//------------------------------// // Paradise Found // Story: The Outsiders // by Arania //------------------------------// Twilight gaped, unable to find words capable of efficiently conveying the impossibility of what she was seeing. The chamber she now found herself inside was so far beyond anything she had ever expected to see in her lifetime that her brain was very nearly on the verge of shutting down in protest. Unlike what little of the Exterior that she had seen thus far, (relatively) simple rooms and chambers with doors and lights, The Library was something else entirely. It wasn’t merely the size that Twilight was having trouble dealing with, but more the utterly foreign rules that seemed to govern the chamber that she now found herself inside. The gargantuan spherical chamber had seemingly done away with conventional laws of physics in favor of something that gave Twilight the impression that she was standing on the interior wall of a thousand-kilometre-wide ball. A place where down, in contrast to what she had come to expect, no longer pointed towards the centre of the world, but away from it. Willing herself not to panic at her mind’s insistence that everything was about to come crashing down on her, Twilight turned, taking in more and more of the chamber. Immense triangular and pentagonal patterns adorned the walls, delineating boundaries between what she assumed were colossal bookshelves. With a start, she realised that the pattern continued along the wall to what she identified as the floor, driving home the full scale of the place - Each of the delineated areas had boundaries hundreds of kilometres long. You could put the entirety of the Equestrian subcontinent into this room and it would barely touch the sides. And floating in the centre of this impossible place, a small sun burnt a brilliant white, illuminating the entire chamber. As she stared, a miniature flare arced away from the surface of the miniature star, sending patterns of light chasing across the corresponding floor, or wall from Twilight’s vantage point. “Welcome to The Library,” Celestia said, beaming down at her. “Celestia above,” Twilight whispered, awestruck. “What is this place?” “This is the Index,” Celestia explained, leading Twilight away from the doorway they had entered through. “The various books in this chamber catalogue and map the myriad tomes contained within the Library’s various subchambers.” “Subchambers?” Twilight croaked. “There’s More?” “There are a further ninety-two chambers of similar size to this that contain the actual content of the Library.” “Okay, this is too much.” “You wanted a library, Twilight,” Celestia said, voice stern. “I recall you insisting that I bring you here not an hour ago. I also seem to remember you claiming that you didn’t need a room, since you could live here.” “I wasn’t expecting this!” Twilight shrieked, hyperventilating. “You could fit all of Equestria into this one chamber alone! And it just… keeps going! The walls slope up and it keeps going and it should come crashing down because this is down and that’s up and…” Twilight gulped on the air in a panic, fuzzy darkness curling at the edge of her vision. “What were you expecting?” “Not THIS!” Twilight yelled back, voice straining. “I was expecting big, like, Library of Canterlot-big. Bigger, even. But… You’ve hollowed out a small moon and are living on the inside!” “Twilight…” “How is this even possible? The magic required to reshape gravity on this scale is immense! I can’t even begin to guess the scale required to pull this off!” “Twilight…” “And then you put a star in the middle! How in the name of creation itself is it still burning? How have we not been incinerated? How is it sitting there?” “TWILIGHT!” “WHAT?” Twilight spun to face Celestia, questions continuing to pile up inside her head. “Calm down.” “Are you serious?” Twilight asked, tilting her head slightly. “I am in the most impossible structure ever conceived, and you’re asking me to be calm?” “Yes,” Celestia implored, exasperation creeping into her voice. “I realise that this is probably a bit much for you to assimilate all at once, but you’re focussing on the wrong things right now.” “Oh Really?” “Think about where you are.” “I’m standing on the inside of a giant ball with a miniature star in the middle and gravity is asleep at the wheel.” “No. Where are you? What did you come here for?” “A library. It’s a library.” “Yes.” “It’s a library.” “Yes.” “I am standing inside the largest library that could ever possibly exist, anywhere, ever.” “I daresay you are right,” Celestia said, guiding Twilight along the marked pathway, flanked on both sides by guide rails and navigational aids. “How big is it?” “This chamber, if I recall correctly, has a diameter of around 1,500 kilometres. It serves as the index for each of the ninety-two sub-chambers linked to it.” Celestia led them down a staircase into a brightly-lit hall, shelves of meticulously-catalogued index volumes stretching away in both directions. “How many?” “I’m sorry? How many what?” “Books. How many are there?” “I’m… not sure, to be honest. I don’t know if there are words for numbers that large…” “That many?” “For a sense of scale, these shelves cover the entire shell that you saw before, and extend to a depth of… about twelve kilometres, if my memory is correct.” “Thats…” Twilight paused for a moment, running the numbers in her head. “Three Hundred Million cubic kilometres.” “That sounds about right.” “Of nothing but bookshelves and books.” “Correct.” “And that’s the index?” “It would be more accurate to call it a map,” Celestia clarified, turning down an intersection. “With the scale involved, mere numeric indices are insufficient to guide patrons to the sections they desire. Tomes here contain both index information and navigational aids to help ponies reach the shelves the need.” “I can see ponies getting lost in here…” “Less often than you would think. Everything is extensively marked, you can find your way out easily.” “Where are we going, anyway?” “To get you some preliminary reading,” Celestia replied, turning again and leading Twilight through an archway. “Books to familiarise yourself with some of our more useful magic, operations principles, all to bring you up to speed.” They emerged into daylight, the shelves that were flanking them falling away to reveal a tiered amphitheatre embedded into the floor of the chamber. What seemed like hundreds of ponies, many of them duplicates of Twilight herself, milled around the various levels, some talking, but most of them reading. Twilight felt her eyes again drawn irrevocably upwards towards the walls of the shell, taking in the hundred-kilometre-wide delineations and interlocking patterns, only to feel a twinge of confusion as smaller details made themselves apparent. Small protrusions that weren’t there before, patterns of light and shadow that weren’t there before, the sun was a different color. “Why did the sun change color?” “It didn’t,” Celestia answered, gazing up and the miniature solar ball. “It’s always been that color.” “It’s yellow now,” Twilight said, squinting. “It was white before.” “This one’s always been yellow, Twilight.” “What do you mean, ‘This one’?” Celestia smirked, leading Twilight down the stairway. “You’ll get it in a moment, I’m sure.” “It’s changed color,” Twilight stated, staring at the various copies of herself as they descended. “What’s there to get?” “There is a deeper implication here than mere color, Twilight,” Celestia encouraged, stopping as they reached one of the tiers, before proceeding along it. “Find it.” “It’s… hmm…” Twilight mumbled, trying to keep focus as Celestia led her forward. “Stars don’t change color like that, but I suppose this isn’t exactly a normal star floating up there. It’s only a few dozen kilometres across, and… Waitaminute.” Twilight turned in place, pointing at a purple-coated, blue-maned stallion they had just passed, nose-deep in an ancient tome. “What.” The stallion raised his head, frowning at Twilight. “It’s rude to point, you know.” “You’re me!” “Yes.” “But you’re male!” “Yes.” “That’s impossible.” “And yet here I am,” the stallion muttered, turning back to his book. “Twilight,” Celestia prompted, pulling Twilight gently away from her stallion counterpart. “That was a stallion version of me.” “It was, yes.” “There are stallion versions of me.” “This surprises you?” “Yes!” “Why?” “Because it’s… I…” Twilight trailed off, failing to solidify the reason she had been so shocked by her male duplicate. “I don’t know.” “I daresay the events of today have taken a considerable toll on you, Twilight Sparkle. It may simply be that you have reached the limit of surprises you are capable of easily withstanding.” “You’re probably right…” “You will find gender-swapped and even race-swapped versions of all of the ponies here. It is yet another inexplicable quirk of the universe.” “Male versions of me… Alicorn versions of that Pinkie Pie mare…” “Exactly!” “Wait, does that mean that there are...” Twilight stopped short as Celestia halted next to a pair of Twilight duplicates, one of them sporting a pair of wings in addition to her horn. “Alicorn versions of me…” “Wait until you see the griffin versions of you,” The alicorn Twilight smirked, setting down the scroll she had been perusing. “Or the dragon version!” “There’s a dragon version of me?” “No,” Celestia chuckled. “Not here, at least. Though I daresay there is a world in the Interior with your dragon counterpart.” “Oh, go and ruin all my fun,” The alicorn pouted, unable to hide the barest hint of a grin at the edge of her mouth. “Twilight here has just arrived,” Celestia said. “She needs instruction and tutelage on our basic magic framework, and she’ll need to be shown how to assemble a beacon, as well.” “Can do, Pinks. What’s her homeworld?” “Her homeworld’s Slateform. She knows enough to get straight into our spells.” “Waitaminute, Slateform?” The third Twilight sat up, suddenly paying attention. “This is the Insider I got caught by this morning?” “Oh, hello Echo,” Celestia smiled. “Didn’t see you there behind that book.” “Insider?” Alicorn-Twilight asked, pupils shrinking in surprise. “She’s an Insider?” “Yes, Aleph,” Celestia said, her wings fluttering in frustration. “Is that going to be a problem?” “Uh… No. I just wasn’t aware we were handing out secret knowledge to Insiders. Or that there were Insiders here at all” “She is the first, and I have my reasons for wanting her taught our magic.” “She’s been here for all of three hours,” Echo observed. “And you trust her that much already?” “Yes.” Celestia stated flatly. “I’m not going to try and wring the justification out of you, Pink,” Aleph sighed. “I just hope your trust is accurate. Leave her with us, I’ll show her the ropes.” “Thank you,” Celestia smiled at Twilight warmly, before heading back in the direction they had come from, leaving her with her two duplicates. The three Twilights stared at each other awkwardly, each of them not knowing what to say next. “Noneuclidean!” Twilight blurted. “What?” Echo asked, head tilted in confusion. “This Library. It’s non-euclidean. It’s a gigantic spatial graph. Forward then left isn’t the same as left then forward!” “How long have you been awake?” Aleph asked, smirking. “Seven hours or so… Why?” “You sound sleep-deprived,” Aleph smirked. “More specifically, you sound like what we sound like when we’re sleep deprived,” Echo clarified. “Sparkles, that is. You sound like a sleep-deprived Sparkle. Or a manic-slash-hysterical Sparkle.” Twilight and Aleph stared at her, wordless. “What?” “Anyway,” Aleph continued, turning back to Twilight. “We need to get you up to speed, apparently. What’s the most advanced spell you know?” “My final semester project is an intelligent area search and pathfinding spell. That’s about as advanced as I’ve gotten, at the moment…” “Okay, that’s Thaumic Self-Initiative at the least, plus Instructional Embedding. Mostly utility magic, but fairly far along.” “How much offensive magic do you know?” Echo asked. “Offensive, as in…” “Attack spells.” “Um… I can set things on fire…” “And by ‘things’ you mean…” “Candles… bits of paper…” “That’s Ignite Fire. That’s a basic spell. Every unicorn with half an education knows that spell.” “Look,” Twilight growled. “Equestria is at peace. There’s not much need to know how to blow the side off a mountain where I come from.” “Enough, both of you,” Aleph barked, sorting through the stack of books. “First, you’ll need Starswirl’s Conflagration Unleashed, which will give you a good grounding in general magic combat technique.” She plucked the book from the stack, passing it to Twilight before returning to her search. “After that, Offensive Thaumic Formatting by Pelt, and Clover’s Cataclysmic Conjurations. Read Conjurations last. It’s much older, but you’ll need Pelt’s Fifth Thaumic Field Equation to get any of Clover’s spells to work with anything resembling reliability. Clover was a genius spellcaster, but she sucked at math.” Two more books joined the pile, one a modern hardback, the other a leather-bound tome of indeterminable age. “Once you’ve mastered that, you’ll need to read through Advanced Thaumic Embedding and Programming, which will give you the framework required to work with the spells in Alpha’s Applied Void Magic.” “Void Magic?” Twilight asked, looking at the book with curiosity. It appeared to be bound in metal, with pages made of gold leaf. “Fancy term for Outsider magic,” Aleph replied. “Most of the Exterior-unique spells you’ll come across utilise what’s called ‘Void Intrusion’, which is just a fancy way of saying that they interact with the fabric of one or more universes at once. The book has more detail. And while we’re on the topic, Beacon Assembly for the Experienced Spellcaster. You’ll need that one, I’m sure.” Twilight eyed the books with fascination, straightening the pile as she did so. “Away from the topic of blowing ponies away,” Echo began, picking a book from her own pile. “This is A Brief History of The Exterior. I’m sure Alpha gave you the abridged version, but this should answer some of the questions you’ve been having.” “Brief?” Twilight asked incredulously, examining the doorstopper. “It’s either this or we get you a copy of The Encyclopaedia Exterra.” “Before I get completely distracted by this… treasure trove, I have to ask. What are the Falls, exactly?” Aleph winced, her wings fluttering unconsciously. “How much do you want to know?” “Enough to know why everyone keeps wincing whenever it's mentioned.” “See, the thing is,” Aleph began, scanning through her book pile again. “It’s a bit complicated to explain. No-one really knows exactly why the Falls exist. It’s sort of a ‘this is how the world is’ kind of thing, and there isn’t an exact definition that doesn’t rely on extremely convoluted eight-dimensional vector calculus.” “Try.” “The Falls are the area of the Interior that is adjacent to the Ruins.” “That is… so extremely unhelpful.” “Ah!” Aleph exclaimed, pulling another book from the pile, sending eventing tumbling. “Here we are! The Falls Catalogue. Right, so… picture a ball.” “A ball?” “Just go with me here. The Ruins are essentially a large crack in that ball, an area that is structurally unstable, only partially linked to the rest of the ball. Not a very happy place to be.” “With you so far… kinda.” “The Falls are the area around that crack, but not part of the crack, if that makes sense.” “To a degree, yes.” “Except in reality, the relationship is backwards. The Ruins are caused by the Falls, not the other way around, and the ball isn’t a ball, but rather an eight-dimensional hyperstructure.” “The Falls cause the Ruins?” “Generally, the Falls have a greater propensity to produce individuals of greater-than-average magic potential, coupled with lower-than-average overall positive ethical pressure in the world. Ponies who have the potential to cause Detachment Events, and are more likely to do so.” “Why go there at all then?” “Not every world is at risk like that,” Echo answered, popping up again. “In general, ‘Falls’ is used to describe worlds within a particular vector space that have either dangerously powerful magic inhabitants, hostile inhabitants, or both. There are worlds bordering the Ruins that aren’t Fall worlds.” “That… doesn’t really answer my question.” “Damage control,” Aleph explained. “Some Fall worlds are naturally self-limiting, while others… aren’t. Most forays into the Falls are to either ascertain the state of the world, or to effect precise changes to mitigate the possibility for Detachment Events” “Changes? Like what?” “Assassinations!” Echo cheerfully exclaimed, grinning lopsidedly. “Echo, do try not to scare the poor newbie,” Aleph admonished. “It’s not always assassinations.” “You kill ponies?” Twilight asked, eyes widening in shock. “You’re not going to last very long here if you have qualms about killing,” Echo stated, sneering. “I don’t want to kill anypony!” Twilight shouted, taking a step backward. “An attitude that isn’t all that strange, considering where you’re from,” Aleph conceded, trying to defuse the situation. “Slateform is an unnaturally quiet world by the standards of the Interior. Even throughout your history there was very little war or conflict, and many of the common defining attributes of Interior worlds are missing from yours. A naturally pacifistic culture is to be expected, given that environment.” “She wasn’t all that pacifistic back in Gate Three,” Echo said. “By the look of it, she was ready to take my head off.” “Echo, shut up. You’re not helping.” Aleph barked, glaring at Echo. “A lack of desire to kill is hardly something to sneer at.” “I don’t want to kill anypony…” Twilight repeated, whimpering. “Oh, don’t be like that,” Aleph sighed. “It’s fine. Echo’s just trying to rile you up. Our job isn’t about all about killing and death and mayhem. We’re explorers. Explorers that live somewhat at right angles to the world we explore, but explorers nonetheless. And sometimes it’s better to commit a small evil in the name of greater safety.” Echo snorted, but didn’t say anything, watching the exchange with detached amusement. “The greatest good that can be done in the world is by those who would stand up against those who would take from them their friends,” Twilight said, quietly. “Exactly!” “I learnt that from my brother,” Twilight admitted. “I never really understood it.” “Like I said, you’re from a quiet world. It’s bound to be a shock being thrown into our world.” “Oh, stop babying her,” Echo cut in, glaring at Twilight. “Here’s the long and short of it. The Interior is not the happy-go-lucky fun-fun-times world that you’re from. Ponies can and will try to kill you there, and they’ll succeed unless you’re willing to do what you’d not consider normally in order to defend yourself and those around you.” “I will not kill ponies,” Twilight reiterated forcefully, picking the pile of books up in the grip of her magic. “I am not going to marr myself like that!” “You say that now, little Twilight, but when the time comes you will either do what needs to be done, or you’ll lose everything.” Echo leaned in, a contemptuous sneer stretched across her features. “Until then, you’re your own worst enemy.” Twilight glared back for a moment, before turning to Aleph. “Thank you for your help, and the books.” With nary a look backwards, Twilight walked off, the tower of books floating faithfully along behind her as she departed.