looked between the windows once more, drawing a deep breath. “It looks like I have some old friends to visit.”