Final Mission

by Sharp Quill


14. A Life to Live

Twilight hadn’t wasted any time, escorting me immediately to a waiting royal chariot. We were now on our way to Canterlot. Nopony else accompanied us, not even Spike. Why Celestia had wanted to see me, she wouldn’t tell me; that would have to wait until my audience with the diarch.

I could take a good guess, though, as Twilight had been informed of certain facts about my past. If nothing else, it allowed me to put off my day of reckoning with Lyra. I just hoped she hadn’t repeated that Agency stuff to anypony else.

“So how did you capture that bugbear?” the newest alicorn asked, increasingly frustrated with my less-than-informative answers. “Even with my friends helping me and, well, me being an alicorn, it was impossible.” She looked out at the city on a mountain ahead of us. “If it hadn’t eventually just… given up and flown away… I don’t know what would have happened.”

Somehow, that outcome didn’t shock me. I had an unfair advantage, of course, when I had captured it—apparently too unfair an advantage. “Your Highness,” I began, pointedly going formal on her, “with all due respect, if you don’t know how I did it, it isn’t my place to inform you.”

She blinked.

From an alternate timeline, I knew Celestia trusted her with that information; but, for whatever reason, she had yet to do so in this version of reality, and, as there would be no more resets, I would play it safe.

“Celestia has complete trust in me,” Twilight finally insisted.

“I’m sorry, princess, but it isn’t up to me.”


I followed Twilight into a room high in the palace, the same room in which my previous meeting with Celestia had taken place. I almost bumped into her royal posterior when she suddenly froze.

I did too, upon seeing who was seated next to Celestia.

Celestia addressed her former pupil. “I’m sorry, Twilight, but we need to speak to Sweetie Drops alone.” Twilight’s mouth was hanging open. “I’ll talk to you later, I promise.”

I was getting the impression that the reason Twilight wouldn’t tell me why Celestia had wanted to see me was because she hadn’t known herself. I had a damn good idea what the topic of discussion would be, and it scared me.

Twilight hadn’t budged. “You trust Discord more than me?”

“It isn’t about trust,” Celestia calmly said. “There is much you don’t know, and this is not the time or place to bring you up to speed.”

Twilight stood there, frozen in disbelief.

“Twilight,” I said, “Princess Celestia’s right, and if you did know, trust me, you’d wish you didn’t.” She was about to open her mouth. “Don’t ask how I know that.”

She silently gaped at me, took one more look at Celestia, then slowly turned and left the room.

With a golden glow, the door closed. The walls, floor, and ceiling all flashed as Celestia cast a privacy spell. Once that was done, she asked me, “So how do you know?”

I looked uneasily between the two immortals. I didn’t know how much Celestia knew about the Nexus, but with Discord sitting there it was pretty obvious she knew enough. “Early on, after the first reset I think—” I briefly paused, but neither seemed unaware of what I had meant “—you, apparently, had explained everything to Twilight… and she didn’t take it very well. She told me she was glad she wouldn’t remember any of it after the following reset.”

“I see.” Celestia levitated the ever-present cup of tea to her lips. “I shall keep that in mind when I explain it to her.”

My eyes drifted over to Discord. He had been unusually quiet. I assumed he was here as the designated Nexus representative. Might as well cut to the chase. Addressing both of them, I asked, “So what’s going to happen to me?”

It was Discord who spoke next, surprisingly with a smile on his face. “I have to hoof it to you: Never have I seen so much chaos inflicted on that ossified bureaucracy. Long overdue, if you ask me. What you just did has never been done before. There were no contingency plans at all.”

“Okay…” I looked back and forth between them. “So… what does that mean?”

Celestia lowered her cup. “We honestly don’t know yet. Right now, they’re in damage-control mode.” Her eyes drilled into me. “How did you undo that spell?”

“Don’t answer that,” Discord commanded.

Really, Discord?”

“You know better than that,” he chided. “That knowledge will certainly be declared off limits.”

The draconequus returned his attention to me. “Someone will be around to debrief you. It will very much be in your interest to cooperate.” His eyes hardened. “Until then, do not talk about anything outside of this realm.”

He teleported away.

My princess avoided my eyes. “I truly am sorry it has come to this. I’ll do my best to help you, but I’m afraid there is little I can do.”

“I won’t let them cast that spell on me again,” I defiantly declared. “Even if they somehow managed, I’ll just undo it again.” Maybe that was wishful thinking, but it wasn’t impossible; I remembered the runes on that crystal.

“I’m sure they’ll take that into consideration.”

She hadn’t said it as if it were a good thing.

If I was a condemned mare, at least I should be granted a last request. “The Elements of Harmony are powerless against Discord, aren’t they? The whole being-turned-into-stone thing was just an act, a cover story, wasn’t it?”

The diarch focused on her cup of tea, taking a forcibly leisurely sip.

“It’s… complicated.” She gave a tired sigh. “No, I suppose there’s no point; you clearly know. It’s true.” She looked at me with desperate eyes. “You must not even hint of this to anypony else. Even Twilight does not know.” Her expression turned grim. “Yet.”


Twilight and I took a detour on the trip back to Ponyville. I was not privy to her conversation with Celestia, but something was different: she wasn’t reacting as she had in that alternate timeline. She was more mad than depressed.

She had asked if I knew where The Agency weapons were stored, and for my own reasons I had said “yes.”

We approached the guard station for the underground dungeons. The decayed paperwork remnants, which covered the release mechanism, laid undisturbed on that wall-mounted shelf. I pushed against it, and as before, a section of wall popped out. This time there was no light, none apart from what we had brought with us.

Twilight levitated her light crystal inside the revealed room. When she saw the collection of gems on a shelf, she quickly trotted over. She studied them but for a second, then caused them to light up one at a time, in an apparently random sequence, ending with them all simultaneously flashing three times.

Just like that other time, a section of the wall vanished, revealing a dark room. Wall-mounted crystals began glowing, lighting up the room and revealing floor-to-ceiling shelves on all the walls.

But unlike that other time, there were no weapons here. I wanted to see what was in this vault, to discover anything that could protect me from whatever action the Nexus might take against me. Worst case, I would simply claim they must’ve been moved. I had a feeling Twilight wouldn’t be comparing notes with Celestia—if she was supposed to be here, she’d know where they were.

Twilight’s eyes lit up like a foal in my candy store; it was a veritable library in there. She teleported to a shelf, picked out a scroll, and began reading, all thoughts of weapons forgotten.

I went over to the shelves on the opposite wall and scanned their contents. Quite honestly, I was out of my league. I could tell they were quite ancient, and the knowledge they held must have been forbidden if they were kept here, but apart from that? Well, maybe if I got lucky and found a scroll with those runes in it.

“Oh my gosh, I don’t believe it! Star Swirl the Bearded wrote this one!” She looked at me, practically drooling. “I thought I’d read everything he’s written!”

But then again, if I hadn’t been unlucky, Twilight would have been inside here with me that other time, and she most certainly was not out of her league.

There was a squee as Twilight discovered yet another tome from her personal hero.


Lyra was not impressed. “I’m not going to get an explanation,” she flatly said.

“Like I said, it’s highly classified.” Twilight wasn’t throwing any punches; she was even wearing her regalia. “Whatever Bon Bon might have already told you, you must keep to yourself.”

“Understood, Your Highness,” the unicorn responded with exaggerated formality. She turned, went towards the stairs, and departed.

I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.

It was a small price to pay to be home again, and she’d get over it soon enough.

My home was as I remembered it. All that were missing were the items I had taken with me in one of the alternative timelines. My existence may have been rethreaded into reality, but those items had remained in my saddlebags.

Yet something else was missing too. I looked up at the bare ceiling once more.

This time, it did not go unnoticed. “I removed the crystals and runes yesterday,” Twilight said. “Lyra doesn’t know they were there.”

I gave her a blank look. I had assumed Beyond removed them after they had done their job.

“Aren’t they what did this to you?”

“Well, yes, but… they were gone when I woke up. I’m surprised they were here for you to find.” I gave her a hard look. “How did you find them?”

“Hard to miss magic like that,” she said with a smile. “That was also when the bugbear had broken off its attack. It was too much of a coincidence, so I investigated right away.”

Yeah, some coincidence. “Did you find out anything about those runes?”

I hadn’t drawn any runes for her at the vault. Maybe the event had taken place in this realm, but those runes had originated elsewhere. That might have been splitting hairs, but Discord’s injunction was too fresh.

“Not at first,” she told me. Her mood darkened. “Celestia claimed no knowledge either.”

“But…?” I asked, as if I didn’t know where this was going.

“That vault has information on those runes. I need to go back and research some more, but I think I have an idea of how to undo that spell or even shield against it.”

She looked at me expectantly.

I didn’t dare bite, as much as I wanted to. “Twilight,” I began, “there’s a reason that knowledge has been locked away. Perhaps you should leave it alone.”

She shot me a disgruntled look. “You’re beginning to sound like Celestia.”

Maybe bringing her there hadn’t been my smartest idea.

Taking my silence as the message, Twilight brusquely turned around and departed.

I was alone again.

As I once more had a life to live, I figured I might as well live it. I went downstairs to the store. I kept the closed sign up; I still didn’t feel like dealing with customers, and besides it was getting rather late. I made my way to the kitchen.

Like everything else, it was back to the way I had left it. No oven replaced the floor-standing mixing bowls, nor did exist any of the other changes Pinkie Pie had made. I opened the cupboard with the false bottom and returned the anti-monster kit to its hiding place; there was no evidence a baby alligator had ever stayed there.

After putting the false bottom back into place, I restocked the shelf save for the bag of sugar. I poured it into a floor-standing mixing bowl and turned on the flame to melt the sugar. From another cupboard I got out the bag of dried alfalfa sprouts. Nothing like making my signature candied alfalfa to get me back into my groove.