//------------------------------// // Twelve Hours to Nothing // Story: Adventure // by ISKV //------------------------------// A yellow coated earth pony groaned as she lifted her head off of her lumpy pillow. Her room was painted a pleasant light green with matching curtains. Everything from the pictures to her bedsheets had flowers on them in some form or another. On the windowsill, a single flowerpot sat quietly as a ray of light shines brightly on her face. Marigold shook her head, sending her short bright red mane flying outwards as she stretched her whole body. "Good morning sun!" the earth pony cheerfully yelled as she steps out of bed. "Thank you for the life that- Aaah!" She screamed loudly when her flower came into view. The pony's eyes dampened as she slowly maked her way towards the flowerpot. The marigold that was once planted in the pot had transformed into a crunchy brown pile, almost indistinguishable from the dirt it was planted in. The earth pony shook her head in disbelief. "Oh no... My Su... MY SUNLIGHT DAWN! Oh Celestia Why!? Why!? WHY!? I'M SUCH A FAILUUURE!" Marigold sobbed as she gently lifted up the remains of her flower. It had been taken care of for longer than she remembered. She had planted countless flowers before, but this one was close enough to her that she had actually named it. It didn't help that her self-proclaimed reputation would be ruined if word got out that one of her plants had died. Sobbing, Marigold lifted up the pot and made her way downstairs. *** If anypony had been looking, it would've been quite the peculiar sight. A pony dressed in a black, complete with a veil burying a clump of dirt in her small backyard. Small clusters of grass dotted the empty patch of land. Though her specialty was in gardening, she could never make a lawn work. However, she always wanted a flower garden. If only she could ever find the money for it. Technically it was against community regulations, but she had yet to meet the lowly-paid officer that would go through hours of red tape for something as trivial as an imperfect backyard, something that would never happen in the richer areas of Canterlot. The poorer district was cleverly hidden away on the western side of the city while the areas where the sunrise or sunset could be seen were prime locations for the rich lords to build their massive mansions. However, this meant that her house would receive a substantial amount of sunlight, more than enough to grow a garden. Marigold silently wiped her eyes in defeat. "Sunlight Dawn..." she sadly sighed as the pony fondly remembered her flower and its unfortunate short life. "You were the best flower I ever had the pleasure of growing. I-I remember when you were just a teensy little seed. And-And when you sprouted, you... you... you were so cute! And-And when your bud..." The pony dropped her head as she let herself loose. Loud sobbing sounded as tears dripped from Marigold's eyes. By now she didn't care that her neighbors could hear, for all that mattered to her was her friend that ascended before she should've. *** Marigold sighed as she stared at the steaming cup of tea. The shock of finding her flower dead had scarred her harder than she had realized. She took a small sip of the green liquid. Along with its fresh taste, it soothed her nerves and calmed her heart. Her entire house was silent, even her clock had stopped ticking. Outside, a few leaves crackled as a gust of wind blew them along the street. The pony slowly turned her head until her eyes were looking out the window. Nothing. A cliche it might've been, but it was too quiet. The sun was up, yet the street in front of her house was empty. Nopony, not even the group of little foals that usually played around were present. The only time Canterlot could be considered calm was before the sun rose above the horizon. Marigold drowned the rest of her tea and quietly made her way to the door. The hinges squeaked slightly as she revealed the outside world. In front of her house, a bakery that made its reputation by selling doughnuts stood empty, the usual scent of chocolate and the bustle of patrons trying to squeeze in a quick meal missing from the street. None of the houses or stores seemed to be abandoned, simply empty, as if all of the ponies had left for work. Marigold looked up, and ran back into her house in panic. The sun was high in the sky and it didn't matter if there were no ponies about, for her job at the local flower shop still existed. The pony emerged with a key strung into a necklace and galloped away. Marigold remembered that she had an order for a few dozen corsages, and while no other florist could match her, even she would be working hard late in the day. *** While her obsession with flowers kept her friend number low, there were few ponies in Equestria could match her skill. If she wanted to, Marigold could've gone to any florist and have gotten the job. Unfortunately, Canterlot florists consisted of lines of workers assembling flowers to meet the demands of the ponies who both hosted and attended parties almost every other day. She couldn't take the machine-like workings and had run out crying. But to her luck, she had met Bloomer. Bloomer was an older mare who had a small flower shop on the market street. Business hadn't been good, but after a walk in the park, she saw a yellow and red mare weave a flower wreath like nothing she had ever seen. Marigold was behind the counter withing the hour. It was only a short distance away to the main marketplace of Canterlot. After peeking past the corner, Marigold nervously trotted out of an alleyway. Around her, merchant wagons and stalls quietly sat on the sides of the wide street without their owners. A few minutes later, she reached the floral shop. Bloomer's Buds Oddly, it was closed. Unlike the stores around it, the door was locked and the display was empty, but Marigold still happily sighed at the familiar sight. As she walked towards the shop, she wondered if Bloomer had some unforeseen emergency or business. Regardless, the pony recalled her words on opening the shop. The glass door is to be open at all times and the windows should be wiped clean inside and out before starting for the day. Bloomer's voice echoed clearly in her mind. Unlocking said door, Marigold jammed a wooden doorstop and gave it a hard kick for good measure. The inside of the shop was dark, but she kept the lights off to signal that they were not yet open. The pony filled a bucket with window wash and water from the sink off to the side, blue bubbles spilling over as she hefted the bucket and a rag outside. The task seemed to take forever. Inside her mind, Marigold knew that if it was quiet enough to hear the window squeaking every time a rag passed over it, something was wrong. But what would anypony else do... She though hard, but came up with no answer. Refill the buckets up to the- A scream echoed down the street. Inside, Marigold cried out in horror as she turned on the lights to discover the flower equivalent of a graveyard. Dry, brown pedals littered the floor as dead and wilted stems drooped from buckets. Her legs grew weak as she leaned on a stand and slowly slid down in disbelief. *** The distraught pony slowly walked through Canterlot, head low and eyes wet. With the store was locked up and a sign put out in front that apologized for an unexpected closure, Marigold had buried the flowers next to her own marigold. Another funeral took place for the second time. Her tears left a noticeable trail wherever she walked, more than once she found herself stepping on damp cobblestones. The flowers were her life. Her friends. Her responsibility. And she had failed that. Even a pegasus with their fast and impatient ways would have to expend effort to allow an entire shop's worth of flowers to die. With her eyes glued to the ground, Marigold eventually found herself at the entrance of the central park. But just the thought of her relaxing at her usual spot lifted her spirits somewhat. She closed her eyes, sighed, and stepped past the white marble fence. What she saw made her blood run cold. The trees were lifeless, their leaves fluttered off to who knows where. Marigold's eye twitched as she stared. The pony started to turn, but stopped when she noticed that the grass underneath her was a crunchy brown. Even the lake in the center was completely dry, cracks running down the dusty soil. Marigold raised her head and screamed towards the heavens. "WHAT GOD HAVE I WRONGED?" *** Canterlot burned. An extremely infuriated mare was currently carrying out a one pony rampage across the capital. For the last few days, she had managed to demolish an entire city block, toppled a few guard towers, and had set fire to the Equestrian Revenue Service building. Her rage had eventually led her to Canterlot Palace, which the mare was currently trying to gain entrance. A loud war cry sounded as an adrenaline-fueled florist charged the tall gates while pushing a cart as a makeshift battering ram. The heavy gates jumped as a heavy-duty steel wagon smashed into the reinforced wood. The pony backed up for another run. Finally after another few hundred hits, the locking mechanism fell with a resounding crash and Marigold threw away the battered cart. The pony came out of her madness as she stood in awe in the middle of main hallway. A massive crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, glittering a dim orange from the light of burning tax forms through the open gate. Various tapestries hung on the walls, some centuries old. Each told a story, some spoke of unmatched heroics, others commemorated great events. At the end was an awe-inspiring stairway. Chiseled from a solid chunk of marble, it separated into two thinner stairs that ascended in the opposite directions. On it was the most extravagant red carpet with intricate designs sewn in the border with gold thread. Walking with muffled hoofsteps, she climbed higher into the palace. She could always burn it down later. *** For the first time since this madness had started, Marigold was calm at last. She was probably one of the few ponies that never seen the inside of Canterlot Palace with her own eyes, even when she lived mere minutes away. Although it was somewhat customary to make the pilgrimage, Marigold was never one of the hundreds that visited every year. As she climbed the long winding staircase, the earth pony silently wished that she had made the decision earlier. The florist had begun her exploration from the highest astronomy tower. Overlooking the burning capital, the florist felt no guilt over destroying a good quarter of the city, and was in fact proud of her accomplishment. A telescope provided the pony with more details, but was otherwise useless in the bright daylight. Marigold climbed down to the dungeons. After swiping a ring of keys from a hook on the wall, the stone prisons were open to her amusement. Door after door were opened, most were empty, but some contained curious objects. Reaching the end of a hallway, she unlocked and pulled open a solid steel door to find the darkest secret in the palace. Inside was a rack where prisoners could be strapped in and "interrogated." Hanging from the walls were vicious-looking "persuasion tools" that specified what kind of pony they were to be used on. Everything from the black rings with thin chains welded onto them that forcibly controlled the flow of magic to the bloody feather yanking pliers to be used on pegasi. The florist slowly closed the door and tried to erase the image out of her mind. After sampling a few raspberry pastries from the kitchens, the sleepy pony settled herself in one of the guest suites. The delicate scent of flowers had lured her into the the large feather bed. Sinking into the mattress until she could be barely seen, it made her feel like she was floating on the most delicate of bubbles while the sheets were washed with the exact same brand of detergent that she used for her own laundry. The window was wide open, letting in the most comfortable breeze. Marigold's last thoughts before succumbing was wondering whether she was supposed to be the guest of honor. *** She floated in a dark void. She had no physical body, nor could she feel, pain, pleasure, or otherwise. But if she had to describe the void with a single word it would be... comfort. It was not the darkness of a freezing, alien forest at night, but the warm embrace of a blanket on a chilly fall day. Hello. "Wha- Who's there?" She recognized her own voice, yet was stunned by its pitch, tone, and volume as if she had never heard it before. I... am. "Yes... you are?" I am. I exist. In the void, that is all that matters, and all that will be. But to answer your question, I am the spirit that once occupied a body you called, Celestia. "P-Princess Celestia?!" Instinctively, Marigold tried to bow, but found herself unable to locate the source of the voice, or even her spine for that matter. Do not trouble yourself with such physical ranks. In the void we are equals. We are one spirit talking to another. We- "WAIT!" the florist yelled. "Am... Does this mean that I'm... dead?" A wave of pleasant feelings washed over her. It took her a second to realize that the being was laughing angelically. No. In fact, you are the only one that is "still around." "...Why? Why me? And why..." Marigold thought hard, but could not remember the day before she woke up alone. "What happened?" A sigh, and another wave passed through her, only this time it felt much more depressing. I... I do not know. I do not know why all the ponies are gone. Nor do I know why the plants are dead. I am just as clueless as you. "Then... why am I the only one still around?" My guess? Luck. Pure, undiluted, luck. "Great. I'm lucky." the florist spat. Do not lessen your worth Marigold, for a single pony can change everything. "How?" A small pinprick of light floated towards her. It stopped when it was close enough for her to closely examine. It was a translucent blue flower with red veins that ran down to the bottom of its cut stem. It had an overall rose-like appearance, but its petals were longer and wavier. The whole flower appeared much more fragile-looking due to its similarities to glass. This is a Celestite Flower. While it does not have any powers of its own, it can concentrate magic for use in powerful spells. Celestia has poured the last of her magic into the flowers and their seeds to allow you to travel back in time twelve hours before whatever event happened that caused the world to be in such a state, Time spells are very difficult, even for a being like her. "So I go back in time to find out what happened?" Simply put, yes. But be warned Marigold. Things do not always go as planned, especially when changing the flow of fate. "Oh, no... Does this have anything to do with that 'For Want of a Nail' rhyme?" Somehow, Marigold could feel the being widening her eyes in curiosity. I am surprised that you would remember something so obscure. "It's just something that stuck with me when I was still in school." But that rhyme is only too correct. The most insignificant detail may lead to a completely different future. For you to keep track of all of these details is too much to ask. But, do be careful. "Okay. So what happens if I..." she paused nervously, "fail?" No. Not "if." You WILL fail. That is a guarantee. But do not fret. I will supply you with a number of Celestite Flowers, and the ones you do not pick will shrivel up and create more seeds for you to use. However they will eventually run out, but even I do not know when exactly. And to help you further, Celestia has left another tool. When you wake up, you will be back in your own bed, but on your desk shall be a pair of infinity saddlebags. These bags will stay constant, by that I mean anything placed inside will stay with you through time. "Huh. Sounds useful." And it is. Another constant will be your own home. No matter what happens, the inside will not change. "So if I made a mess searching for something to use to save somepony's life..." Then that mess shall be present until it is cleaned up. However, if you bring a pony in your home, that pony will disappear when the apocalypse happens. That cannot be changed. "So my house won't change, but no bringing ponies along for the ride. Got it." ...I do not have much time. I must finish explaining so please forgive me if I rush. Should you fail, you will first speak with me, then you will wake up in your house after the disaster. However depending on the circumstances, your surrounding will change. If the world ended because of a bomb, the crater will still be present. If a plague has passed by, corpses will line the streets. You can use this to your advantage for finding clues should the need arise. After you are finished exploring, you may return to noon by smelling the scent of the Celestite Flower and letting your mind sleep. If you are too injured to live, I shall extract your body and soul back to the void. A copy of your physical body will be left as not to arouse suspicion, and you will begin again in your bed after the apocalypse has occurred. "Wow... I have it made don't I?" Celestia has only made sure that whoever had the job of changing the future was as prepared as possible. Nevertheless, your task will still be daunting. "You talk like Princess Celestia is a different pony." Because Celestia was the name of the alicorn in the physical world. As a spirit, I have no name, nor is there any need for one. "Can I still call you Princess Celestia?" If you wish so. But the "Princess" is unnecessary. There was a long pause as Marigold let everything they had talked about sink in. "...Why?" Why what? "Why are you helping me?" I may be a spirit, but I do care. If it was any other time, I would have left the world as it was. However, Celestia has prepared well, and has given you a sliver of hope. As long as there is one way to avoid this disaster, I shall assist you to the best of my abilities. "You're still Celestia at heart huh?" Yes. Now, any other questions? "Yeah, where can I get a bed like the one I slept in?" Have you noticed that everything seemed to be tailored to your preferences? Marigold nodded, or at least tried to. But either way, it got the point across. It was. Its only reason for existence was to lure anypony left alive. The pastries were laced with sleeping potion and the bed was enchanted to change its scent and softness depending on the pony who slept in it. From there the pony would've met and talked with me, preparing them to change the future and avoid the apocalypse. "And I fell for it." It was for the good of all. "Just curious, if I refuse...?" The being was silent, but Marigold gasped when a familiar yellow flower appeared next to the Celestite seed. Its stem and leaves were green and healthy, and the petals never seemed so vibrant. "SUNLIGHT DAWN!" The apocalypse has happened. What you see here is but a reconstruction of the flower you care so dearly. Should you choose to leave the world as-is, you will simply exist. Never able to meet your friends again. Never able to taste the fresh nectar of a blooming flower. You are living the bad ending in a barren world but you have a chance to make it all right. If you wish so, you may return to that ending. "...No" Then will you proceed as an agent of history? Marigold whimpered, "...Alright" she whispered, "I'll do it." Then good luck. And remember- Of all the endless possibilities that fade into darkness, there is but one razor-thin path of light. Find it. *** A yellow coated earth pony groaned as she lifted her head off of her lumpy pillow. Her room was painted a pleasant light green with matching curtains. Everything from the pictures to her bedsheets had flowers on them in some form or another. Marigold shook her head, sending her short bright red mane flying outwards as she stretched her whole body. She sighed, wondering if everything was just a dream. But the brown saddlebags sitting on her desk and the smell of burning tax forms said otherwise. Outside, the evidence of her rampage was impossible to ignore. The castle gates were still wide open, and she could just make out the marble staircase. Her eyes start tearing up at the empty windowsill. The only thing left of her flower was a perfect circle in the dust where the pot once sat. Marigold hardened her emotions. There would be time to grieve later. Without another thought, she raced downstairs and slowly pushed open the back door. Her breath was taken away by the sight. A sea of crystalline blue flowers flowed in the wind, her barren backyard almost overgrown with Celestite Flowers. The earth pony slowly reached out and plucked one out of the ground. Its translucent petals didn't glitter under the sun like a cut and polished diamond, rather it added an iridescent sheen to whatever was visible through it. From the center were the long and thin stamen, each tipped with a small crystal no larger than a single ball of birdshot. Marigold experimentally shook the flower. It rang as if thousands of sleigh bells were shaken at once. Tiny pinpricks of light floated out. After a few moments, she realized that she had shaken out the pollen. The florist stared as they disappeared. She sighed. It was now or never. A chance to see her beloved flower once more. Marigold held the Celestite Flower up to her nose and inhaled. It smelled like... nothing. The flower exploded in a bright, blinding flash of blue light. A small maelstrom of sparkles circled the panicked mare, slowly increasing its speed until it was nothing more than a blur. It split into two rings, one floating above her head, and the other almost touching the ground. Marigold gasped, and the circles of light crashed together, leaving nothing but a yard full of blue flowers on a background of burning buildings.