//------------------------------// // Celestia // Story: Time and Time Again // by Kawa //------------------------------// “Meet me at the ruins of Everfree Castle at night.” The letter was short and to the point, with a telling image of a stylized sun as the only identifying mark. It had appeared all of a sudden in one of Jennie’s enchanted saddlebags – Vic’s side – as they were preparing to leave, and it scared the oats out of the cream unicorn reading it. Still, an order from the Princess was not to be ignored. If the order was so easy to execute, it was even less so. Nervously, Vic and Jennie strode into the former throne room, remnants of the battle between the Elements of Harmony and the Nightmare still scattered near the far end. Sitting casually on the throne was indeed Princess Celestia. But when Vic came close enough, he noticed that Celestia’s smile was not one of a nigh-immortal mare who just got her sister back after a thousand years, or one of a teacher proud of her most faithful and precious student who excellently did everything as planned in a sneaky gambit the likes of which Equestria hadn’t seen in that very same thousand years. If there was one word that perfectly applied to the solar diarch, it was “shrewd”. Perhaps even with some color qualifiers on the side. It was the smile of a melancholic nigh-immortal teacher, whose most faithful student and for all intents and purposes surrogate daughter was nearing the end of her tragically typically short life. And to Pyrrhic Victory, who was a stallion of detailed observation, that was as crystal clear as it was utterly confusing, especially since the mare in front of him was very clearly wearing her old royal regalia. It was a combination that made the two time travelers reel, though Jennie less so. She didn’t bother with details that subtle, but even she knew something was off about Celestia. “Pyrrhic Victory”, the princess spoke in her usual calm tones. Vic reeled some more. “Your highness?” he tried as he telekinetically pulled Jennie down with him in a bow. “I have the strangest feelings right now, and I believe you’re the pony to blame.” “How do you… huh… how do you figure?” Celestia stepped down from the throne and slowly walked over to the little ponies standing before her. “From the moment I returned from my temporary imprisonment, I’ve felt as if I knew of things yet to come. Ponies I’ve never seen, the world looking different in all sorts of ways… and the distinctively fresh memory of having one magnificent breakfast.” Vic turned his head in mild surprise and thought. “Also that of seeing a certain stylish cream-and-red unicorn and a pink bundle of repressed ADHD taking a nice walk into the forest and nearly tearing space-time what you would, I imagine, refer to as a ‘structurally superfluous new plot hole’.” Vic reeled for the third time that night. He totally would use such a term if he were feeling particularly wordy at the time. “But luckily for you, my little pony, I’ve a reasonable idea why all that is, and I can only hope it goes away when you do.” Something clicked in Vic’s mind. It was dulled by the surprise at first, but quickly snapped back to its usual degree of sharpness. The saddlebags! They were enchanted by Queen Celestia herself way back in the future (but not too far) and the letter had appeared inside without Jennie noticing. Within moments, Vic was hanging over Jennie’s back, his horn lit up like nopony’s business and vigorously scanning the bags. “You did more than just place a container enchantment on these bags, did you?” Celestia nodded. “That’s correct. It can also send and receive written messages, though there are a few simple criteria for you to keep in mind. Wouldn’t want to accidentally send your research notes over, wouldn’t you?” she elaborated with a wink at the end. “I am going to guess,” Vic slowly started, “that the reasonable idea you mentioned earlier… is that the presence of an object carrying your magical hoof print caused the Princess Celestia of the present to connect to the Queen Celestia of the future.” Celestia nodded. “That’s exactly what I had in mind, albeit more science-y.” “And your hope is that by the object not being in this moment in time, the memories of Future Queen Celestia will leave again, leaving just the regular Present Princess Celestia. Am I correct?” “That’s all I can really do, isn’t it? It was easy enough to repress the memories, though. I hardly even needed to pretend I wasn’t also my own future self.” “Must be something that comes with being more than two thousand years old,” Jennie said half-jokingly. “Ain’t that right, Tia?” “You and Pinkie must be the only ponies other than Luna and Twilight who could get away with calling me that. And Twilight doesn’t dare.” “Did you mean calling you Tia or calling you old?” Celestia glanced at Vic with a conspiring smile and leaned a little closer to Jennie’s face. “…Yes”, she whispered. Vic couldn’t help himself upon hearing such a textbook example of the Mathematicians’ Answer. He broke into a derpy grin and played a riff on an air guitar, which looked pretty damn daft considering his utter lack of digits. A moment later, he realized he was not only being very (relatively) chummy with a living goddess who could literally flash-fry him on a whim, it wasn’t even really his living goddess and yet at the same time she was! The mind boggles. Vic was out cold in two seconds. “Jennifer Allison Pie”, the solar deity called out. “Would you be so kind as to carry your partner back to your little camp? When you get back to the future tomorrow, you might want to consider sending word if you want to speak again. If all goes well, I’ll forget all I know right now of the future, but I’m sure future me will have no trouble remembering what happened here.” Jennie broke into a grin as Celestia placed the unconscious lump of unicorn on Jennie’s back. “Ten-four, Supreme Space Commander Ma’am!” she exclaimed, punching herself in the side of her head in a salute with too much of a flourish. “Ah! Your Heinie?” “Yes, my little pony?” “I guess you’ve got no choice about enchanting those saddlebags now”, Jennie remarked with another toothy grin. If he weren’t playing ragdoll at the time, Vic would’ve been proud at Jennie’s judo grip on ontological paradoxes. That was pure black belt material.