The Order had promised seventeen hours of safety on the fateful day of the operation. For formality's sake they had described the plan in a memo distributed to everypony, though the redundancy was soon evident by the sudden filling of the wastepaper bin. Outside, a daring, suicidal cat-and-mouse chase would start. Small teams would wait for Discord at every town. Upon sighting, they would launch attacks at him, and proceed to run the Hel away.
Of course, it wasn't as simple as that; every "leg" of the chase was rigged with spells and hexes to hinder, cripple or disable certain aspects of time-space. Discord was, it was almost certain, thaumic to a much higher degree than ordinary objects or ponies. This much wasn't hard to grasp; how else could a living thing possess such power without being part of it himself? The sudden distortions of magic would be off-setting for his teleportation, like falling through air into water, only to swim through the layer to find thickening concrete. Whenever possible they would take potshots at him using enchanted weaponry. Some of the designs were quite novel, and Caughlin found herself both grudgingly impressed and conflicted. She decided against informing them that regular weapons would work just fine. After all, the plan would already be in motion by the time word reached the ones who needed it the most.
She had managed to sneak out a copy of Celestia's growth guidelines from an Order scientist's pocket. If her lack of means to save Celestia aside from the alicornification gave her despair, this was not much relief, either: while the deep embedding of the Accelerat offset most of the pain of cellular-level adaption - tricking her yet-unformed physiology into thinking that the quickened rate was natural - there was still the matter of nervous stress.
The scientists were unable to reprogram her five senses. They would be overwhelmed, possibly leading to brain shock, risking eyesight and hearing loss. To overcome this Celestia would be dosed with drugs and magic every twelve hours until her vital signs stabilized. This was to go on indeterminately, until it was safe to stop; during the early periods of monitored development she would be read to in her tank to make use of her rapidly-expanding thinking processes and to keep her hearing in use.
The drugs and the spells needed to keep Celestia from going insane with pain were firmly in Furhich's hooves so she couldn't whisk Celestia away from him just yet. But as least she could try to get the job of reading to her. If she could just shape her right, then Celestia would be at least resistant to Furhich's philosophical manipulation.
Luna, meanwhile, was growing well. She had mastered flying unexpectedly quickly, early by two weeks. Caughlin had rewarded her with her first present ever - an old but functional abacus, frame of oak and beads of polished stone, which had been fashioned for her easily ten, twenty years ago by a now-deceased vitamins expert, Readphill. She had found it while digging through her collection of trinkets, which she kept hidden in a chest under her bed. Its discovery had been unexpectedly nostalgic; Readphill, for all her eccentricities, treated her like a younger sister.
"I'm going to have to teach you how to use this thing, won't I?" frowned Caughlin, realizing this moments after giving it to her.
"What does it do?" asked Luna, giving it a telekinetic shake, looking delighted at the rattle it made.
"Well, you use it to count. The ancient ponies used it. We don't anymore, of course, thanks to the invention of the Calculating spell - a proud product of your family, did you know? - but the art of using an abacus shouldn't disappear. It was mine, you know, before they invented the spell, but now I'm giving it to you." Caughlin leaned over and pointed to the middle row. "So you start here. The four on the bottom are 'one's. The one on top is a 'five'. So..." With slow, deliberate flicks, each one clacking loudly, she showed Luna, "that's one. Two. Three. Four." In a single motion she moved the 'five' and the four 'ones' down together. "Five. See? And then six, seven..."
"What about ten?"
"Ten is this one, the next column."
The alicorn had taken an unusual fascination to the device. The abacus had aged very gracefully, and the extra rub Caughlin had given it certainly helped. To Caughlin's pride Luna was doing simple addition and subtraction on it like a pro not even two days later, earning little exclamations of pride and pats on the head with her math teacher of the day.
"See? You're learning things really well," murmured Caughlin, wondering how she would react to her younger sister's artificially-endowed steep learning curve.
The day came at last. While the R&D ponies continued their work, a crowd of Order scientists huddled behind the guise spell, double-checking the equipment and their notes. A couple of her colleagues had stuck around to observe. Caughlin stepped into the director's circle once more. There was a thick air of expectation that did little to ease the mixture of emotions sloshing within her.
She had not slept at all last night. As day by day passed, she waited for Furhich to give her some kind of instruction about the alicornification. He had not given her anything, aside from "It's the same process that you performed last time".Almost as if he wanted her to go in uninformed and ill-prepared... Something was missing, but what?
"Are you ready, Caughlin?" asked Furhich, smiling with all the pleasantness of methanol poisoning.
"Ready as I'll ever be," said Caughlin. She wanted to snarl. She wanted to hide that she was almost snarling. But neither would have been true, because even stronger than her anger was the pounding of her heart and the blank whizzing of her brain. Characteristics. Union. Accelerat. I'm... I'm nervous, dammit.
"All right." Furhich gave an oblivious - or possibly not - short bow and turned away. "Everypony clear? Final checks on the triagram and and spell conduits."
"Final checks, complete," called out the chief assistant.
"Ethereal jaunt in three, two, one."
Too late to back out now.
Caughlin took a deep breath, closed her eyes and let herself shift into the higher dimension.
Now that I'm here a second time, it does seem a tad empty, thought Caughlin, taking in the swirl with slightly less awe. Nothing but colours and swirls. Tourism must be thriving in these parts.
She approached the three characteristics, floating at a non-distance away. This time, a faint white aura clung about them in addition to their own colors. Celestia's essence. Her soul itself.
Trying not to vomit - if it were even physically possible - she tried to meld the lot together. But something was stopping them from joining, more than the initial repelling she had experienced the first time. Looking closely, she could see that there was a second, acid green aura underneath the white. Somewhere, a helpful voice whispered: The Accelerat.
She cursed the Order and Furhich as she applied a greater force to no avail. She was having enough trouble trying to squash the objects together, where the very concepts of "squash" and "object" were so fluid... If she had calmed down, she might have found a better way to coordinate her efforts. But there simply was no time. Each moment Celestia's body existed without an anchor increased the risk of thaumic collapse - little more than a footnote on the memo, Caughlin bitterly remembered. As she pushed, the green aura flared up; the Accelerat was refusing to join the characteristics with a vengeance.
Was it possible to back out and ask for advice? Caughlin tried to force herself back into the physical realm... and failed.
Reverse ethereal jaunt, she thought to herself, not daring to open her mouth, which she vaguely felt she still had. How do I... How?
It didn't take long for her to resign herself to the answer. Runes and magic, that was how, none of which she had on this side. She was stuck here until she completed the union - maybe even after that, who knew? Maybe that was Furhich's plan, to lock her in the thaumic realm forever.
What do I do? I can't perform the union, I can't get out, what if I never do? Maybe I'll starve. Or maybe I won't, really, since I'm not in the physical- Her heart was going wild. She yelled, and felt the screech through her spine as it cut through the silence with all the clarity afforded by nothing. "Shut up, Caughlin!" she half-shouted, trying to gasp for breath and drawing pittance. "Just calm down. Keep calm. Go with the flow."
Her voice vanished as son as the words reached her ears. No echo, no reverb. As if she had not said anything. She bit her lip - thank goodness, it was still there - mustered up her thoughts, focused once more. Just do what you did before. She took hold of the characteristics and drew them together.
Mother? asked a tinny voice out of the blue, just before Caughlin was about to shove.
"Who was that?"
Mother? Are you Mother?
"Am I now? Who are you?" she called out, spinning around defensively.
You must be Mother! Oh, I've waited for you! It's so queer, Mother, it feels so odd...
"Ce...Celestia?" Caughlin drew near to the characteristics, and reeled back as the auras throbbed with each syllable. "Celestia, is that you?"
Celestia? I do not know who is Celestia.
"Then who are you?" she asked, her surprise giving way to annoyance.
I do not know. I am just... me. There were ponies in black, and they were looking for me. There was a lot of shouting, and then darkness, and then a small space with a tiny sun, and a single other pony who told me to-
"Okay. All right. I think I know," cut Caughlin warily. "You don't have a name. But the only pony who's here, other than me, is you. Your name is Celestia. It's the name I'm - we're - giving to you. And that's who you are."
And you are Mother. You are my Mother, said the voice, the brimming joy only made eerie by its context. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time!
"Well...I suppose I am," said Caughlin, her expression remaining taut. She could feel her curiosity take the better of her. "How is it that you can talk? You're only a week-old foal, maybe even less than that." The same age as Luna back then. I wonder if she could talk like this, too...
Talk? What is that? I cannot make sounds like the ponies outside, answered the voice.
"But I can hear you."
But I cannot talk. We must not be talking then.
"Maybe it's different in the thaumatic realm," muttered Caughlin. How strangely... logical that actually is. "Hmm. Thaumic realm. You must be thinking your thoughts, else they wouldn't exist... thinking is a form of communication here. And foals can communicate flawlessly... Ah, I'm getting off topic." She sighed and rubbed a hoof on her face. "Celestia, do you know how to perform a union?"
What is a union?
Caughlin repeated the action. "Nevermind."
Maybe I could leave with you. Is that okay, Mother? Can I leave with you? The cheeriness of the voice had been replaced with begging, almost hungry in the urgency of its tone. I feel lonely and empty like I'm in two pieces. Please, Mother, it doesn't hurt but it's so odd.
"Leave with me... leave with me," repeated Caughlin, thinking hard. Furhich wants to trap me. Even if he didn't trap me, he probably intends for me to fail. That's why he's given me components that can't unify.
The Accelerat is a spell. The components are thaumic. Celestia's essence is thaumic.
And I'm a unicorn.
"That's it!" exclaimed Caughlin. Before Celestia could say another word, Caughlin lifted her horn. "Celestia, you'd better hold on tight. This may be a bumpy ride. But I promise you, I will not hurt you. Not if I can help it. Please, Celestia, you don't know me yet... but trust me."
Outside, the scientists were trotting to and fro worriedly, bumping into each other every so often and bursting into fiery but short-lived shouting matches. Furhich was taking everything in with a quiet, unreadable demeanor. Whooves watched.
Time passed at different rates in the thaumic realm, and that aspect was something that the Order scientists had not considered important until then. Five of the seventeen precious hours had passed. They needed at least four hours to run the first recordings and tests, and to put Celestia's physical being into a sustaining medium took another hour's operations. And they needed a buffer time in case of emergencies. Buffer time was paramount. Whooves had heard them use the exact word more than once under their breaths.
Whooves himself was content with silently cursing Furhich, shooting dirty looks at him so much that it was more of a dirty stare.
Suddenly, the empty director's circle began to glow. The chatter died down as everypony strained to see what was going on. Cold observation turned into confusion as runes began to etch themselves around the circle.
Amidst the hubbub, Furhich remained silent.
The light from the circle intensified and burst forth, blinding everypony. In the pure white Whooves strained to make out what seemed to be Caughlin's figure, except that her horn was longer and she had sprouted a pair of wings... the light soon engulfed even that, and Whooves had to turn away.
The triagram was burning white with light as well by now. The runes along the chamber began to glow brightly, their hues adding to the brilliance. When everypony looked up, they saw that the deed had been done: Celestia, suspended in the nutrient liquid, had a new pair of wings. The circles were back to normal. The additional runes were gone, consumed in the process. And in the director's circle, panting heavily, was Caughlin, back in her gray, physical unicorn body, horn still glowing furiously with residue magic. Wingless. Alive.
"She made it," whispered Whooves, voice escalating into a shout the next second. "She made it, everypony, she made it!"
"Eh-" began Caughlin, but she was knocked down by a relieved Whooves. Slowly, the noise building up, the scientists began to clap their hooves on the floor, then cheer, then whoop with excitement.
"Man your posts, everypony! Move, move!" shouted an elderly voice, and at once they scrambled. The source approached the now-laughing Caughlin, who was tumbled on the floor with Whooves, and bowed.
"Miss Caughlin Mare. You are a genius," said the pony breathlessly. "I know exactly what you did."
"I know who you are," realized Caughlin, getting up. "You're Dr. Klipit, aren't you? I didn't know you were down here."
"How could I not for this momentous occasion?" wheezed Dr. Klipit. "We may have had our discrepancies and doubts about you, before, but I want to apologize for all that. You are truly a worthy equal."
"I'm impressed that you know what I did," said Caughlin, adding meaningfully, "given not even I was sure of it. I wasn't given a memo."
"But it was brilliant! The spell execution. The catalysing. The-"
"Will somepony care to explain what is going on?" asked Furhich, tone dangerously even. As if he had forgotten, his smile topped his sentence like a cherry laced with laxative. "For even Dr. Klipit to bring such high praise, I believe this must be worth knowing?"
"Well, Furhich," said Caughlin primly, "Allow me." She cleared her throat and hid a wince as soreness set in. Time for the big reveal.
"Your Accelerat was incompatible with the union. The Accelerat was not only incompatible, but also geared towards the Horn. It was inappropriately placed and slotted shoddily. I realized it when I gave the things a careful look - one was glowing stronger than the rest." She glowered at him. "It may have looked fine on the diagrams, but the fact remains that the Accelerat refused to have any part of the union." From the corner of her sight, she could see that Dr. Klipit positively shrunk at the words.
"That was when I began to think of the components in terms of nature. All of them - Celestia's essence included - were thaumic. And as a unicorn I had the ability to control thaumatics to an extent. So, using my own body as a catalyst, I took everything into myself. The whole lot. It was the hypothesis that I had greater control over events within my own thaumic field, rather than over their respective ones. I became a reaction chamber, so to speak. And it turned out right." She gave him another sharp look before continuing.
"Of course, I had to absorb some of the Accelerat. It was not pleasant, I can tell you that. But I did redistribute it back into the amalgam, so none of that -" She was about to say "junk", but changed her mind - "spell was lost. Carrying it, and Celestia's essence inside of me, I re-entered the director's circle. Which reminds me, I noticed a conditional barrier clause in the circle there, a tiny but present thing." She got up and sidled over to a blank patch around the chamber. "It wasn't there before, if I remember correctly. Somepony was making sure I did a good job before I came out, and I'm bloody grateful for that.
"Anyhow I think you saw me carrying the amalgam with Celestia's essence. I shifted into the thaumic realm again - I was carrying so much extra field that it was easy - and slotted it into Celestia. And hay, you know what?" She tossed her mane with relished flourish. "You were right. The two halves of her essence stuck together like magnets. The implementation was quicker and easier than Luna's. The conditions were met and I was freed."
"Absolutely wonderful, miss Caughlin. Once again you meet and excel beyond our expectations," said Furhich with a cold smile. "I knew you could do it."
Playing the fool? Hah. I see right through you, thought Caughlin. She felt a reply itching at the corners of her mouth, but looking at Celestia - a foal that she had actually borne inside of her (strictly speaking), somepony who had come to terms with her as "Mother" before even laying eyes on her - she was reminded of her goal. She forced down her pride, and settled for as contemptuous of a flick of her tail as possible. "You flatter me, Fuhrich. Just doing my best."
That night, it was a very weary Caughlin that climbed in to bed early. Luna was already fast asleep. Gummy crawled up to her, taking his usual spot on her mane, and Caughlin patted it absent-mindedly.
"I did it, Gummy," she said softly. "I saved Celestia." She heard the sound of Gummy blinking, eyes slightly out of sync as always. "It feels good, do you know? Being able to do something right. Success." She sighed, and shifted into a more comfortable position. "I just have to do everything right from now on, eh, Gummy? Then we can go back to living our lives in peace." To her ceiling, she mumbled as an afterthought, "And thank you. Even if you didn't do anything, things turned out all right today. And I'm grateful for that."