//------------------------------// // Conversation 15: Twilight Sparkle // Story: Aporia // by Oliver //------------------------------// “In short,” I concluded the verbal portion of my report, “while their interests are… kind of alien, they are just as academic as their attitude. I’ve never even had a question Mary refused to answer. But I expect you already knew most of that, Princess.” The monstrosity that was assembled from the ruined cake of the Cakes, Joe’s donuts, Fluttershy’s cookies, mousse moose and assorted alliterated eclairs got first place, to the satisfaction of all the guilty parties, despite being so eclectic, that it could hardly be called a singular dessert. Why did Fluttershy even take cookies with her, let alone a whole week’s supply, I have no idea, but they sure came in useful. Then, soon after the first samples were distributed, it animated. And attempted to eat the attendees, so Pinkie had to consume most of it in self-defense. Turned out, one of the spices Fluttershy used in those cookies was a gift from Zecora, a rare Everfree plant. I never even knew an alchemical equivalent of a come-to-life spell existed, but looks like we discovered one purely by accident! In all the commotion, I didn’t even get to taste the thing. I guess that’ll teach me to be the most rule-abiding pony on the train… Pinkie left none for Applejack either, and AJ made no attempt to conceal she felt slightly miffed about that, but promises of a special cake for the Apples once Pinkie gets back to Ponyville were enough to placate her. I was just glad the whole mess was over before a real scandal could break out, so I decided not to start one myself. Most importantly, after the National Dessert Competition concluded, I actually managed to get the Princess all to myself for some time, which felt much better than a cake. We met in the sculpture garden, next to the entrance to the hedge maze, and I spent almost an hour talking about everything I learned. I only noticed that we’ve been meandering through the maze by the time I was mostly done, and had to deliberately squish my hooves into the ground to stop. When will I ever stop getting so nervous before her? Will I ever? “Expected, rather than knew,” Celestia smiled at me. “It’s nice to have an independent confirmation. When ponies imagine first contact with an alien species, they think of trade and war. Governments are simple beasts, they worry about little else, so it’s justified, but only if there’s another government on the other end. Otherwise, we worry that an alien species would judge us for not living up to our own ideals – remember that movie, ‘The Day The Earth Stood Still?’ We don’t really expect having to make sense of each other from scratch, we tend to imagine a pony in a rubber mask. Even having a language in common is actually skipping ahead a great deal. But isn’t learning about each other the really interesting part?” “I’m… very happy to be entrusted with something like that, Princess, but I’m not really sure I’m qualified,” I admitted grudgingly. Celestia shook her head, “No, Twilight. This is not a test. I don’t know the right answer. I don’t even have any means to judge success or failure, you’re completely on your own. But this is a chance to find out how a really alien species sees friendship. To know whether harmony really is as universal as we believe. There is hardly any pony in Equestria more qualified to study this than you are.” I sighed. “Considering that I am now unclear on how is friendship even real, I need more help than I expected.” “That is my mistake, Twilight, rather than any shortcoming of yours,” Celestia frowned into nowhere in particular. “You blazed through magic theory and hard sciences so fast, that I worried of nothing but making sure you never ran out of new things to learn. I’ll write up a list of books that should give you a wider view of ontology first chance I get. You’re not the first pony to ask this question, and generations of philosophers have muddled the issue beyond all recognition.” “…I understand it isn’t obvious. But shouldn’t it be? We literally base the entirety of our knowledge on knowing what is real,” I asked. Celestia smiled at me. “If ponies didn’t believe that real things are obviously real, nothing would ever get done. At least half of all philosophy is about trying to figure out what the words everypony thinks they already understand really mean. The other half is mostly about what to do afterwards, as it upsets the sand castles.” “Is that all our science and magic really is?” I inquired. “A sand castle on a foundation of… well, nothing?” “A sand castle on the foundation of itself,” Celestia punctuated with a raised hoof. “Everything connects to something else. At least some of these things will turn out to be real, no matter which way you look at them. Tell me, what is the common, colloquial definition of harmony?” “Concord and cooperation between ponies,” I recited automatically. “So where does it exist?” Celestia pulled. “Between ponies, presumably…” I said. “Oh!” There is nothing between ponies. Harmony can’t exist, because there is no medium for it to exist, and yet it is unquestionable that it does. It’s just as vague, but just as real as friendship, they are, after all, close cousins. “Ponies are real,” I declared, excited. “Friendship and harmony exist between ponies and through ponies, and are therefore exactly as real as ponies are.” I guess I shouldn’t feel too proud of figuring something like that if I needed such a big hint to do it, from the Princess, no less, but I still felt more than a bit satisfied at finally understanding it. “Not all philosophers will agree with you,” Celestia pointed out, “But I generally don’t think very highly of the words of those that won’t. If my little ponies aren’t real, I’m not sure what am I doing here, and I don’t think something that isn’t real could keep surprising me consistently for so long.” Unfortunately that’s far from the end of it. “I have no doubt I am real…” I said, “and I do not doubt that you are just as real. But with the story theory the humans propose, I am having trouble demonstrating the world itself is real… It’s like it can be less real than friendship, which is kind of worrying.” “It’s possible for multiple seemingly contradictory theories to coexist,” Celestia commented. “What brought this on, anyway?” “It’s a long story. A mystery, actually…” I started. It took me a while to describe the sandwich problem and my hypothesis. When I was done, Celestia told me, “It’s certainly an interesting problem, and a promising hypothesis. I can, of course, confirm, that neither me, nor Luna, nor even Star Swirl ever cast such a spell, and few, if any, great wizards could approach his level since. Whatever it is, the idea that there is a natural cause and the mechanism of effect is magical is sound. I don’t think it is a pressing issue, so don’t let it consume your life. Equestria has lived for ages with it, and won’t be worse off if you don’t solve it today. But it could well become better if you do it in the future, and there’s no telling what else you might learn along the way. I would love to hear of anything you discover, in any case.” “I would need to spend months in the Canterlot Archives before I can come up with any leads,” I sighed. “And everypony needs to go back to Ponyville today…” “That, I can help you with,” Celestia smiled. “There’s a better library much closer to home.” My ears perked up. “There is?!” “It is no accident that Nightmare Moon first appeared in Ponyville, of course. Do you remember the castle in Everfree Forest? Back in the day, it was the castle that I shared with Luna, that’s why it’s called the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, after all,” she said. “I have abandoned it and established the seat of government in Canterlot, leaving almost everything as it was, it’s still connected to far too many unpleasant memories. But the castle library should still be there. The enchantments should have preserved the books well, no matter what state the rest of the castle is in.” “But that would make it one of the oldest surviving libraries in Equestria!” I exclaimed, bouncing. No book newer than a thousand years! Histories earlier than recorded history! Even if I consider that what passed for historical science in these times can hardly be called either, that’s as close to primary sources as it gets! “Which is why it is a very appropriate place to start your research,” Celestia smiled. “But don’t go there alone. It’s full of self-rearming magic powered traps and secret passages. Luna absolutely loves these things. And it is, after all, a crumbling ruin in the middle of a dangerous forest. Bring some friends.” “Of course I will,” I grinned back. “It’s an adventure!” “More of a quest,” Celestia smiled in encouragement. “But yes, it is.” I was about to say something else, but far, far in the distance, the clock on one of the castle towers chimed the hour. “Oh my, look at the time,” Celestia said, as she looked around. We were somewhere really deep in the maze. “Are we lost?” “Maybe,” I said, poking the hedge. “Don’t let me keep you, Princess, I’ll find my way out. I’ve been here before.” Celestia laughed, unfurling her huge wings and nuzzling my cheek. “It was actually replanted completely, after what Discord did to it. But I’m sure a simple maze won’t hold you, Twilight. I’ll be waiting for your letters.” With a flap of her wings, she rose into the air, and moments later disappeared out of sight, the rare wingbeats slowly receding into the distance. Sometimes, I wonder, what would it be like to have wings of my own… Mental note: Schedule a day to cast the wing enchantment spell on myself, enlist Rainbow for flight safety and tutoring. Maybe sometime next month. Well, if all else fails, I’m pretty sure I could teleport out. I’d rather not teleport blind, but I’m confident the maze is not warded. As I was standing there and deciding which way to go, suddenly, I heard the distinct sound of human boots on the ground. There’s only one human who is likely to be here at this time… “I believe you wanted to ask me something, Twilight,” Rika said loudly behind my back. “It is customary to say hello when meeting somepony,” I tried to point out politely as I turned around. “It is customary to say goodbye when leaving,” Rika grinned at me, “Which I didn’t, as you should recall, so did I actually leave?” Both of them, beyond simply being alien, also seem to be just a little unhinged. I’m not sure just how normal they are by human standards, but they’re different even in that. While Mary likes being unobtrusive and hidden, Rika is all about getting in your face and under your coat, with that shiny red mane of hers and that presence, like she’s out to fill all available space… I tried a polite smile. “Did you?” “Maybe,” Rika replied with a playful wink. “But that’s not the question you wanted to ask, is it?” I took a breath. No sense beating around the hedge, I guess. “Please tell me, what is a ‘magical girl?’” “It’s a story pattern,” Rika started. Somehow, I’m sure she knew I was going to ask this. Mary must have told her, why would she even chase me to Canterlot otherwise… “A structure of events, that can be distinguished from other such structures, which centers on a character type called ‘magical girl.’ While none are exactly the same, of course, they can be broadly classified into four types, 0 to III.” “Why does the numbering start with zero?” I wondered. “Because Type 0 magical girls lack one important property that others have – transformation magic as a central feature,” Rika explained. “A Type 0 magical girl is an alien princess as an exchange student. She comes from a magical realm to a regular human world, to stay a while and make new friends. To her, magic is an everyday thing. Not so much to her regular-human friends.” “Sounds very much like some humans I know, but in reverse…” I commented. “Well, there was a time when I thought I was an alien princess, but that’s a story for another day…” Rika grinned widely, showing off teeth. “Type I is the first proper magical girl. A normal human that acquires a magical device capable of temporarily transforming her, usually into an adult version of herself. Her story is about repeatedly bypassing an initiation ritual.” “…Initiation? Like, into a secret society?…” I wondered. I really don’t remember the word being used for much except the rituals that were in vogue with unicorn conclaves in the First Celestial Era. “M-mm… Most human cultures have a ceremony that sharply marks the transition from child to adult. They tone it down over time, but it never completely disappears,” Rika elaborated. “It’s a bit similar to getting a cutie mark. If you had the concept of a Type I magical girl, her transformation magic would be about trying cutie marks on, like dresses, testing what sticks. There are lots of variations, but that’s the basic idea.” “The Cutie Mark Crusaders would love magic amulets like that…” I commented. Rika snickered. “Maybe I should get them some.” “Are you serious?!” I exclaimed. “They get into more than enough trouble already!” “You’re no fun,” Rika replied with a fake-looking scowl. Pf-f-ft. “How are these types connected, anyway?” I asked. “There doesn’t seem to be anything common to them except the words ‘magical girl,’ but that’s obviously not it.” “Well, there are two more types,” Rika continued. “A Type II magical girl also transforms – into a version of herself equipped to fight alien evil forces, which are magical, and can only be fought by magic. Instead of taking adulthood for a spin, a Type II magical girl takes the hero’s mantle for a spin. Adulthood is sometimes part of that, but usually not.” “I think I can see it now,” I said. It only clicked when she explained three of them, but I’m pretty sure of it. “They are all different expressions of youthful hope, aren’t they? Different takes on the same idea, what a filly might dream to be. Like friendship is magic, they treat hope as a kind of magic, too.” Rika smirked at me. “Isn’t it?” …Was this a rhetorical question or not? “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. I really don’t, but the idea clearly has merit. I’m not even sure if the Elements of Harmony are just unlocked by friendship, or actually powered by it, either theory can be supported by the evidence I have. Who knows what kind of effects you can produce by powering a magical device with hope… “There are a lot of things I don’t know. I didn’t know that friendship was magic until last summer, after all. It was such a wonderful surprise…” Dead end. I’m not even sure why were we walking, but suddenly, there we were, in a small clearing at the end of a winding path, face to face with a statue of a teenage pony in ornate, but badly damaged armor, holding a heart in her teeth. Her body was frozen in a forceful walk, mane and tail swept back by a harsh wind. This was unexpected enough to make me jump. I knew this statue. Time has not been kind to it, it had a large crack going down the chest, and the heart itself was barely recognizable as such, polished by the touch of generations of ponies. The fire in the mare’s eyes still made it a striking work of art. I also knew it was previously located outside the maze. Looks like the replanted hedge has no patterns in common with the old maze at all. “…What’s this one supposed to represent?” Rika asked, walking up to the statue and running her fingers across the marble. “Nopony seems to know. It’s ancient. Some think it’s ‘love,’ based on that heart,” I replied. “Legend says, it’s one of the heroes of the Settlement, Sunlit Seen the earth pony. Pretty much nothing survived except the name, and that might have been invented in a later era to explain the statue.” “Love?! Shame,” Rika said. “I didn’t think you had any, but that is your oldest magical girl. It’s ‘hope,’ of course,” she added with certainty. Earth pony, magical girl? “How do you figure?” I asked. There’s a lot earth pony magic can do, but transformations are not on the list. Rika looked at me with a twisted smile and pointed a finger at the crack in the statue’s chest. “That’s how it’s supposed to look. If you find the right legend, I’m sure it will say, that in a moment of great despair, she tore her own heart out, and it burned, lighting the way for others as she walked forward. It’s a very Type II thing to do.” So she thinks it isn’t just a symbol, but a literal heart? Horsefeathers… “Why are you so sure?” I wondered. “Do things like this happen often in human worlds?” It’s beautiful and romantic, but if you ask me, it’s also pretty horrible, not to mention tragic. Bad things shouldn’t happen to good ponies. Good ponies shouldn’t have to do bad things to themselves, either! “Some ideas are universal,” Rika replied, deftly hopping onto the pedestal and dusting the statue’s mane off with her hand. Like trying to pet a real pony… “A very lucky Type II magical girl gets to grow up and have a family. For most, that’s where it ends. A lucky one dies… like that. Some unlucky ones succumb to despair and become their own special kind of monster. The rare really unlucky ones win forever and go on to become Type III.” “‘Win forever?’ Wouldn’t that mean saving the world for good?” I asked. “That’s… really, that has to be a contradiction, how is that unlucky?” “If the story of a Type II magical girl runs for long enough, the threats she comes up against also grow, all the way to cosmic levels,” Rika said, jumping back down, and slowly walking over to me. “World-devouring monsters, the ultimate cause of all the world’s corruption. To battle such a threat and win, to save the world forever, you have to become something just as monstrous. But a magical girl remains an expression of purity and hope, even then,” she added, crouching before me to look into my eyes. “A monstrous expression of purity and hope is… not a happy thing.” I never noticed it before, but now I’m certain I can’t see my reflection in those eyes of hers. Was she talking about herself? Is she even breathing? I’m… not sure. She doesn’t even smell like a living thing. I thought it was just an unusual perfume, but Mary uses a simple floral scent and sure enough, there are tones of sweat and other bodily scents behind it, almost like a pony. Rika smells of …petroleum, and nothing else. Should I ask her about it? But how is she going to react to something like that? How does one ask, “are you even alive?!” Was this what Mary meant by “overwhelming force?…” “Word of advice, Twilight,” Rika suddenly interrupted my thoughts with a blank expression on her face, stretching up and making a step back. Whew… “If you’re afraid to ask a question because it might be offensive, don’t ask the one you think you know the answer to. Ask one that counts, instead.” One that counts… “Tell me, then…” I said, after spending more than a few seconds in silence. A promise made to Rika, Mary said… “Why have you brought Mary here? Why not some human world?” “I guess this one counts,” Rika grinned, starting a slow walk in the direction we came from. “She picked the actual book at random, but I did pick the tree for a reason…” I had no choice but to trail after her. “So what was the reason?” “It’s a rather long story,” Rika said thoughtfully. “…There’s a famous human fairytale, ‘Tale of the Bamboo Cutter.’ A girl, found by an old childless couple in mysterious circumstances, grows into a woman, who soon becomes famous for her beauty and wit, and is courted by numerous noble suitors. She offers them impossible challenges, and all of them fail… Except one, the emperor of the country.” Sounds pretty normal so far. Our old folklore is full of tales like that, I remember five variations on the motive of impossible challenges alone. “And while there is love between them, she rejects him as well,” Rika continued. “Eventually, she reveals that she did so because she is the princess of the Moon Kingdom.” “How could that cause a problem?!” I exclaimed. “I can imagine a fairytale princess objecting to marrying lesser nobility, fairytales are like that. But an emperor should be perfect!” “Not a ruling princess, they had a king,” Rika said, throwing a glance down at me. “So essentially she was even more powerless than the regular subjects. She was temporarily exiled for punishment, and one day, soon, would be forced to return, never to come down to Earth again.” “Sounds sad…” I commented. “But it ends well, doesn’t it? All fairytales have good endings!” “Nope,” Rika shook her head, “it gets worse. The Emperor sends his guards to prevent this, but they are overpowered by the magic of the Moon Kingdom. The princess is very sad to part with the Emperor and her many friends, and is permitted to leave him a few things to remember her by… One of these is a letter. The other one is a bottle of the elixir of immortality, enough for one human. And then…” Rika stopped and stared at me, carefully studying my reaction. “The grief-stricken Emperor finds the tallest mountain, closest to the heavens, and burns both of these things there. Because he cannot bear the thought of living without his princess for eternity. The. End!” “I’m not even sure this counts as a fairytale,” I said, looking back at her. She never seems to show she’s actually angry at something, but telling this made her look… Annoyed? “I don’t think any of our fairytales have a tragic ending like that. Not ones told to foals, at least. Even the very scary ones don’t.” “You can probably understand why I hated it so much, then, when I found the actual book. The Library book,” Rika said. “But, I had no idea what to do with it. Destroying the Moon Kingdom would be easy, but wouldn’t do much good. I asked Mary for a solution as a challenge. I wanted her to own up to the ideal she declared.” Can she really destroy a whole kingdom? If one can destroy a world-devouring monster, that would be easy… “…And?” “…And she did,” Rika suddenly grinned, like a filly who just discovered a lost candy. “It took her longer to explain than to come up with it. Like, poof, there it is. I just had to force-feed the Emperor his elixir and give him a paragraph of carefully worded hints. It was so obvious, so cruel, and yet so beautiful…” “What sort of hints?” I asked. And hints to do… what exactly? “A very concise description of how to study gravity and reactive motion. You don’t really need magic to go to the moon. Just persistence in science, and a lot of time and money,” Rika explained, her voice almost sparkling with excitement, like she’s about to burst into a heartsong. I actually wondered why she didn’t, it certainly seemed important enough for her to tell me all that. “It took him seven hundred years, but he did it. Right there, on the spot, one story turned into an entire, separate tree, and Mary didn’t even notice what she had done, she was describing possibilities to me, and new books kept appearing. In some branches, he had a happy reunion and a wedding, in others, a war. Sometimes, both. But none had such despair as the one Mary started with.” She suddenly stopped walking and stared at me. “I don’t know what her gift truly is. I don’t think she understands what she really does… But it’s very important to me.” “…That’s… a fascinating piece of knowledge,” I said, very carefully picking out words. “At least, I think I understand you two better, now.” I can also see that this really is a friendship problem… Let’s deal with my problem first, though. “But it still didn’t answer my question. Why Equestria, of all places? …Why me? The very first door she knocked on was mine.” “I don’t really believe in coincidence, you see,” Rika said very seriously. “The name of the moon princess in the story I just told you about was ‘Kaguya-hime.’ In my native language, this name can be written in a number of ways, and depending on how you do it, the meaning will change. And my favorite variant means… ‘Princess Twilight Sparkle.’” I deeply regretted Pinkie was not in the maze with us. If she were, she’d surely offer me a drink, just to make sure that I could spray it into somepony’s face. A mug of hard cider would be perfect right about now.