Meg about-faced and took off for the opposite bookshelf. “I thought we were done with these bucking time loops.”
Twilight groaned. “I know. Rescuing that minotaur from King Minos.”
“Using Smooze to eliminate all evidence of prior human occupation. That took months.” And not once had she found a living human, even a recently living human. At least now she knew why. And dealing with that unreformed draconequus… after that she finally understood what Twilight had to put up with.
“Except for that sole catacombs.”
Meg threw her head up in annoyance. “Of course. That one. So one day Daring Do would take our younger selves to it.”
“Getting friendly with Lauren Faust—remember her? That was a year of my life.”
Meg smirked. “At least we have the years to burn.”
“Guiding Celestia through her ascension.”
That stopped Meg dead in her tracks; Twilight was looking at her almost whimsically. “Sorry you couldn’t have been there,” Meg said.
“No,” Twilight uttered, shaking her head. “It wasn’t what Celestia remembered.”
All work stopped, all heads turned to the red-haired woman. Her presence had been expected; Meg had informed them earlier. Taking advantage of that conference business, Twilight had come up with a long-shot magic scan to perform on Faust, a long-shot as too many years had passed.
But who was “Nora?” None of the others seemed to know either, judging from their reactions. Yet… why is she looking straight at me?
In her gut a realization dawned. Another one? Twilight pointed at herself, saying, “Me?”
Faust edged closer, uncertain. “I’m sorry if I’ve mistaken you for someone else. You look just like her...” She came closer, intensely studying her. “Too much like her, given the years…”
With some trepidation, Twilight came around the table. Faust looked down at the skirt now revealed and her eyes fixated on the cutie mark Rarity had embossed upon it. “Huh. I always thought your voice was perfect for Twilight Sparkle.” Her gaze climbed up to meet Twilight’s eyes. “Yes… I can see it now. You’re Twilight; you always have been.”
Twilight grimaced. Another time loop. Of course there was. At least that long-time mystery was about to be solved. “I am Twilight,” she confirmed, “but I first became a human only a few days ago. The ‘Nora’ you knew must be my future self.”
Faust nodded. “Time travel. That explains why you haven’t aged a day. Should I keep my mouth shut?” she asked, shrugging. “You know, to stop reality from imploding? That’s why you were avoiding me in the first place, right?”
“It’s…” Twilight looked back. The others were staring at them. As in, not working. “My understanding of such things is much better now, but… look. We should have this conversation someplace less…” She looked back at the others. “…distracting. Do you have time to spare right now?”
“Sure? I’m here to talk to Meg about the convention and maybe to you anyway.”
Twilight looked over to Meg at her workstation. She stood up and walked over. “Where to?” Meg asked.
“Good question. But not here, so first we teleport.” Twilight changed back to an alicorn, eliciting a jerk from Faust. While she could do the teleport to the mine entrance as a human, she found it easier to do powerful spells when possessing a proper horn. “Ready?” she asked, looking at Faust.
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Just like going between realms?”
“Basically,” Meg said. “Just prepare to be disoriented. Or keep your eyes closed.”
Faust closed her eyes.
Twilight teleported.
“You can open them again,” Meg said.
Faust carefully opened her eyes and looked around the mine entrance. “Where are we?” she asked.
“Under Canterlot,” Meg said. “That converted cavern is part of an abandoned mine. Believe me, teleporting is preferable to walking here from there. Especially if you’re taller than a pony.”
Twilight took a few steps to the outside. “So now I need to decide where to hold the meeting. We’ll need a chariot regardless. I should be back in a few minutes.”
The alicorn spread her wings and took off.
It was only a minute before Faust made her way outside and looked around at the abandoned and decaying facilities looking out over a wild and forested, deep valley. “Leaving this place on foot doesn’t look like much of an option. How did they get the ore out of here? Have pegasi haul it out?”
Meg joined her on the wide ledge. “Don’t know. Could be. The city isn’t far, maybe a thousand feet up on the other side of the mountain.”
Faust looked at her. “You’ve flown it many times?”
Meg shrugged. “It’s sorta my daily commute. I live in Canterlot now.”
“But you still visit Ponyville?”
“Frequently. That’s where Twilight lives, in her castle.”
Faust scanned the skies. It was empty of pegasi, there being little reason for any to be this side of the mountain. “Where do you think we’ll go? I mean, what are the options?”
Meg couldn’t help but think she was still trying to wrap her mind around it all. “There are two, I’d say. Either in the palace above us, most likely in Celestia’s private tea room, or in her own castle in Ponyville. One is closer, obviously, but Ponyville isn’t that far away by chariot.”
“A chariot pulled by pegasi?”
“Yup.”
Another minute passed. “Maybe we could talk about the convention while we wait?” Faust asked.
“We could,” Meg said agreeably enough. “One decision you’ll have to make is whether to stay in Discordland’s hotel. There are mostly chaos-free floors, if that’s what you want, but if you’d rather stay in a perfectly sane hotel on the other side of the portal that can be arranged too.” Meg hesitated. “Not that I want to pressure you or anything, but Discord’s hotel is free and our funds are limited. But whatever you choose is fine.”
Faust stared up into the sky. “I’ll, uh, get back to you on that.”
“I quite understand. Maybe I can arrange for a tour if that’ll help you decide.”
Discord did not appear. Maybe his involvement was unnecessary. It’s not like the hotel was locked up or anything.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
An object appeared from around the mountain, high in the sky, preempting further conversation. It grew rapidly, revealing itself to be the pegasi-drawn chariot. It swung down to the far side of the valley and looped around to make a gentle landing on the ledge. Twilight leaped out and flew over to them.
The alicorn touched down in front of them. “We’ll be going to my castle in Ponyville. Please take a seat and we’ll depart.”
As they approached the chariot, Meg couldn’t help but notice how Faust looked at the two ceremonially armored Royal Guards hitched to the chariot. They did their best to ignore her attention, naturally. The door opened in Twilight’s magic, revealing a hastily installed bench seat suitable for humans. In they went and took seats. “You may depart,” Twilight commanded.
The guards took wing and began pulling the chariot. It lifted off the ground almost immediately under the influence of their pegasi magic. Slowly but steadily they picked up speed. Faust looked like she might have been having second thoughts. “Believe me,” Meg told her, “the ride will be a lot better than it looks.”
The guards looped around the valley to gain altitude. True to Meg’s prediction, the chariot remained level, not swaying in the least. “Magic, right?” Faust asked, her comfort level growing.
“That and training,” Twilight replied.
One loop was sufficient to leave the valley. Canterlot came into view.
And they were past it, veering off towards Ponyville and already shedding altitude.
Faust looked questioningly at Meg. “You’re staying human?”
“I don’t have to…” Her hand went to her pendant, then she considered she was sitting down on the hastily installed bench seat, and standing up didn’t seem like a good idea, and… “Maybe when we arrive.” She didn’t feel like testing the limits of the transformation magic.
As they got closer to Ponyville, a few pegasi could be seen out and about, curious yet keeping their distance. Perhaps fortunately Rainbow Dash wasn’t one of them; she would not have kept her distance. Faust kept her eyes on the approaching town, and particularly on the out-of-place castle on its outskirts.
That castle began to rapidly grow. Before long, the chariot touched down on the elevated patio and quickly came to a halt. Twilight opened the door and they all exited. She went to the guards up front. “You may return to Canterlot,” she told them.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The chariot departed. Twilight turned around and saw confusion on Faust’s face. “I can return you to the office building directly from here,” she explained.
“Okay,” she shrugged. “Works for me.”
Meg reached for her pendant, then changed her mind. “I won’t let you be the only human in this place,” she told Faust.
The other human looked her over. “I was wondering if it was really true, that you’ve become an alicorn.”
“It’s true. I took that picture myself—in Sugarcube Corner, if you were wondering. Just don’t believe everything you might have heard, especially from a certain senator’s mouth.”
Faust raised an eyebrow. “You might try getting your own side of the story out. Just saying.”
“Believe me, that thought has occurred to me. That picture and nothing else was Discord’s advice. It… let’s just say it had the desired impact.”
Faust threw up her hands. “No judgement from me. So, Twilight, taking us to your throne room?”
“Follow me,” Twilight said with a smile.
To Meg the path they took had become as familiar as the back of her hand. Through the wide doors into the interior, through a hallway, down a staircase, another hallway, and finally they were before the closed doors to the throne room. Those doors opened in Twilight’s magic.
“SURPRISE!!!”
A party cannon went off, showering them with confetti.
“WELCOME TO PONYVILLE!!!”
“Should’ve seen this coming a mile away,” Meg muttered.
Twilight was a bit annoyed. Faust was just bewildered.
Pinkie was at her cannon, of course. A table had been set up inside the circle of thrones, full of beverages and plated cake slices. The rest of the mane six—and Spike—were seated in their thrones wearing party hats and blowing party favors. But not for long. Rainbow Dash flew over and practically hovered in Faust’s face. “So who are you?” the pegasus asked.
Rarity was ready to die of embarrassment. “That was so uncouth, darling.”
Dash glared at Pinkie. “I just wanna know why it was so important we all had to be here to welcome somepony who obviously ain’t moving to Ponyville.” Her glare morphed into confusion at Meg. “And why aren’t you a pony?”
“Reasons,” Meg responded, then turned to Pinkie. “And let me guess. You had a feeling?”
Pinkie shrugged. “Yes?”
Meg gave Faust, who remained as still as a statue, a “see what I have to put up with” shrug.
Twilight rolled her eyes and entered the throne room. “Girls… this really isn’t a good time for this. I have matters to discuss with Lauren.”
“Matters like what?” asked Applejack.
Twilight bowed to the inevitable. “Let me get some human chairs first, okay?”
She got a nod in return, and she teleported.
Rarity cleared her throat. “I would say introductions are in order.”
“Yes,” Meg said, “yes, they are. This is Laura Faust, creator of that cartoon we all know and love. I’m sure you can guess what ‘matters’ Twilight has to discuss with her. And before any of you say anything…” Meg was staring at Rainbow Dash. “…she has absolutely no idea how that cartoon became a documentary.”
Applejack gave them the stink-eye. “A not entirely truthful documentary.”
“Not… deliberately,” Faust said, finally saying something. “I’m sorry, but a part of me still thinks this must be a dream, that there’s no way this can be real.”
The orange mare nodded once. “I believe you.”
“So—”
“Dash,” Meg interrupted. “just wait until Twilight returns, okay?”
A roll of the eyes. “Fine.”
Dash flew back to her throne. Once she was seated, Meg continued. “There’s been a development, and… it’s another time loop, and this one apparently involves Twilight… and Lauren.”
“Maybe there needs to be ‘time loop’ parties?”
Meg sighed. “No, Pinkie, there doesn’t.”
“You suuure?”
“I’m sure.”
Unfazed, the pink pony pranced over to the table she had set up inside the circle of thrones. “Well, this is still a ‘welcome to Ponyville’ party, so help yourselves!” She bore an impossibly big grin.
Meg swept a hand from Faust to the table. “You are the guest of honor at this party.” The other ponies—and baby dragon—left their thrones to help themselves to cake. “And you definitely want to try the cake. I think you’ll be impressed.”
Before the two humans could enter the circle, Twilight returned with two chairs in her magical grasp. Fortunately there was room to get around them once she had positioned them in the large gap between two of the thrones.
Twilight helped herself to some cake. “So,” Twilight began, “the matter at hoof. It appears that I will go back in time to interact with Lauren, here, and somehow cause the cartoon to take the form that it has. The question is, how?”
All eyes turned to Faust. “I don’t know,” she said, then took her first bite. “Wow. This really is good.”
Pinkie beamed. “Made it myself!”
Twilight continued after herself taking a bite. “From that I deduce that I never gave you any ideas, not about characters, settings, nor stories?”
She shook her head. “No, not really. I mean, sure, the subject came up now and then, but you had little input on scripts, artwork, or casting. You never met any of the people who were involved with those things. Yet… it can’t be a coincidence.”
“No,” Twilight said, head bowed in thought. “It can’t be.”
“This is sure a conundrum,” Rarity said.
“You must’ve used magic of some sort,” Meg said.
“I’m sure that’s true. I’ve come up with a spell to scan you for some trace of that spell, but after so many years… Even if you had been here the whole time it’d be difficult, never mind in a realm where magic decays.”
Faust sat down in one of the chairs Twilight had fetched. “Will I feel anything?”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Then go ahead.”
Twilight approached her. Her horn lit, then Faust started glowing. It lasted a few seconds. “Nothing.”
“What about objects?” she asked. “You had sculpted some incredibly lifelike sculptures of various ponies—it was a hobby of yours, or so you said—and you gifted them to us for inspiration.” She looked around at the assembled flesh-and-blood ponies. “And by lifelike I mean they looked like you all modeled for them.”
That got Twilight’s attention. “You wouldn’t happen to still have one, would you?”
“Yes?” Then her eyes lit up. “But wouldn’t any spell you’d cast on them be long gone?”
“Not if I put a big enough magic generator in them—or used an enchanted gemstone, for that matter. Whichever, it’s the best lead we’ve got.”
“I’ll get it to you as quickly as I can.”
Meg did not immediately return to the converted cavern. Something Faust had said got stuck in her mind. You might try getting your own side of the story out. It wasn’t like that photo was supposed to be the last word on the subject. Maybe it was time for the next step.
She went home and sent an email to Andrew. Being her de facto gatekeeper, he had been receiving requests for Meg interviews. He was now to accept one of them, on the condition that it had to be one-on-one—no talk shows—and the interview had to take place at Discordland. Might as well use it as an opportunity to promote that too.
The email also included a summary of her conversation with Faust—excluding anything having to do with time loops, naturally. They should arrange for all the guest of honors to tour the theme park’s hotel, so they could decide whether to stay there (for free) or stay in a human-run hotel on the other side of the portal. Wherever that turned out to be, thankfully that being a problem that was not Meg’s to solve.
Neither was this latest time loop her responsibility; this one was all on Twilight. It was still a mystery how “Nora” had inserted herself into Faust’s life—not because Faust didn’t know or had refused to tell, but because Twilight preferred remaining ignorant for the time being. She first wanted to inspect one of those life-like pony sculptures.
Maybe Discord’s phobia over knowing one’s future was contagious.
When Meg did return to the cavern late that afternoon, she saw dozens of copies of the magic casting device stacked up against a wall. On an adjacent wall, there were dozens of magic generators likewise stacked up. “Okay, what did I miss?”
Jerry walked over to her. “Well, first we got our prototype fully operational. Piece of cake once we got those notes.”
Meg waved her hand in a “please continue” gesture.
“Then Discord showed up and mass produced it.”
“Just snapped his claw,” Dianna said. “Surprisingly helpful. No drama at all.”
“Huh. Was Twilight here at the time?”
Dianna shook her head. “She hasn’t come back since you two left with Faust.”
“Wonder where she is. She ought to know about this.”
“What about Faust?”
“Twilight returned her to the office building directly from her castle. I take it Faust didn’t come back here—” All shook their heads. “—so I guess she left.” Meg checked the remaining walls. “So no mass production of drones?” Not that there was a suitable drone present for Discord to replicate.
Awkward looks were exchanged between her human co-workers. “About that…” Martin began. “It’s looking like it’d take too long to acquire them and figure out how to fly them in coordination.”
“Aren’t there light shows put on by drone swarms?” Meg asked.
“Yes… but those drones are too small to carry our payloads, and they’re not designed to handle strong winds. And the software is proprietary, and even if we could get our hands on it, it’s designed to work with the corresponding proprietary drones, which like I said are way too small.”
“There is an alternative,” Sunset said, joining the conversation. “Use pegasi. They don’t have to cast the spell, just carry the devices into position and push a button on command. Pegasi in the Royal Guard have the strength and training to handle the wind.”
“Assuming,” Meg said, “we don’t have to cancel the time dilation on the anomaly.” She looked towards the workstation Sunset had just come from, where Moondancer and Arcane Scroll were still present.
Arcane cleared his throat. “Our simulations say it would be optimal if we did, for the time dilation will slow down the corrective spell. It is not, however, necessary. It will just take longer.”
“How much longer? Discord can’t keep up the displacement for long.”
“We’re not sure. The error bars are large. It may take too long even if the dilation was terminated, or it may take little enough even if it wasn’t.”
Wonderful. “Well, if it shrinks the anomaly significantly, that would still count as a win.”
“It ought to,” Moondancer said.
“Then we just repeat the process as many times as necessary.” The pieces were all falling into place. All that was left were the Royal Guard, and that required a princess. It didn’t have to be Twilight. “I’ll take care of the Royal Guard. Let Twilight know if she shows up.”
Twilight reached the end of yet another ancient scroll. With a sigh, she rewound it; it was the decent thing to do. Not that anypony else would ever likely read it. Calling this section of the library highly restricted would be an understatement. She was undoubtably the first reader of these scrolls in centuries
Fruitless it was not. The magic needed for those sculptures she would give Faust in the past did seem to exist. Magic that would transmit ideas, images, and sounds to people in its area, and do so without them being aware of it. Magic that would be banned for obvious reasons, hence why she had to come to this venue.
She would have to confirm that these magics were being used—had been used—but how could they not? Only the fact that her future self already had used them permitted her to even consider their use. She told herself that one day there would be no more time loops. That day Pinkie could throw a party for.
Fortunately, this type of magic came in various levels of compulsion. She would use one of the weaker ones. It would even solve a long-standing mystery: Why did that cartoon have so many errors? Because, she could now see, the spell would only suggest, not impose. The creatives would be free to “improve” upon reality however they saw fit. Or, Twilight realized, perhaps the spell worked imperfectly on humans.
Regardless. The first four seasons of the cartoon will happen as all currently remembered it, and that’s what mattered. The spell would suggest actual Equestrian history, not the content of those cartoons, and yet that content would be created. Because the past was immutable.
Details remained to be worked out. There were nearly a hundred episodes. It wouldn’t do to flood all of them at once into their minds. And would it be better to segregate the details, so that only the writers got the words, the artists the images, and so on. Yet how could she ensure the correct sculptures went to the correct group?
Maybe she was overthinking it. They would, because it’d be a paradox otherwise. It may even become obvious once she studied a sculpture.
But then there was that first generation of My Little Pony, where their names first appeared. How that would be resolved was all too obvious, trivial in comparison.
Twilight opened up the next scroll. At least now she knew what to look for when she received the sculpture from Faust.
“How long?” Serrell asked, his eyes switching between Meg and Luna. When he didn’t get an immediate answer, he added, “It’s now growing over four feet an hour.”
Twilight’s time dilation spell could only do so much, as had become abundantly clear.
Luna looked to Meg.
Meg tried not to grimace. “Training is about to begin,” she said. The sixty Royal Guards had just been selected. “Say tomorrow afternoon, Discord willing?” And where was Twilight anyway? She was supposed to be at this meeting.
Serrell did grimace upon hearing the draconequus’ name. “I don’t know which is worse: announcing a time for the next displacement and it doesn’t happen, or doing the displacement without advanced notice.”
There was an unspoken third possibility, of course: the displacement happens, and the anomaly remained afterwards. “There is one small advantage to not warning everyone,” Meg said. “It means there won’t be a media circus when dozens of pegasi arrive.”
He rubbed his eyes. “Not wrong, but there are other considerations. I’ll have to sleep on it.”