//------------------------------// // 6. What Would Life Be Without Mysteries? // Story: Final Mission // by Sharp Quill //------------------------------// The rabbit reared up on its haunches, whiskers nervously twitching. It was difficult to say which of us was more surprised at seeing the other. Nonetheless, it was a chance to get some answers and I wasn’t going to waste it. “Where am I?” I demanded. She started rubbing her front paws together, muttering, “Oh dear…” I stood up. It may have looked like a featureless gray void, but I was standing on something. Since that rabbit wasn’t inclined to answer my question, I began to wander around, inspecting the void for… anything. “Please stay put,” she finally spat out. “It’s dangerous for you to go too far.” I spun around. The rabbit was grimacing. I closed the distance between us as Discord’s words came to mind: it was only doing its job. And she was clearly worried about her next performance review. Fine. I’d try to keep it civilized. “Look, I only want some answers. Why am I—” I looked around at the featureless grayness “—here. Wherever here is.” She reached into a bag that was hung right above her belly and pulled out a small book. “This isn’t according to procedure,” she muttered to herself as she leafed through it. “It’s too soon.” Her horn wasn’t glowing; it hadn’t been glowing either. She wasn’t responsible, not this time. She really was just as surprised as I was. I stopped at a respectable distance. “I don’t want any trouble.” I put on my best warm, and fake, smile. “Just some answers.” Then it hit me. The time stunner. That couldn’t have been a coincidence. It bore a few of the same runes as the spell that had put me in this predicament in the first place. It must have interacted with that spell, triggering… Is this what had been happening overnight? The mysterious rabbit returned the book to the bag and lowered her front paws back to the—for lack of a better word—ground. “You are where you were,” she said carefully, protecting her secrets the way a dragon protects its treasure. Great. Another one of those conversations. In rapid succession, I asked, “Where’s everypony else? What happened with the bugbear? What did they think happen to me? Are they even looking for me?” The rabbit vaguely shook her head. “Those are meaningless questions.” Care to give me an example of a meaningful question? I sighed. “Look, seriously, what’s the point of keeping me in the dark? It’s not as if I could pass it on to other ponies. They’d forget it all the next day anyway. You should understand that!” “I can’t tell you why,” she quietly said. “Not yet.” “When can you tell me?” She briefly grimaced. “I can’t say.” I collapsed to my haunches. With pleading eyes, I said, “Is there anything you can tell me? Anything? Like, what is this place, and how do I get back?” I stared at her in silence. “This place,” she reluctantly began explaining, “is your realm. You haven’t gone anywhere.” “Okaaay…” My gaze remained locked on her. It was a few seconds before she continued. “The thread of your existence is being unraveled from the tapestry of this reality. This grayness—” she waved a paw around “—is reality resetting itself. It’s supposed to happen while you sleep, at least at first.” So another thirteen days of my life were being erased right now. Which explained why those questions were meaningless. “At first?” “The reset takes longer each time.” That made sense, I supposed, as each time the length of time affected increased exponentially. “And when it finishes resetting this time?” “You’ll be back in the forest.” With obvious relief, she added, “it shouldn’t be much longer.” “And I’ll no longer be able to see you.” Hence the relief, no doubt. The rabbit nodded her head a little too quickly. Left unsaid was that she would still be able to see me. She’s been observing me. That’s why she happened to be here when… this happened. I could ask why, but the odds were she wouldn’t answer; and if my time with her was limited, I needed to ask productive questions. “What happens when my birth gets erased?” I grimly asked. Which might now happen one day sooner than I had anticipated. “Then as far as this reality is concerned, you will have never existed.” I kind of figured that. I also figured there were other realms, other realities, like one in which unicorn rabbits existed. What else? Pegasus platypuses? She looked at me with sad eyes. “I know this may be hard for you to believe, but the point of this isn’t to punish you or make you suffer. I can even help, a little bit.” She looked at my full saddlebags. “I can hold some of that for you, so you won’t risk accidentally losing them in a reset.” It was an interesting offer, but more for what it implied. “I’ll pass—for now, anyway.” I was about to ask about the bugbear when ripples started to form around me, washing the gray away. They washed the rabbit away, too. The conversation was over. That there would be another was not in doubt. In mere seconds, reality had reformed around me. I was back in the clearing. Nopony else was around, naturally. The time stunner I had dropped on the ground was gone too, having never left that secret vault. I went back to the cave and looked inside. There was no evidence the bugbear had ever been there. There must have been a connection to me, somehow. I was going to ask about that when I had run out of time. Maybe it didn’t matter; she probably wouldn’t have answered that anyway. I looked at the cave wall. My wanderings in that gray void could have placed me inside the hill when the reset finished. Dangerous indeed. I left the cave and pondered the surrounding forest, wondering what next to do. There was no point in sticking around, so I headed back to the ancient castle. The trek back was uneventful. I knew of a better spot to cross that river, one I could manage on my own. It had been a bit of a detour, but it was worth it to avoid Steven. I doubted he would ever get past that “incident.” If that serpent had attended Cranky’s wedding, and it sure sounded like it, maybe it was for the best that I hadn’t. Why couldn’t he accept that it hadn’t been anything personal, that I was just doing my job? Like that rabbit. Okay, I got it: it was nothing personal. But until her equivalent to Princess Celestia apologized and made amends, she was an antagonist. Nothing personal, just a fact of life. The trip back gave me plenty of time to ponder our brief conversation. She did, if unintentionally, leave me a few tidbits to mull over, like: she couldn’t tell me much yet. I was willing to bet a small fortune the information would flow more freely once my erasure from this reality was complete. But she couldn’t admit that either. Why not? Celestia, then Discord, and now anonymous unicorn rabbits, all knowing far more than they’re willing to say. I was getting rather sick and tired of it. Once I was back at the castle, I resumed my search for hidden rooms, believe it or not with renewed optimism. First of all, I now had an idea of what had been done to me, so I now knew I needed to find something to reverse this “unraveling.” Second, I deduced that that rabbit couldn’t tell me anything because it was possible to reverse it. Then I could tell other ponies, and they would remember. Finally, I believed I had deciphered Twilight’s warning about the dangers of this place. It started with the simple fact that she had point blank lied about the physical dangers. She could not have ignored the possibility that I would repeat that warning back to her and see her react the way she did; indeed, she had to have been counting on it. She was sending me a covert message. The rest of the warning concerned the dangers of magics hidden away in secret rooms—not stored in the Canterlot Archives, where they ought to have been kept. Magics like Agency weapons. And then there was what Celestia had said in response to my question about Twilight’s search of the Archives: The Archives would not have any information on those runes. How could she be so sure? Because that information was here. It all made sense. I simply needed to find it. Regardless, finding it wasn’t enough. It was bound to be in one of those modern vaults with a magical combination lock. There was no way I could unlock it, even if I knew the combination; only a unicorn could do that. There was a good chance only an alicorn could unlock it. I would have to get Twilight involved. But first I had to find that hidden room. As night fell, I was exploring the subterranean levels of the castle, something I had before avoided. Aside from the increased dangers—even if structural collapse, supposedly, wasn’t one of them—there was the minor detail it was dark down there. Sunlight did not illuminate those corridors, and magical light fixtures had exhausted themselves centuries ago. I had a limited supply of light crystals I had picked up during my last visit home. I could have them recharged back in Ponyville, if necessary. It could be; there seemed to be more underground than aboveground. At least I could continue my explorations after the sun had set, and I had already found many secret rooms. If anything, it was a little too easy to find them. Sure, practice makes perfect, but I couldn’t help but wonder if protecting enchantments had faded away. I was standing in front of my latest find, inside what was probably once a guard station for the nearby dungeons. I pushed against the release mechanism, hidden under the decayed remains of paperwork that had once rested on a wall-mounted shelf. A section of wall popped out, the seams hidden by other shelves. As I swung the door open, lights came on in the revealed room. That was unusual, and perhaps a good sign. Then I saw Discord, and decided to reserve judgement. He was lying in a hammock, floating unsupported in the air. He was also wearing sunglasses and sipping through a straw some tropical-looking beverage. A warm sea breeze somehow blew through the room, and the sounds of distant birds and surf could be heard. He ignored my presence, contentedly sipping away. Yeah, as if that was fooling anypony. Then I noticed a familiar looking collection of gems on a shelf. “I don’t suppose you can unlock that?” I droned. Was it a coincidence he decided to show up in this room? Fat chance. I doubted that’s why he was here, but it couldn’t hurt to ask. He noisily sucked the remaining beverage through the straw before replying. “As a matter of fact, I can get you inside that room.” He lifted the sunglasses and peered at me. “But not without triggering an alarm. Princess Sunbutt would be here within seconds.” I briefly considered it. Alas, there was too much to explain, and clearly the princess wanted plausible deniability. She can’t knowingly let me have access to what’s inside that room. I’d have to fetch Twilight tomorrow and persuade her to let me in. I sighed. “No thanks.” “Can’t say I’m surprised.” Discord went back to ignoring me, and conjured up a new, impossibly-polkadot beverage. I was seriously tempted to call it a night and leave. “Why are you here?” I asked, fatigue creeping into my voice. He lazily waved a paw around. “Luxuriously soaking in the chaos your condition is causing.” I stared at him. “Don’t you wonder what my condition is or how I got it?” “I have my sources,” he knowingly said. “One of those sources wouldn’t happen to be a unicorn rabbit, would it?” He smiled. “I will neither confirm nor deny that.” “Can you cure me of this ‘condition?’” “Nope.” “Can’t… or won’t.” The hammock began swaying back and forth as he spiritually waved a paw above his head. “What would life be without mysteries?” I wasn’t in the mood for these games. I turned around and re-opened the door. “Enjoy my ‘condition’ while it lasts.” I searched the Town Hall public announcements board a second time. I still could not find a missing pony poster with my name and picture. When I had woken up, the dust was undisturbed on the floor. That meant another twenty one days had been erased, if the pattern held. I had become a cold case, my spot on the board now occupied by something more topical. A loud gasp caught my attention. A wide-eyed Pinkie Pie was staring at me. “Bon Bon, is that you?!” Here we go… “Uh… yes?” Pinkie’s mouth went into overdrive. “I did have a scratchy front-right hoof and that usually means I’m about to cross paths with somepony I haven’t seen in a long time but I never expected it would be you!” “A little over three months, I’m guessing?” “Sure was!” Her mood suddenly deflated. “You, uh… you weren’t planning on going home, were you?” That was ominous. “Well, yeah, why wouldn’t I?” I did plan on finally talking to Lyra, before I went to see Twilight. “I… I guess you didn’t hear then.” Now it was getting scary. “Hear what?” Her sad eyes said it all. “Lyra moved back to Canterlot.” I couldn’t say anything. “None of us knew what happened to you. We all searched, but even with all the resources at Twilight’s disposal… even with my Pinkie Sense… it’s as if you vanished off the face of the planet.” If you only knew… I started walking home—correction, to what was once my home. “I’m really sorry,” Pinkie said as she caught up to me. “You should know that Lyra sold it.” So it had happened, if a bit sooner than I’d expected. “Who bought it?” I asked, not really wishing to know. She didn’t answer. I looked at her; she was already looking at me. “I did.”