When Mrs. Cake decided nothing serious was going on and went back to taking the treats over to Town Hall, Pinkie set up the party in the library again. This was less because she was looking for a way to make things work, and more because she had no idea what else she was supposed to do. All around, ponies were walking along familiar paths, as if they were attached to tracks that only she could see. They would never stop moving like that, unless she pushed them in a new direction. But what would that matter if the cycle of death and time would never end?
Everything went right. She nudged a platter so that it ran parallel to the table edge. We got the Elements. We stopped Nightmare Moon. We all became friends … even Dash. So why are we doing this again?
“How am I doing this again?” Her hooves clip-clopped as she paced around in a broad circle. “I haven’t even been looping over a full twenty-four-hour period at the longest, and it’s still been taking forever. Forever …”
She trailed off, coming to a stop. Above, a clock ticked obliviously.
“Is that it?” Her voice cracked. “I’m stuck in this forever?”
No, that can’t be it. There has to be something we’re meant to do. But what?
“What else can there be? It doesn’t get worse than Nightmare Moon.”
“What does Nightmare Moon have to do with anything?”
“Thunderlane! Nothing, I was just talking to myself. Come in, come in! Flitter, those cheese puffs look great!”
Ponies filed in, and for the moment the loop was concealed in bright colors of celebration. But it remained, unforgotten, beneath the surface of Pinkie’s thoughts.
The victory over the nightmare was simple enough to replicate — at least, it was simple now that Pinkie knew how to get from one point to the next. So when the colors came down and the cold dissolved into warmth again, her sense of accomplishment was a little diminished.
“I never really appreciated how beautiful the sun is,” Mr. Cake remarked, trailing with his wife as Pinkie led them outside. “It feels like we were down in that basement forever.”
“Don’t be silly!” Pinkie leaned out of the way of a passing foal, feeling jumpy. “Feeling like forever and actually forever are two very different things.”
The Cakes were introduced to Princess Celestia, who was happy to meet with the employers of the Bearer of Laughter. Pinkie smiled and nodded, saying nothing as the conversation went on, and eventually withdrawing entirely. She simply watched with empty eyes as ponies came and went, going about their business pleasantly.
She had nearly fallen asleep on her hooves when a cheer roused her to alertness. Looking around, she saw her friends draw together with expressions of glee, while Princess Celestia narrated a letter to Spike, who was transcribing with wide eyes.
“Isn’t it great, Pinkie?” Twilight’s smile slipped at the seriousness on her friend's face. “Pinkie?”
“I didn’t hear,” she said, trotting over. “What’s up?”
“I’m going to be staying in Ponyville to learn the magic of friendship. Now I can be with you girls all the time!”
“You already are.”
“What?”
“Nothing! That’s great, it really is.” Pinkie tried to be enthusiastic. Then a thought occurred to her. “So, anything specific you have planned? Any big event, or some other world-threatening evil?”
Twilight tapped her chin. “I don’t think so. It should be a pretty uneventful time here.”
“Not while I’m around!” Dash gloated. “You’ll be seein’ this pegasus in the Wonderbolts before next summer!”
Everypony rolled their eyes.
Pinkie cocked her head to the side. “So nothing that could potentially stop everything from happening again forever?”
Rarity frowned. “Pinkie, is there something we need to know?”
“Of course not. It’s not like it’d matter anyway.”
Applejack and Fluttershy exchanged a look.
“I think,” said Celestia, with a tone like somepony navigating a minefield, “you’ll have a marvelous time in Ponyville, Twilight. I’m proud of you.” She smiled. “I think I see a pie over there that’s calling to me. I’ll leave you to your friends, shall I?” She turned, briefly catching Pinkie’s eye before making her way to a table.
As the ponies began to discuss their victory for the twelfth time, Pinkie sidled away to follow the princess. Celestia paused for a moment, looking over the pie again, before selecting a cupcake instead.
“You seem troubled,” she said, delicately peeling the wrapper from the pastry.
Pinkie sighed. “Princess, you don’t know the half of it.”
“Is it anything you’d like to talk about?”
“You wouldn’t believe it.”
“I’ve seen quite a few strange things over the past millennia. You might be surprised.” She smiled down at Pinkie, one eye obscured by her flowing mane. “Somewhere more private, perhaps?”
Not far away was the park, which was currently playing host to few ponies; the residents of Ponyville were more interested in celebrating the triumph of the sun with their neighbors than in breaking off into their usual groups. It was here, on a well-kept lawn, that the princess and the party pony took their places, settling down on the fresh-cut grass.
Watching a pony trot down the street, Pinkie began. “It’s like … you know when you’re doing something, and you swear you’ve done it already? That’s how it is with me, except that it really is happening. Life is repeating for me, starting with yesterday afternoon.”
“Could you elaborate, perhaps?”
Pinkie told her of death. She told her of the warmth of cupcakes yet to be frosted, and of two hands pinching the number three between them. She told her of meeting ponies she had before only known in passing, and of Twilight’s determination to find the truth. With hesitance, she told of Nightmare Moon’s cold gaze and malevolent laughter, remembering the terror unleashed upon Equestria for longer than anypony knew.
She took a deep breath, and noticed the princess regarding her with an inscrutable expression. “You don’t believe any of this, do you?”
“It’s not a situation I’m familiar with,” Celestia said diplomatically.
“I can’t prove it to you, I know. Unless you have a secret code word that you can tell me so that when I start over again I can tell it to you?”
She looked apologetic. “I don’t.”
“Figures.” Pinkie examined her hooves. “Well, thanks for listening, at least.”
“I’ve been doing more than that.”
Pinkie looked up, realizing that the princess’ horn was glowing. “How long has that been going on?”
“Since you started telling me about your situation. It’s difficult to believe, yes, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anything strange going on.” Celestia blinked, and the magic faded. “From what I can tell, there isn’t any spell affecting you.”
“There isn’t?” She rubbed her chin. “Then what does it mean?”
“I don’t know.” There was a little frown on Celestia’s face. “I’m unsure what to tell you, Pinkie Pie. You don’t seem like the kind of pony to lie. It escapes me, though, what other options there are.”
“I could be crazy,” Pinkie pointed out. A harsh laugh escaped her. “That would sure explain a lot of things, wouldn’t it? Isn’t insanity doing the same thing and expecting different results?”
A white hoof rested on Pinkie’s shoulder. “Whatever is going on, you shouldn’t give up. Everything happens for a reason.”
“Is that supposed to be comforting?” Pinkie blanched. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s all right. You’re strained, I know. But you can still overcome this, whatever it is. Perhaps there is something that must be accomplished.”
“Something besides Nightmare Moon? It can’t get worse than her.”
Celestia’s eyes focused on something distant. “Things can always be worse. But we can always make the best of it.” She looked to Pinkie. “What will you do?”
“I don’t know. What can I do?”
“If it helps, I would be happy to open the palace library to you. It might help you find some answers.”
“I’ll think about it.” Pinkie wasn’t sure how a library would help if even the princess couldn’t find anything wrong, but she decided not to simply brush off the possibility. She filed it away for another time.
They made their way back to the bulk of the party, passing by ponies who sank into deep bows at the sight of Celestia. Ahead, the other princess was in deep discussion with Fluttershy, who looked distinctly uncomfortable, fidgeting and occasionally fluttering her guarded wings.
“There is a power within you,” Luna was saying. She leaned in, eyes alight; the bowl of oatmeal in her grasp dripped slowly. “The power has been within you all along, for how else could one have earned the Element of Magic? It is a privilege only my dear sister has had in the past. What will you do with that power?”
Fluttershy’s eyes darted to the side. “I, um, don’t really know. I’m not even sure how it works, having Magic.”
“Surely your pegasus powers are beyond compare?”
“Oh, that’s not it. Rainbow Dash is better at those kinds of things in every way. It seems more like … well, like I carry the key to the magic of friendship. Apparently I bring out the best in ponies.”
Luna looked unimpressed.
“... But maybe I’ll have more literal magic in the future?”
“It is a distinct possibility.” Luna took a bite. “I shall watch you intensely.”
“W-what?”
“I did not say a thing, friendly Fluttershy. You have no reason to fear … no reason to love.”
Celestia chuckled at the conversation. “My sister may need time to adjust to this new era.”
“No kidding,” Pinkie agreed. “I mean, oatmeal? Are you crazy?”
Luna cast a cool gaze upon her. “I find that it is sustenance enough when one has not eaten in a thousand years.”
“Uh …”
“What I think Pinkie means to say,” Celestia said, “is that this is a time to celebrate the things that make a pony happy. There’s no reason not to enjoy the Cakes’ work.”
“That is a fair point. Still, I …”
Pinkie drifted away from the conversation. She considered Applejack, who was offering passing ponies her homemade treats. She considered Rarity, who had paused to restitch an old hat for a crying foal. She considered Dash and Twilight, who were exchanging stories of past adventures and future desires.
“They all think this will continue,” she said to herself. “But it can’t. This will stop, and it’ll never have happened in the first place. I can try to break past that, and to get them where they want to go, but if it just resets anyway, what’s the point?”
She looked around. Cobbler met her gaze, and sent her a friendly wave. Cloudchaser chased Rumble as he galloped off with a large balloon. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle sat at a table, laughing at some unheard anecdote. Across the square, a blue unicorn scribbled something in a notebook, her focus lighting her features from within.
“The point …” Pinkie rubbed her forehead. “They’re living their lives, and they do the best they can. To them, everything’s sunshine and rainbows. Maybe I can’t share in their good times, not entirely … but I can always make them better. Isn’t that what friends do?” She smiled. “It’s not like I don’t have all the time in the world to figure things out.”
With only slight hesitance, she trotted off to talk to Applejack. Overhead, the warmth of the sun made its way across the sky, moving with an uncertain certainty as the day wore on.