//------------------------------// // ■□ The Mare Who Never Lost Her Way □■ // Story: Table for Two // by KitsuneRisu //------------------------------// Scootaloo tapped her hoof on the table. Over time, her sadness had subsided, turning first to anger, then to frustration, from there to irritation, and then finally back to anger because she worked that way, but eventually a calm came about her – a lingering, tumultuous calm – upon which The Owner finally dared to tread; testing these old waters for the opportunity to proceed. “You have questions,” he offered, steepling his hooves as he sat, with a general look of repose, across from Scootaloo. “Yeah. Quite a lot of them.” “You will not understand.” “Oh, don’t give me that,” Scootaloo snapped. “You said you’d give me answers.” “And I shall. But me being able to explain and you being able to accept them are two different things.” “Just try. Please. All this… I mean, you get it, don’t you? From the very start I’ve trusted you. I’ve followed along with this because you said that if I don’t I’ll die. But I still know so little! What am I seeing? Why am I going to die? There’s so much that I just need to know right now. And you’re kinda the only person here who can tell me.” “Very well. I shall try my best. I shall… attempt it to put it in words you understand. But where do you want to begin?” Scootaloo gave it a small moment of thought. This was the kind of thing that had many questions coming in from many directions. But there was always a good place to start. “Alright,” she said. “The basics. Let’s go through it again. Why am I here? From your side of things. Tell it to me from your side.” The Owner nodded. “What does an experience mean to you?” “An experience? It’s just a thing, right? Something we all go through. Something that happened, and we’ve seen it, or registered it or whatever. We can look back on them and… I guess remember them. Something like that.” “Yes. Now, imagine, if you will, that experiences were not tied to the ones having them. Someone else could have an experience that you had. You could have an experience that belonged to someone else.” “That’s… just impossible.” Scootaloo shrugged. “As I said.” The Owner raised his eyebrows. “You would not under–” “No! Alright. I do. I’ll… okay.” Scootaloo held out her hoof. “Experiences aren’t tied to the ones having them. Perfectly logical.” The Owner cleared his throat. “I was alerted to your situation when a collection of experiences travelled through time and space and forced their way into your brain. An ‘errant bolt of experience’, if you will. In essence, this meant that you had experienced these events before, although you hadn’t.” “So… basically I went through something although I’ve never done them before.” “Yes. Your mind struggled to make sense of it, which caused your initial pain, while the universe would try to correct this by putting you in those events by attempting to shift things around. Both are impossible for the universe or for you to achieve. And this is why we have to intervene.” “Wait, hold up a moment…” Scootaloo rubbed the bridge of her muzzle. “Wasn’t it a thing that the universe always tries to correct itself if something went wrong? Something like that?” “Oh no. Not at all. The universe is a fairly useless, fragile thing. It’s just as logical as you are. The universe would understand what we do as much as you are capable of.” “Huh.” “Yes. We take care of things. I’m here to take care of you. As mentioned before, we have to equalize you by making you experience the things that you have already experienced. That way, your mind will be happy, the universe will be happy, and you will no longer collapse inward upon yourself like a miniature black hole, erasing yourself from time and space in all directions. And believe me, that is a mess to clean up.” The Owner tilted his head forward in a slight bow. “Well.” Scootaloo smacked her lips. “No need to be so cavalier about it.” “Do you understand your predicament?” “I guess so. In a way. So, where did these… other experiences come from?” “I do not know.” “Oh, come on, you said you’d–” “It comes from a place that I cannot yet see.” “But surely you can see through time, can’t you?” “Well, that is a gross assumption.” The Owner leaned back slightly. “Yeah, but you can, right?” “Yes.” The Owner nodded. “So why can’t you see it?” “Because it hasn’t happened yet. Your… kind seems to enjoy thinking of time as a linear thing with fixed points. But time is a three-dimensional construct. Things are always changing other things, and sometimes the effects don’t happen in the future until it’s happened already in the past.” “I… have no idea what you just said.” “Alright. Let me explain it this way. Let us assume that I travel back in time from point A to point B, point A being the time that I left, and point B being a time in the past that I arrive.” “Got it.” “I arrive there with a friend, and drop him off. I tell him to assassinate a figure of great importance that will affect the timeline and surely will change the future in some subtle way. Let us make these assumptions as truth – that he will be successful at exactly one hour after I leave him, and that the future will be changed as a result of this action.” “Alright. Following so far.” “After dropping him off, I leave point B and arrive back at point A. What do you expect I will return to?” “Well, your friend did something in the past, so the future past that point is all affected, right? So… the future will be changed.” “That is the linear way of thinking.” “I’m wrong?” Scootaloo pursed her lips. “When I go back, I will have one hour before the effects of the past will start to change the future. He would take one hour in the past to effect that change, and I will have one hour in the future to let the effects take shape.” “No, but… something that happens in the past always affects the future. That’s… just logic, isn’t it?” “Perhaps. But that is not how it works. You see, time is less of an importance than you realise. Sometimes, time runs parallel with itself. Events happen at different points of time at the same time. It’s all rather complex. I wouldn’t try thinking too much about it. We have entire departments in the Prism dedicated to the mere task of monitoring this. What is more important is the fact that everything has a cause, and everything has an effect, and everything is relative to each other beyond time and space. “As of now, I do not know what the event is exactly, for it has yet to happen, although I can narrow it down to what I have already told you. Something of great importance happened in or around this cafe – which will probably exist at some point in the future. The original event was most likely related to two characters having a talk. This event was strong enough to send these errant experiences hurtling through time and space to a random location, where it sought you out and hit you.” “Okay. So… something’s gonna happen… this ‘event’, and I suffered for it in the past.” Scootaloo mumbled to herself, trying to keep up. “But why me, though? Why did it target me?” “Because you are most certainly a part of the event. In some way, form, or capacity, you are involved.” The Owner said. “Wait. No, wait,” Scootaloo stammered. “Me? You said… you said it wasn’t me.” “No. You asked me if I could show you the event. I said I couldn’t, because it didn’t belong to you.” “But doesn’t it?” “It doesn’t belong to me either.” “Oh right. It hasn’t… happened yet.” “Yes. I do apologize for having to state it at such, but under the circumstances, it was essential that I get you to agree to doing this in the shortest time possible. Luckily, we are at a point where we have more room to speak.” “Yeah. A conversation.” Scootaloo huffed. She felt irritated, and nothing more. It was a burning question, but it was one that wouldn’t be answered. “I apologize, once more. But all I can say is that it might happen quite soon, from your perspective.” “I just can’t wrap my head around this,” Scootaloo groaned. “I mean, how could something be affected by something that is going to happen?” “That is the nature of the experience, is it not? It’s all encompassing. We have expectations for things even though they have not happened yet. We have memories of things that are past. Altogether, the before, after, and during, they all come together to form a whole.” “But… that’s just all philosophical stuff!” Scootaloo raised her voice. “It’s not an explanation!” “It’s the best that I can give you. I do not mean to sound belittling, but–” “Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Scootaloo huffed in resignation. “I’m just a pony, right? Not some big shot prism whatever. I don’t deserve to understand.” The Owner fell silent, as he looked straight ahead, before he looked away, staring past the girl opposite, looking for something very far away. “Perhaps it is not something that deserves to be understood,” he said, after a moment’s consideration. “Whaddya mean by that?” “I was like you, once, before I took on this responsibility. This… job, as you would put it. And in the knowing of things, certain things are lost.” “Lost?” Scootaloo said, softer, this time, her frustrations melting. “As the old stories go, with knowledge comes the loss of innocence. And innocence is a place where one may work and live in happiness. It is a place where everyone has the potential to enjoy a relative bliss, of sorts.” “Well, I guess so. But… isn’t knowledge good?” “We all pay certain prices.” “But nothing you regret, I hope?” “No. That is something I am no longer capable of,” The Owner said, plainly. “Oh.” “Yes. And if you ever do see me happy, or if any customer here sees me happy, once again, it is merely because it is in their expectations to. It is never the truth.” “But what about right now?” Scootaloo asked. “What… who am I talking to right now? Is this the truth?” “That depends.” The Owner looked at Scootaloo, a slight hint of something shimmering behind his otherwise expressionless gaze. “How much do you expect that I will show my true self to you?” Scootaloo moved her mouth around, returning some moisture to the dry desert it had become. She breathed out, a long, lingering breath. “Alright. So. The other thing.” the pegasus bristled her wings, shifting in her seat. “If you don’t mind me… going on...” “Please proceed.” “That thing I just saw. The last experience I just saw.” “Yourself.” “Yeah. Myself. Now, I asked you this before, and you keep saying that all these things I’m seeing aren’t real. Right?” “Yes.” “But you also said that these experiences were someone else’s.” Scootaloo waved her legs around in the air slowly. “They… broke off, or whatever, because of the event, and flew into my mind. So, are they real or are they not?” “They are both.” “Both.” “There is no direct term for what they are in your language and understanding. But you could think of them as potential.” “Potential?” “Yes. They are the stories that might have been told, had this place existed. This cafe.” “But The Cafe doesn’t exist.” Scootaloo checked. “Not yet, no. But I should clarify. This is not to say that these events will definitely occur in the future. As you have pointed out, there are some things that you have seen which are unlikely to happen. Unlikely to occur.” “Yeah. Some of these things are just… I wouldn’t see them happen in any lifetime.” “What you see are things that might happen.” “Like… a different universe?” “No. No. Once again, I have said before, there are no other universes. There’s only one. You have to understand this.” “Tell me more.” “It is like looking into a reflection in a pond. What stares back is you, but ripples change the image. It is not exactly you, nor does it truly exist. Slight differences–” “No,” Scootaloo cut in. “Tell me more about the other universes.” “Ah.” Scootaloo tilted her head. “Something wrong?” “This is not a comfortable topic.” “Surely, it can’t be as bad as what we’ve already spoken about?” “It is not a comfortable topic,” The Owner repeated. “Are you certain you wish me to speak of it?” The pegasus looked downward for a moment, a second of guilt passing by as she even considered pursuing this thought. “Yes,” she said. “I do. I think… it’ll be okay.” The Owner, too, gave her the consideration of time. He gave her the chance to take a step backward. She did not. “Alright, then. I suppose this is an eventuality, regardless, for you to understand certain other concepts. So we shall speak of this, and then I shall speak of its relevance.” “Okay,” Scootaloo whispered, her nervousness not obscured behind her voice. “Now,” The Owner adjusted his glasses. “Long ago, it was decided by The Prism that there would be only one universe. The prism, as mentioned, are the ones who are… currently in charge. They are the caretakers of things, and the ones who live between. That is all.” Scootaloo nodded, listening intently. “At one point, when They Before still lived–” “They Before?” “That is what we call them.” The Owner kept his eyes on Scootaloo’s. He continued talking. “An infinite number of universes were kept. An infinite number of worlds. An infinite number of you. I believe you have heard of the theory that each action we take fragments the universe into an infinite number of varieties?” “Y-yes. Something like that.” “For each action any single thing would take, for each possible outcome of any one occurrence, there was a world that held that single, particular series of events.” “Y-yeah.” “When They Before left, and the Prism took over, it was decided after a long and serious consideration that the universes would be… deconstructed.” “Wait, what?” “One by one,” The Owner said, perhaps a bit too forcefully, “the universes were filtered through. Examined. The ones that were thought to be too chaotic were the first to be removed. Then, the ones that did not have a brightness of future or past.” “Re...removed.” “Yes. Their energy was taken back and put to other uses. Better uses. Eventually, all other universes had been dismantled for certain reasons, one and all, and after it all, there was left only one final universe. And that is the one you are lucky enough to belong to.” “S-so. There… there was all these other universes, that’s… that’s what you’re saying?” “Yes.” “All these… other worlds… had real ponies. Real other beings.” “Yes.” “And they’re all…” “Gone.” “Killed?” “No.” The Owner shook his head. “Returned. They all once belonged to a single universe, at one point. The infinite universes was a different system, tried by a different mind. The Prism found it not to work. And it had to be returned to the whole.” “That is… I mean… I don’t…” “It is not a comfortable topic.” “Yeah…” Scootaloo mumbled, her hoof flying to her mouth. “No kidding.” “You remain the single one left. All the other universes are merely shadows now, echoing from you. I understand that it must be difficult to think of an infinite number of other lives disappearing, but if it makes you feel any better, their perspectives are all now yours. What you have been through is now shared.” “But I don’t see the point!” Scootaloo yelled, a sudden anger welling up. “Why even do that? I… I know I can’t see it like you lot, but it just seems like you killed a whole bunch of everything for nothing!” “No. We didn’t remove life. We created life.” “What do you mean?” “Before, when there was one copy of every single thing that could possibly happen, you were merely one part of a whole. Nothing you did was truly yours. You just happened to be that one single universe out of all of them. Your action was already pre-ordained. You were following a script, to put it in that way. And everything was following a script, because it was written out from start to end, in a never-ending book that kept splitting itself apart at every junction. “But now, everything you do has consequence. Everything you do has a lasting effect on the world. If before, your actions were preordained by chance, then now, your actions carry genuine weight and actual meaning. No matter what scenario you find yourself in, be it something that belongs to your world, or something that perhaps is beyond what should be considered a regular experience, your thoughts, actions, and choices change things. “This is also why I am unable to simply just look to the future to find the answers that you seek. Because the future, in this new world, is not written in stone.” Scootaloo buried her temples in her hooves, pushing down hard upon the table, as a white light burned behind her eyelids. “Look, I’m sorry,” she said. “I think I need a moment here or something. This is just… I don’t even know. Is it terrible? Is it… something I should be thankful for? I don’t even think I get the magnitude of what you’re saying! How do you even get rid of something one by one if something is infinite?” “The shape of the universe is growing now, based on the actions of everyone in it. This is the new way.” “And what am I supposed to do, in this new way?” “Nothing needs to change. You simply have to continue living your life. Continue making the right choices. Continue understanding that everything you do has an effect. We all affect one another. Our actions have weight, and always will. The Prism would have the world itself learn how to shoulder responsibility.” “This is crazy.” “Shall we break this conversation?” “No!” Scootaloo yelled. She spat out a deep breath, running her hoof across her face, wiping off the dampness matting her mane to her forehead. “We’ve… come this far. Let’s continue. Okay? I mean… you know?” “Yes. I do admire your tenacity.” “Just… just gimmie a moment to gather my thoughts, alright? Boy, I could really use–” The glass of water had always been there. “Damn, man,” Scootaloo sniffed, her eyebrows curling downward. “I… just, damn.” She grabbed the glass, pulling it to her lips, allowing the sweet, nectar to quench her thirst and wash away that coalescence of shadow that weighed in her chest. Slamming the glass back down on the table, she gave her mind a quick shake, and grit her teeth. “Okay. So. There’s only one of me. Just the one.” The Owner nodded. “Now, what are all these things, then, that I’m seeing?” The Owner nodded again. “They are the echoes; the shadows. Experience has its own mind, and it lives outside of dimensions and time. Potential will always live, even if the truth does not. If one can ask ‘what if’, and imagine worlds that do not exist, then one gives birth to potential.” “So I’m just looking at a bunch of ‘what if’ stories?” “To be certain, that is true, in the way you state it.” “But what I don’t understand is… if the event caused experiences to come and mess me up, why are they all these… weird odd things, and not things that actually will or are going to happen?” “The things that are going to happen invaded your mind as well.” “They did?” “Yes, but the universe is not trying to correct them, because they will happen eventually. You will also remember them when they actually happen. But you will experience it as if you had experienced it before, because your brain will suddenly attempt to catch up. You refer to the sensation as deja vu. These are not the ones that seek to destroy you.” “Oh. So… yeah. I get it. So, it’s… happened many times before, huh. I mean, since Deja vu is pretty… common.” “More than we would like. But those are rather common, and rather harmless. It’s usually from the world adjusting when certain things happen.” “So where do all these… um… echo experiences come from?” “It is a place that we call The Hotel.” “The… Hotel.,” Scootaloo droned. “The Owner. The Cafe. The event. The Prism.” “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.” “Nothing.” Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “Go on.” “The Hotel is a place where possibilities are allowed to live in an area between existence and nonexistence. It is a place that surrounds reality, enveloping it, and the experiences that are causing you trouble have been drawn from there.” “So it’s a place where… any form of other possible thing that happened can come true.” “Yes.” “How is that any different from infinite universes?” “Well, for one, things are only created through necessity, and can disappear soon after. It’s much more energy efficient, and it saves a lot of space.” “Space?” “Yes. It is like this. Imagine yourself in a corridor with a number of doors on either side, each door leading to a room.” “Like a hotel.” “That corridor is ‘now’, and it belongs to you alone. Each door that you see leads to your potential next act – something that you would do. There are, of course, infinite possibilities. Each time you open a door, you can see a different act and a different outcome and a different experience play out, based on your expectations.” “So, what’s behind the doors is sorta like how you guys work. It only pops up based on what I think I’m going to see back there,” Scootaloo said. “Yes. And imagine that at the opposite end of each room is another door that leads to another hallway with a lot of rooms.” “Right. I can keep opening doors.” “Yes. You can go back, forward, sideways, and explore all the possible outcomes of your actions, and their related actions, so on, and so on. You may go back in time, forward in time and all throughout, and since they are potential…” “... they’re not limited by time or space!” Scootaloo finished. “Yes. Very good. You are catching on, it seems.” “Yeah, I think I... I think I’m beginning to get it.” “Now, the true path, the one true path, is to keep walking down the original hallway that you started in. That represents your real life. And there is always only one hallway because whatever your choices are, it will change the hallway as it goes along. The hall is only… built as you travel along life.” “Metaphorically, of course.” Scootaloo interjected. “Of course. And somewhere down that hallway is the event. It is a landmine, waiting for you to step on it. And once you do, it will send out a shockwave, a blast, that will ripple through the walls of the hotel and throw open a few doors by accident. When those doors pop open, their potentials escape, and being on your floor of the hotel, they sought you out and realised themselves.” “Huh.” “And just like a shockwave, the event tends to affect things… in close proximity. Which is why what you have seen are conversations and who you have seen are either characters you are familiar with, or characters that someone you know is familiar with. Of course, you have to keep in mind that things related to each other in the hotel is outside of the three axis system of spatial recognition that you are familiar with, and–” “Yeah, I get it. It’s all weird space.” “Yes…” The Owner said slowly. “Weird space is a succinct way to put it. And finally, what is behind the doors are created through necessity. When the–” “Okay, let me try this one,” Scootaloo interrupted again, to The Owner’s perfect composure and patience. “So, the event was what caused this. But the cafe doesn’t exist yet.” The Owner nodded. “But when it happens in the future, this shockwave that pushes itself back through The Hotel and through time will cause these potentials to exist, and that’s why all of the conversations have taken place here in The Cafe.” “Yes.” “And you’re here, with this… fake cafe thing, whatever this is, to create that environment so that these experiences can actually happen, so that I can see them, so that I don’t die!” “Yes. Precisely.” “Hah!” Scootaloo yelled out, a faint smile on her face. It was a small victory. But it was something that she was proud of, even under the most pressuring of circumstances. “I got this, don’t I?” “Yes. You… do.” “Aren’t you impressed?” Scootaloo smirked. “Yes.” The Owner said, slightly, as if he didn’t really say the complete word in essence. “Then… why do you look so worried?” Scootaloo’s smile started to drop. “Please, do not give me any mind. I am simply reminded of a time once, when someone else was… impressed.” “Oh.” “I… think we should end this here. You have what you need. And there is no need to press on more. It would be a mistake to do so.” A coldness swept past Scootaloo’s wings, giving her a phantom chill. She now felt regret for her excitement. A strange regret that came from nowhere, perhaps in the sudden realisation that her epiphanies were nothing at all to celebrate. She stroked the tabletop absentmindedly, feeling the grooves of the wood on the tip of her hoof, allowing them to remind her that it was all very real. “Uh…” she said, murmuring. “Yes?” “So… ah… why are you telling me all this?” Scootaloo asked, softly. She was scared now. Scared of the things invisible. Scared of what lay between. “Did you not want to know?” The Owner responded calmly. “Yeah, but… earlier, you only told me what you had to. Right now it feels like you’re giving me all this information that I’m not supposed to have.” “Things change.” “Yeah?” “Yes. There’s nothing in this life that isn’t affected by decisions. Our conversations, too, have shaped the future. I have mentioned this.” “But why have you told me all this?” Scootaloo repeated. “We have four experiences left to go.” The Owner said, abruptly, turning to the door. “Do you remember them?” “Yes.” She nodded. “Slight inklings.” “Just four more, and then it will be over. You will be returned, and you will be… fine. The next one comes… soon.” “Oh.” “Something the matter?” “No.” The Owner nodded, and moved away slightly, returning to the counter to prepare. “Actually,” Scootaloo spoke up again. “I… don’t know. I guess I just didn’t know how to feel once the end was near. I don’t really know how I feel now.” “Perfectly understandable,” The Owner responded. “I don’t know how you ought to feel either.” “Are you uh… are you even capable?” Scootaloo asked with slight hesitation. “I…” The Owner paused, his head bobbing once as he thought. “I remember what it was like.” “You’re sure… different.” Scootaloo said, somewhat piteously. The Owner made no reply. “Well… thank you,” Scootaloo said, after a few brief moments of silence. “For?” “For everything. I guess. Telling me all this. Helping me through.” “Half of it is my job,” The Owner said, matter-of-factly. “And the other half?” The Owner looked up, locking eyes with the pegasus. “I do not know,” he said. “Well, then, thank you all the same.” “Yes. You are welcome.” They continued staring at each other for a while longer, neither one giving off any hint of any emotion whatsoever. “Are you going to get into trouble for telling me?” Scootaloo asked. “No.” “Not afraid that I’m gonna tell someone else once I get out of here?” Scootaloo smiled faintly. “No.” “Good. Trust. Yeah? Trust is good.” Scootaloo nodded. “Glad you trust me. Glad we have this… you know. I mean, I trusted you at the start, right? Trust, and all that...” She trailed off, tearing her eyes away and turning to the door. The Owner kept looking, peering straight ahead. “Yes. Trust,” he repeated. “You do trust me, don’t you?” she asked the room. The answer never came. A bright light took her away. Images shuffled before her eyes like cards in a deck, and a single ace was pulled out, flourished for her sake and displayed in all clarity. And she watched, her final question lingering on her mind.