CHAPTER THREE:
TIME
1
Time. What an oddity.
Encased in stone, time has little meaning. Minutes could be days, or months could be years; even the straightforward conversation of a single pair of ponies might feel like a lifetime in and of itself. Oh yes, he heard most everything within his stone prison. With eyes turned to rock there was little else in terms of stimulation, so what else was there to do really, but listen and wait? Perhaps ponder and dream? Perhaps even plot and scheme?
One-thousand years was a long time, even to an immortal. And so, he had currently found, was this cabinet meeting.
“Eeeeuhhh!” Discord yawned loudly while cracking his knuckles. He leaned back in his hard stone chair and made no attempt at getting comfortable. Such a task he already knew was impossible.
“So that’s why I believe if we move the festival back two days as scheduled, it would allow more time for the Earth ponies to…”
Celestia had been busy babbling about festivals and feasts and planning and building for close to an hour now. If Discord knew anything about these weekly cabinet meetings, it was that Celestia liked to talk into infinity—she had planned a schedule for that day, and she meant to arrive at each and every topic of importance only when she damn well got there. And it wasn’t like she was getting any older, right?
In his thin eagle claw, Discord held a grotesquely large mug filled with his own original brew, branded with the label “DISCORD’S” in red wavy lines. Every few seconds a letter would flip or take a lap around the rest of the mug. One morning, several years ago, he had surprised every member of the cabinet with their very own cup of Discord’s special drink (a mix of ground dark beans with hot water and an insane amount of sugar). It was what he drank most days to stay alert. And it was that morning he quickly discovered most ponies did not have the stomach for such a delicacy.
“I concur most definitely!” Discord shouted while raising a hand.
Celestia paused only for the briefest of moments before continuing on.
To the left of Celestia sat Princess Luna, once again habitually weary from last night’s dream duty. To the left of her sat Discord, in a stone chair much smaller than the Princesses own. Twelve chairs circled the vast room’s large oval table. Seven attendees were normal. Sometimes even nine. Eleven was when Discord knew something big was approaching.
Somehow the act of bringing his mug to his mouth became far too much a burden for the draconequus, so he snapped a swizzle-straw to help bridge the two. Unluckily, for the pony seated next to him, the straw that had just appeared was six feet long and loosely wrapped around his head. The pony in question did his best to ignore the creature’s mild attempts at humor, and basically continued his focus on Celestia. Needless to say, the chair beside Discord was usually given to whichever guest entered the room last.
In return Discord did not huff or pout and instead snapped the straw away. He was used to being ignored at these meetings. In due time though, he knew they would come to serve their purpose. Now, more than ever, he had to be careful. Now, more than ever, he had to resist temptation.
2
The first time he had escaped from his stone imprisonment, he was just as quickly returned there. Six pony friends—six Elements of Harmony—made quick work of the poor creature, even before much of any fun could be had. Cocky, he had told himself soon afterward, when all he had left were his thoughts and the never-ending oodles of time. You got cocky and you played your cards before you even knew what you had. You had NO plan—no plan WHATSOEVER!
More than a year later he had been released again, this time for a more superficial reason. Celestia wanted his magic. His vast, far-reaching magic, she had wished to claim as her own. Her gambit was the quiet and kind pony known as Fluttershy, as well as a series of attempts to showcase the benefits of friendship and all around goodliness. Discord’s only concern at this time was not being turned back into stone. So, after a few overwrought lessons including table manners and the delicate feelings of others, Discord caved and relinquished whatever nastiness was left to him. But truly… in times such as these, what option had been left for him? The next time they found it necessary to cast him to stone, what was stopping them from making it the last? What was stopping them from grabbing the closest pair of chisel and hammer and putting an end to the draconequus’ ways forever? It was always a thought that chilled Discord to his core.
And so he lamented… and he played his part well.
His first task came only a short time later; an order directly from Celestia and for his ears only. It turned out a certain purple, book-loving unicorn was getting a pair of wings to add to her arsenal. How nice it must be to be teacher’s pet! he thought. Or would it be God’s pet? Either way, Discord did as he was bidden and Twilight received her pair of wings—ones that even he could not remove. (Although it did take her some time to locate the “Made in Cloudsdale” tag near her shoulder.)
With that task accomplished, Discord was given a new one in its place. One that he knew he could never really hope to achieve: be good. And stay good. It was this type of knowledge—the knowledge that they were trying to change the very nature of his being—which made the wheels in his head turn in such a way they hadn’t in a very long time.
It was over a year before Celestia called upon him again. A villain from her past (as they all seemed to be) had escaped from Tartarus with the soul intent of—snooze—claiming all of Equestria for himself. Originally Discord had balked at such a notion. Someone other than his truly taking a stab at the throne? Discord was nonplussed. More so than that, he was mad.
Upon meeting the foreboded figure, Discord was taken aback by his calmness and surety. Tirek appeared to have the mind and, could it be the… power? to fulfill such a task. Discord thought it through and gambled what credibility he had left. Half a world was better than none at all. Wasn’t it?
It was only a short time later that Discord choked on the bitter taste of defeat once again. Betrayed, weakened, and utterly paralyzed by the sudden notion that whoever might come out on top—Tirek or Twilight, or whoever would be left when the dust would settle—would be more than happy to deal with Discord accordingly. So with everything lost he played the only thing he had left intact: pity.
Several weeks following the Tirek incident and still Discord could not believe his luck… or that of the pony’s naivety. No stone prison, no banishment to the ends of Equestria, not even a mere slap on the wrist. He had cried and he had pleaded and he had apologized while on his hands and knees, and somehow it had all been accepted. He had almost doomed them all to a life of servitude and pain and somehow he was once more a friend to the ponies of Ponyville.
Joyous beyond measure, he had nearly forgotten himself and presented a conjured up bouquet of flowers to a (let’s just say) startled Celestia. What followed this was a brief and laughably bad two week courtship where they soon discovered some flames never could be relit, no matter the effort—especially given a thousand years of indifference.
The shear simplicity of it all gave him nightmares. Night after night after night it would start out the same. Again he was stone—solid, unmoving, unseeing. Again he imagined their hammers and their tools; their horrific instruments of destruction. Broken into a million tiny fragments, even Discord did not know if he could return from such a state.
But those dreams had ended long ago.
3
It had been ten years ago, actually. Ten years since the return of Tirek and the return of a more villainous Discord. And although no pony in the present time would ever admit to such malicious thinking, Discord could almost feel the opinion of him questioned all over again. More eyeballs than usual would follow his movements; more whispers would be heard behind closed doors and in the little circles of ponies in the halls. Yet with just a shrug and a high-pitched giggle he dismantled such hearsay and continued on as if nothing had changed. He had far bigger things cooking then. And it was at meetings such as these that he did his best pondering.
“So we are in agreement?” the white alicorn at the head of the table asked.
A majority of hooves lifted into the air. Discord added another vote to try and move things along.
“Very well then. Let’s move on to our last bit of business before closing. If you will all focus your attention to the map on the wall—”
“Oh jeeze!” Discord trumpeted, running a lion paw irritably down his face.
Celestia proved unperturbed. “The map on the wall shows…”
The alicorn then began her latest tirade on what she believed to be the latest nesting ground for Changling activity. In reality, the bit of forest she concerned herself with was only invested with bats and was in-turn scarcely visited. Discord let her droll on nonetheless.
A constant worry of Celestia’s had been the reappearance of some long forgotten foe or the emergence of something new. Truth be told, besides a few minor incidents involving secondary level mythical creatures, Tirek had truly been the last villain of much worth or worry.
Still, Discord had to give it to Celestia for being prepared. Although it was something he knew he would need to change very soon.
4
When the meeting finally spun itself out Discord hurried along the hall for his solar. A few years ago he had been given keys to it, when it was felt he could be trusted living on the Canterlot grounds. Truth be told, Discord spent very little time in his room. He usually had business elsewhere that needed tending to. That, and he grew rather bored cooped up inside.
“I still don’t know why you come to those.”
Discord twisted his head around while leaving the rest of his body to walk ahead. “Celestia,” he cooed, “and here I thought you’d already said every word in all the land.”
Discord slowed his walk to match that of the alicorn’s.
“For years you pestered me,” she snorted good-naturedly, “asking ‘When would I get a seat on the council?’ and then when I do give you one, all you do is disrupt what little seriousness is left in the room.”
Discord halted to cross his arms. “Don’t give me that, Celestia! First off: you make it seem as if it had all actually been that easy. I ask every week for years to be on that council, and when I’m finally invited, where goes my seat? In the back! Not even allowed to speak!”
“We’ve been through this, Discord. That was a trail run… to see if you truly wanted to be there or not. But now you’re a real member; one who we actually…”—she hesitated a moment—“…can rely on. But the question still remains on whether you want to be there or not.
“Do you?”
The draconequus contemplated for a single moment, before grinning brightly. “Anything, my sweet, to be near such beauty!” He placed a single finger under her chin.
“I see.”
Celestia nudged the finger away with a wing and began to trot off. Discord followed close behind.
“Well sorry Princess if I don’t like to be reminded about all the nasty things that plan to attack and kill us while we sleep—all the invisible dangers that have yet to be seen or felt or worried about. Of course… these things would need to exist for such an event to occur.”
“I’ll give it to you, Discord,” she said, “things have been peaceful for a good long time now—since the escape of Tirek, truly. But we have no way of knowing when the next enemy will strike… and how.”
“I know what you’re in need of, Celestia. A vacation!” Discord snapped his fingers and suddenly a red- and yellow-flowered shirt appeared on him. The one he had conjured for Celestia hung limply from her horn. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply while Discord removed it with a blush. “All I’m saying, dear, is that your worries need not exist! If something comes up—which it won’t—you’ll just send in good old Twilight Sparkle and friends to take care of it! You honestly believe anything could stand a chance against that last show they put on?”
Even though it had been ten years since Tirek had been trounced, Discord could still remember vividly the strength of Twilight’s new powers. When it seemed the combined strength of three alicorns’ magic could only match the might of Tirek, Twilight had pulled something else out entirely. Discord would swear his eyes still hurt from the tackiness of all those colors on all those young mares, but he would never question the power that it had given them. But then again, he thought, what exactly was left of that power?
Celestia had been silent for a second before answering Discord’s question. “As you’ve known, Twilight has chosen to… isolate herself from her friends. Ponies grow up—ten years is a long time—and I think Twilight’s still coming to grips with all there is to know about her alicorn powers. It must be difficult, going from a normal pony to a…”
“Immortal?” Discord finished.
Celestia paused. “Yes.”
Discord smiled again. “Give her a few hundred years and I’m sure she’ll be right as chocolate rain. Having all the time in Equestria can be a wonderful thing, as I’m sure you’ve witnessed!”
Celestia said more to herself, “I’ll have to ask her how she’s doing once I see her.”
“She’s visiting? I had no idea.”
Actually, he did.
“Yes. For a few weeks before returning to her studies.” Celestia looked downcast for a moment, thinking. “I wish she wouldn’t become so absorbed in her research, but it’s whatever she thinks is best.” A hint of a smile warmed her face. “I think I’ll surprise her while she’s here. Maybe her old friends would want to spend some time with her.”
“In that case I’d talk to Pinkie Pie. She’d more than likely know where all her friends have gone to. I’m sure she’d bring cake, too.”
Celestia’s face lit up at the notion. Discord liked to see her happy. Really, he did. It meant her mind was elsewhere than pondering about possible dangers lurking in the dark. And while on that note…
“Speaking of friends,” Discord said, checking a watch that had seconds ago not existed, “I’d better be off. I’m meeting a friend out of town.”
“You’ve been seeing this friend for quite some time, Discord. I’m surprised they’ve stuck with you as long as they have,” Celestia quipped.
Discord feigned a pain in his chest. “Oh Celestia, how your heavy words tear me asunder! You really think the only way I can keep a friend is if I chain them to a wall?”
Celestia giggled lightly. “I guess if I can handle you once a week, someone else can, too.”
On that note the pair went their separate ways and Discord climbed the many stairs to his solar. He could have teleported there (or better yet, to his final destination) but he always liked to use this bit of time to get in the correct mood. This time especially.
Once a week for ten years he had visited a cave to keep an eye on one single pony. This time would be the last of those visits. With this last deed done, he could unleash his well kept secret onto Equestria, and see just how the dominos would fall. It would all be very exciting.
Once the door to his solar was shut tight and locked, Discord took one last breath and snapped himself from the room. After this first move there would be no going back.