//------------------------------// // Conversation Six // Story: A New Sun // by Ragnar //------------------------------// Watching someone open a path between dimensions should have been interesting. It wasn't. Mag sat on the grass a few feet from the back with her forearms resting on her knees. “How long does this usually take again?” Celestia stood in the water up to a little above her fetlocks, staring intently down at her own reflection. “As I've said twice already, it takes as long as it takes.” Mag dug through her purse for something to do. “I'm more looking for a status update, here.” “The status is that I haven't seen a frayed edge yet, and my friend keeps distracting me. The status was the same last time you asked how long this is going to take, and the status will be the same the next time you ask.” “Frayed edge?” “No reflection is perfect. Look for the tiny inconsistencies between the reflection and the world it reflects, and you've found the frayed edge.” Celestia had relaxed as she spoke. She seemed to like teaching. Mag pointed. “The water is rippling and it makes you look goofy. There, an inconsistency.” “Inconsistencies, not imperfections in the reflective surface. A hair of my mane in the wrong place. A cloud that's too far to the southeast. A faint light or distant face. Have you ever seen something strange in a mirror out of the corner of your eye? That was the frayed edge of reality.” “Because I'd entered... The Twilight Zone,” said Mag dramatically. “Do they have TV in Equestria? No, probably not, because you didn't compare my computer to a television. But do you have film? Moving pictures?” “Projected moving pictures,” said Celestia. She hadn't blinked since she'd started. “Cool,” said Mag. “I should show you Youtube when we get back. We can do a Twilight Zone marathon. Hey, have you considered trying to surprise your reflection by doing something it wouldn't expect?” “Yes. Most dimension travelers try that at some point. It doesn't work, unfortuna—there!” Celestia plunged her head into the water. The water didn't splash, and the waves of the lake passed through her neck as if it weren't there. “Weird. What now?” Celestia flicked her tail. “What's that mean?” Celestia flicked her tail again, more insistently. Mag got up. “You want me to follow you? Sure.” She stepped offshore and her shoes filled up with near-freezing water. “Blah! You couldn't have mentioned how cold this was?” Celestia flicked her tail once again. “Okay, how about this? If I'm doing the thing you want me to do, flick your tail up. If not, then to the side.” Celestia flicked her tail diagonally. “That means I sort of am and sort of aren't, right?” Celestia flicked her tail up. “Can I get another hint?” Celestia whipped Mag lightly on the leg with her tail. “Oh, come on. I'm the one with wet socks. I'll catch my death in this.” Celestia, still holding her head in place, sidestepped clockwise until her tail was next to Mag's hand. “Grab your tail?” Mag did. Now Celestia stepped forward and Mag followed her into deeper, colder water. Celestia's white back tilted as if she were going sharply downhill and then disappeared under the water. Mag took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The cold was hellish. Mag wondered for a few painful moments whether Celestia was who she said she was, or if Mag had in fact fallen for the schemes of a kelpie with extremely circuitous hunting methods. Then there was light, followed by the vertigo that naturally came with gravity suddenly moving 90 degrees. Mag fell into warm grass and curled into a ball around her waterlogged purse. “C-c-cold,” said Mag. Celestia stood above her. “I beg your pardon for not warning you. I also wish I'd told you what to do next after I saw the edge, but we worked it out, so things turned out all right. Here, this should help.” Celestia's horn glowed. Water crawled across Mag's skin and out of her clothes, pooling around her. Mag pulled herself halfway up, staggered a few feet away from the water, and dropped back down into a ball. “Still cold?” Celestia's horn glowed again and the air warmed around them. Eventually Mag uncurled herself and opened her eyes. She lay on a grassy hill under an overcast sky of goldenrod clouds. Door-sized standing mirrors littered the hill, one every few yards in every direction, all of them unassumingly reflecting the grass and sky. Every mirror was framed and every frame was different. Celestia lay next to her on her belly, watching and waiting. A slow, dry breeze drifted down the hill. “Better?” said Celestia. “My phone is probably done for and I just soaked most of a pack of cigarettes, but other than that, yeah,” said Mag. She examined the mirror they'd come through and was disappointed to discover that for the most part it was just a mirror. It reflected Mag back at herself (brown hair in a ponytail, thin lips, slouching a bit) standing in the grass, with Celestia behind. Her reflection did nothing untoward so far as Mag could see, blinking as she blinked and shifting as she shifted. The frame of the mirror was a point of interest, at least. Persons unknown had carved words and phrases into the wood in a variety of languages. Mag recognized some of the languages, but some were more alien. Some were impossible. One, a chain of interlocking hexagons with each link filled with blobby shapes, seemed to have altered slightly every time Mag glanced back at it. One was in French. None were in English. Mag looked at Celestia in the mirror. “Where do these come from? What do they mean?” “Travelers will sometimes leave notes on mirrors for each other. Small pieces of advice. Attempts to characterize the inhabitants.” Celestia pointed at the hexagons. “'The people of thirst.'” Then, at the French sentence. “'Enter in peace, but at arms.'” At a vertical column of shallow, serpentine scratches. “'The hollow lords.'” At a pair of pictograms so old that the breeze had eroded them as smooth as if they'd been sanded. “'Save them.'” Mag traced those last words with her finger. They were the oldest message there. Celestia approached. “This is the Valley of Mirrors. There are other places a reflection might lead to, but most lead here. It's the safest In-Between I know of for mortal travelers, but don't let your guard down. I only mean it's safer than, say, the Gray Sea or the Walled Path, and that isn't a difficult hurdle.” “What should I look out for?” “Other travelers, or things you don't understand.” “I don't understand anything here,” said Mag. “Then stay close and keep asking questions,” said Celestia. Mag moved in close. “What's at the bottom of the valley?” “A lake,” said Celestia. “Does the lake have a reflection?” “Yes, and the world it leads to is used as a kind of quarantine zone for dangerous artifacts,” said Celestia. “Let me guess. No touchy?” The corner of Celestia's mouth twitched. “Yes, no touchy. In fact, let that be your mantra so long as we're out of your world. When in doubt, no touchy.” “Cool. So, just to confirm, I'm completely and utterly out of my depth here, right?” “You have no idea,” said Celestia. “Shall we?” “Yeah, I'm starting to think we shouldn't screw around,” said Mag. “Then you're paying attention. Now that you're ready, we're going to teleport.” Mag stepped back. “What?” “Equestria is a great distance away, and we didn't bring food, drink, or supplies of any kind. Walking isn't feasible.” “Teleporting??” “It's perfectly safe,” said Celestia. “How do you know? How does it work?” “I know it's safe because some ponies can teleport if they work hard enough at it, and nopony has ever been hurt in transit,” said Celestia. “As for how it works, understanding it even in layman's terms would require you to have more senses than you seem to. Simply put, it's magic. I'll cast a spell that takes us from one location to another without our having to pass through the intervening space.” “Okay, but how does it work? Does it break us down into particles, whizz us off to where we're going, and then put us back together?” “No, it leaves the teleporting object or person intact. It's painless and instantaneous. There are no risks.” “I don't—” then Mag realized what Celestia had just said and nearly collapsed with laughter. “'Nopony?' Seriously?” Celestia frowned. “Is there a problem?” Mag covered her grin with her hand. “No, no problem. Just another sugar rush. Hey, you know what? I feel all right about this now. Do your thing.” First they were somewhere, and then they were somewhere else. It was as simple as that. “My world,” said Celestia. She did not sound enthused. This part of the valley looked more or less the same, right down to the positioning of the nearby mirrors, except for two things. Firstly, the slope of the hill had pitched a few degrees. Secondly, the mirror they now stood in front of didn't reflect the valley. Instead it showed an endless, starless night. The wooden frame was carved with new and different messages. This time, one was in English: “The beloved.” Mag didn't ask about the rest. “After I cast a few spells on you, this will likely be the least dangerous part of the trip. There is nothing left to hurt you, after all.” Celestia tried to smile and failed. “This one will let you breathe.” Her horn glowed and something like a yellowish soap bubble appeared around Mag's head. “This will protect against the lack of air pressure, which, believe me, is far more important than it sounds.” The glow continued. Something almost but not quite like cloth wrapped itself snugly around Mag's hands and clothes. “A space suit?” said Mag, looking at the cloth closely. “A fan of speculative fiction, I see,” said Celestia. Mag smirked. “Guess again. Humans have gone to space a bunch of times. We've even landed on the moon.” Celestia raised an eyebrow. “You're joking again.” “We have video evidence. I'll show you later.” Celestia studied Mag's face. Her other eyebrow lifted to make a matching pair with the first. “You're serious.” “Ha! Yeah, it's awesome. We totally went to the moon, hopped around a bit, planted a flag, drove a little golf cart thing, tossed a ball back and forth, and went back home. When we all finally kill each other and there's nothing left but the roaches, there'll still be that flag on the moon.” Celestia rested a hoof on her cheek. “My word.” She said it with no irony at all. “It happened because my country got into a space race with another country called the USSR because of a rivalry about economic principles. It's a long story.” “And now I want to see a few of your history books,” said Celestia. She glanced at the black mirror. The light died in her eyes again. Mag clapped her hands. “Come on. We get this over with, we go home, you run your tests, and then it's movie night.” Celestia bowed her head and clenched her eyes shut. Mag hesitated, then laid a hand on Celestia's neck. “This isn't going to take that long, right?” said Mag. “No,” said Celestia quietly. “And it'll help you get them back?” “Possibly,” said Celestia. “Well... whenever you're ready,” said Mag. Celestia opened her eyes. She looked paler than usual, if that was possible, but determined. “Yes, of course it's possible. This has to be done. I have one more spell, and then, I'm sorry, but you'd better climb on my back again.” Some tiny, starved little part of Mag's soul, the part that wanted seventeen kittens and wished it could fly, kept insisting that riding on Celestia's back was the bestest thing to ever happen to her and she should take every opportunity to repeat the experience. The rest of her dreaded it. Celestia was too small to ride comfortably, wasn't wearing a saddle, and didn't have anything Mag could really hang onto. If there was a way to do it that didn't end in pain, Mag hadn't found it. “That's fine,” sighed Mag. “Or I could try riding on your shoulders,” said Celestia. “You joke, but I'll bet it'd be about as pleasant either way.” “We can experiment later. Now, as you said, let's get this over with. The last spell changes how gravity affects you. Here you are.” Celestia's horn flared one more time. Mag didn't feel any different until she lifted her arm, at which point she floated slowly upward. Mag flailed. “Ah! What? Save me!” Celestia grabbed Mag with her magic, sat her down on her back, and held her in place. “Your science hasn't found a way to do that, I take it. It's a small safety measure, in case you slip away from me. Now gravity will pull you to the nearest object as if that object were solid ground, regardless of that object's size, and, instead of pulling you harder as you get closer, it'll do the reverse. There should also be an effect that slows you down as you approach something, so you shouldn't be able to accelerate enough to harm yourself even if you somehow end up a thousand miles away from the nearest object.” “You're surprisingly well prepared.” “I once had another student who was fascinated with the idea of space. Starswirl extensively studied the nature of gravity and how magic interacted with it. He never made it to space, but he truly believed somepony would someday, and he did reams upon reams of original spellwork to ensure that ponykind was prepared.” “And so you are,” said Mag. “Yes. One more thing: we unfortunately won't be able to speak without air.” “I know,” said Mag. “Do you think I can leave my purse here?” “Without it being stolen, do you mean? I wouldn't worry. Travelers aren't so common, and they would likely be too cautious to touch an unfamiliar object in this place.” Mag leaned over as well as she could from Celestia's back and let go of her purse. The gravity spell hadn't affected it, so it dropped to the ground. “No big deal if it rains, since it's already full of lake water. Okay, I'm good.” “Then off we go.” Celestia stepped into the mirror. It wasn't like space. There were no stars and no light of any kind except from Celestia's horn, and the light fell on nothing. It was so quiet that Mag could hear her own rushing blood. Now Mag understood. This was the corpse of a universe. Mag realized Celestia hadn't moved. She floated in place, wings and legs slack. Mag couldn't say anything to her, so she leaned forward and hugged her as best she could, the bubble around Mag's head distorting enough to let Mag lay her brow in Celestia's mane. Celestia seemed to understand and raised her head, flapping her wings once. Where were they going? Celestia had said something about samples, but hadn't given any further details. Celestia's horn went out, and there was nothing to the world but the warmth of Celestia's fur. *** Now Celestia had gone and Mag floated alone in the cold black nothing. She touched the head-bubble and found it to be intact. The spells were holding. When had Celestia left? Mag must have fallen asleep. She supposed she should be afraid, but it was so peaceful now. For the first time in nearly a day the pressure in Mag's head was gone. She hadn't realized how heavy it had gotten. Now Celestia was gone and there was no one but herself. There was nothing left to worry about. No responsibilities, no one to speak to her, no one to upset or disappoint, nothing to clean because this was the cleanest place in all the worlds. When had she last felt this calm? Tuesday night in the town jail a few days after her 17th birthday. No, one of the guards had tried to strike up a conversation that night and wouldn't go away, and then someone in the drunk tank had moaned the entire night. At home on the weekend with nowhere to be? No, there was always, always something that needed doing, just one more thing, and then another. Had it been... never? How would Celestia find her? In fact, how had Celestia lost her? Maybe the dark had eaten Celestia just as it had eaten her world. If that had happened, would her spells still work? But it was possible Celestia was gone. Mag wondered why this didn't upset her. She could admit, at least in the privacy of her own mind at the center of death's empty heart, that she had loved Celestia on sight. Celestia was everything she didn't believe in. She was meaning and purpose, understanding, selflessness. There was that set of touchingly unrealistic moral principles that, so far as Mag knew, she had held throughout all her interminable life. Yes, it was only reasonable that she had faded away and would never come back. The only puzzle was how someone—ha, “somepony”—could last so long, how the real world could tolerate someone like that. And Mag would die here, of course. It was probably her own fault. But Celestia wasn't there to grieve over it, so it wasn't so bad. “Who goes there?” Mag flinched. “You have wandered far from your proper place, mortal.” Mag looked around, but saw no lights. “Where are you and how are you talking?” And what had she been thinking a moment ago? Suddenly it seemed so pointlessly maudlin. And surely Celestia was all right. Right? I am nowhere, anymore. “Really? Because if I can hear you, and the only thing I can hear is my thoughts, then it seems like you're in my head. That's not nowhere.” “It matters not. Now identify yourself. What manner of creature are you, and why do you trespass here?” “My name is Mag.” Acting on a hunch, she added, “I'm here with your sister.” Ah, yes. Now there was a new aura pressing close. It wasn't so unlike Celestia's, with that same sense of silent song. This one made her think of music boxes. There were differences, however. Celestia's aura was overwhelming; her sister's was hypnotic and comparatively subtle. What was her name again? “DO NOT MOCK ME. My sister and all my world has gone. I swear upon the memory of the stars that I will fill thee with a lifetime of waking nightmares if—” “No, seriously,” said Mag. “She's fine. I don't know where she is right this second, but I think she's somewhere in Equestria collecting samples. She's going to die of happiness when she sees you.” A pause. My sister is truly alive? “Yeah, can you find her somehow? And bring me with you. She probably wants me back, and I want to see her face when you guys meet.” “Truly? My sister is alive?” “Yep,” said Mag. "Truly??" “Yeah, can you find her?” There was no answer. “Don't forget me,” said Mag. “Alive,” said Celestia's sister damply. "She's alive? She's alive! She's alive!! And the others?" “We're, uh, well, we're working on that one,” said Mag. “Would that I could help you. There is nothing left of me but a dream, and you and I wouldn't even be able to speak if I hadn't caused you to sleep. Yet you've changed the flavor of my confinement with this news of my sister, and for that I thank you. You say your name is Mag? I shall remember it.” “What, you're giving up? Let's work this out. We can get you out of here, I'll bet. Can you hitch a ride in my brain somehow?” “Yes, I believe I could, but what then? Will you carry me around in your head for the rest of your life? I myself have been possessed in the past, and I have no wish to visit that experience on any other being, however willing.” “You think I'm going to leave you here? Dude, it's fine. You want me to wake up and tell your sister I found you and then didn't do anything about it? What do you think she'd say?” “She would tell you that you chose correctly, and that she is overjoyed to learn that I still live in some poor capacity. She will no doubt find a safe place for you, then come to visit me.” Mag crossed her arms. “I've been arguing with gods all day and I've won every time so far. Give up and hop into my brain.” “I'll not play into the self-annihilating impulses of some petulant human. I need simply wait for you to awaken, and our disagreement shall end.” “Oh, you know what I am?” “Yes, I now recall that my sister once told me of a distant world housing a species of plains apes in the rough shape of chimpanzees, but elongated in the same way the giraffe is an elongated goat. Warriors, she called you, and slavers. She praised your invention and adaptability but ultimately advised a policy of avoidance. Now I see your mind, and, in all candor, I have as little wish to dwell in the dreams of a human as I do to impose myself on the psyche of another.” “You can read my mind?” “Read it? We are in it. All that you see here is what you brought with you.” Mag looked around. “Yeah, well, I can't see anything, unless that's what you're getting at, in which case that's an impressively dramatic thing to say. But I'm still right.” “Let us say you are. what do you propose to do about it?” said the princess, amused. “Bicker about it until you agree.” “Then do continue making your argument. I shall simply wait in silence until—” *** Mag woke up. She lay in the tall grass again under the yellow clouds, and Celestia was shaking her. “Mag! Mag! What happened?” “Your sister is still alive,” Mag muttered. God, it was bright here. Celestia gasped. “You're all right. Oh, thank goodness, you're all right. I don't know what I would have done if I'd led you to your death. What did you say?” Mag's mouth opened without her permission and said, “I'm alive, sister.” It was her own voice, but the intonations and pronunciations were different. Celestia's face was a picture. “Ooh, I win after all,” said Mag in her own voice. “What's up, other princess? Did you change your mind?” Now the other princess spoke in her head. “No, but it appears I never had a choice in the matter. You have indeed won, but only by default. And it now occurs to me that, though I am an unwilling guest, it is wrong to hijack the use of your voice without your permission. Human, may I speak with my sister for a little while?” Of course, Mag thought to the princess. “Hello? Can you hear me?” said the other princess in Mag's head. “Oh, I thought you'd be able to hear my thoughts,” said Mag. “Yeah, go ahead.” Having someone else use Mag's mouth was by far the strangest thing she had ever felt. “I am all right, sister, and I'm overjoyed to see you. I thought I was all that remained of Equestria.” Celestia shook off her astonishment and said, “What happened? How are you doing this? I miss your face, Luna. Where are you?” “Alas, all that's left of me is my dreaming self, which this human now holds in her mind, and we must be content with that. As for what happened to Equis, I know nothing except what I witnessed from the edge of dreams.” “I remember that you were asleep,” said Celestia. “Maybe that's how you survived. Did you find other dreamers after the world ended?” “No, only the formless, gray remains of Dreamland, and I was alone there until I found the dreams of this mortal—the contents of which I will not describe to anyone, human Mag, so you needn't fear for your privacy,” said Luna. “Thanks,” said Mag. “Good, I can take my mouth back whenever I need it. Hey, you know, you were worried, but I'm feeling okay with this so far. Anyway, don't mind me. You guys keep talking.” “I promise you the novelty will wear thin,” said Luna. It seemed unfair that Luna could talk to Mag silently while Mag had to speak. “I shall do whatever I can to make this less difficult, but I think a time will come when we each regret today.” “I didn't anticipate this at all,” said Celestia. “Mag, are you sure you're all right?” “I think I am. I don't feel different or anything. Question: did this happen because I wanted it to?” Luna answered Mag out loud, again speaking with Mag's own mouth. “No. This is a phenomenon caused by the freak intersection of forces, and however this happened, I can't imagine that our wishes played a part. Mine certainly didn't. Unless you have some sovereignty over dreams?” “Nope, I never even remember my dreams. Well, at least that means it's no one's fault if this all turns tragic somehow,” said Mag. “No one's fault, and yet our responsibility to prevent,” said Celestia. “I concur. Take this seriously, Mag.” Mag picked up her sopping purse and threw it at the back of another mirror. It bounced off with a slapping noise and spilled wet change into the grass. “Take this seriously? How? I'm permanently brain-pregnant with an extradimensional horse queen of the night.” “Pony.” “Yeah, that.” Mag leaned her shoulder against the mirror. She banged her temple against it a couple of times, trying to bludgeon a bit of sense into things in general. It didn't work. “You see, this kind of situation is what we in the business of apathy call 'fatal but not serious.' I mean, yeah, fine, okay. Okay. I hereby officially acknowledge that, even though I still think this is the best way Luna's situation could have worked out short of Luna spontaneously growing a body, it's true that things could get ugly if it turns out I can't handle having a god riding shotgun in my head, and I've got to be proactive in learning how to handle it. That said, you have to admit this is ridiculous.” “I wouldn't call it that,” said Celestia. “And what would you call it? Something more positive and inspirational? Please don't say 'an opportunity.'” “I would call it step one.” “And step two is what?” “I don't know. Let's go and find out.” Celestia smiled encouragingly. “You two realize, do you not, that the In-Between is not a place for giving away one's position with protracted conversation, then standing still?” “So I'm told,” said Mag. Celestia raised a hoof. “You know what? I've already figured out step two. In step two, we find a way for the three of us to have a conversation without me missing every other thing my little sister says.” “She says this isn't the place to talk about this.” Celestia teleported them back to Earth's mirror instead of answering; Mag's purse landed next to her. Celestia leaned in to whisper, “Luna is right. We need to be more cautious than we were just now. As a matter of fact it would be best if we were quiet until we've returned to Earth, in case something has picked up on our presence.” “Your breath smells like Doritos,” Mag whispered back. Celestia turned to the mirror, but looked back and waved her tail near Mag's hand. Mag grabbed it. “Keep watch,” whispered Celestia, and fixed her gaze on her own reflection. Mag knelt to pick up her purse. “What am I watching for?” she said, quietly enough that it only reached her own ears. “Changes in the light,” answered Luna. “Patches of grass moving against the wind. The voices of people you know who shouldn't be here.” Mag lowered her voice a bit more. “And that clicking sound?” Somewhere out among the mirrors there approached a complex, rhythmic, metallic clicking, like a wandering orchestra of scissors. It was impossible to tell how close it was. “Warn Celestia.” “Hear that?” whispered Mag. “Yes,” whispered Celestia, but didn't move, blink, or respond further. Mag tried moving her mouth without vocalizing at all. “Now what?” Luna didn't answer. She tried again in a whisper of a whisper. “Now what?” “We can only wait for Celestia to find the edge. It is too late to flee, except into a mirror. There is nothing we can do to disguise our presence from it, for the collectors can feel both of your heartbeats through the vibrations in the ground. Combat is not an option.” “Not an option? For Celestia?” “Soft, human. Softly. We have attracted the attention of one creature already.” “Mm.” “Good.” “Mm?” “Combat is not an option because, when a collector is injured, the others come. All of them.” “Gck.” “You grasp the situation.” The clicks were getting distinctly louder. Mag glimpsed a tendril in the distance, a whirring chaos of struts and wires—and then Celestia stepped into the mirror. Mag clenched the tip of Celestia's tail and darted after her. The cold was even worse now that she was expecting it. Mag scrambled to reorient herself in those liminal, airless seconds, breached the surface of the lake and drank in the sight of the Earthly sky. Celestia hovered over Mag on her great swan's wings, lifted her out, and flew her to shore, where she performed the same drying and warming spells she had before. When Mag felt alive enough to talk again, she said, “Tomorrow I'm going down the hill to buy a full length mirror that we can keep in the living room. We can use that from now on, instead of this ice-water freaking lake.” “Every edge is cold, and a new path is always dangerous to pass through, but it's possible to get lucky. Perhaps you'll find a worthwhile mirror.” “Mag?” “Yeah?” “May I borrow the rest of your body? Please, for a few minutes only. Just that.” “Sure.” Mag relaxed and Luna took over. Luna drew in and then let go of a shaking breath. She closed Mag's eyes, breathed deep again, smoother now, and breathed out. Then once again, in, out. Mag felt it all. Luna tried to stand, but fell forward onto Mag's hands. “Sister,” she said. Celestia helped her up. Luna stood straight for a bare second and then fell to her knees. She touched Celestia's shoulder. They hugged. “We are alive,” said Luna. “And together,” said Celestia. “Then we are home.”