//------------------------------// // Blaze // Story: Ashes // by Trick Question //------------------------------// Princess Twilight Sparkle trotted into the royal meeting room and shut the door behind her. She quickly took a seat at the small central table next to Princess Luna. "Hello, Luna. How is Celestia doing?" said Twilight, followed by a small gasp. "Luna, are you okay?" "Forgive me, Twilight," said Luna, as she rubbed her bleary eyes with her foreknees. "I look rather fagged, I must presume." "Well, er... that's not really a word ponies use anymore, but yes. Actually, you look like you haven't slept since I last saw you," she said. "I have not," responded Luna. "Oh my Stars. Luna, how is Celestia?" Twilight repeated, leaning upon the table with both hooves. Luna sighed and gritted her teeth. "I will tell you what I know. It should help to pass the time as we wait." Princess Luna proceeded to recount the entire meeting with her sister. "...and finally, she made me promise to tell you that she loves you," she concluded. "By the way, my sister loves you. The deed is done." "She said what?" asked Twilight, blushing deeply. She reached forward and grasped Princess Luna by her collar. "Luna, it sounds like she's dangerously depressed. We need her to see a doctor immediately—" "Twilight, calm yourself! Do you think me a foal?" said Luna, leaning back from Twilight's face. "Or do you expect I would be here if I had not already done all that I could?" "No, no, of course not," said Twilight. She released Luna and sighed, slumping back into her seat. "What in Tartarus is going on?" "We are being played, Twilight," said Luna, punctuating the statement with a dark frown. "Played? By Celestia?" "Not precisely, no," said Luna. "The promise my sister gave to me was sincere, of this I have no doubt. Has she ever spoken to you of the roles of Knight and Knave?" "Knight and Knave... Oh, right: the 'Good Guard, Bad Guard' routine," said Twilight. "She credits you with its invention." Luna nodded. "The role of the Knight is the ability to mask one's emotions, and my sister excels at it. However, she is a terrible liar. The ability to lie with false emotion is the role of the Knave," she said. "Which is what you're good at," said Twilight. "Precisely. Despite my sister's gift at presenting a false front, she has never been able to lie to me convincingly," said Luna. "I doubt even a millennium could change that much, particularly given her lack of memory. We will certainly meet with her before the morrow's dawn, just as she promised." "Then what did you mean by 'played'?" asked Twilight. "Celestia's secretary, Raven, is serving as her intermediary for all communication. Quite frankly, I do not trust the mare," said Luna. "This is a rare situation where Raven's commands supersede my own. She legally acts as Celestia's Hoof while my sister remains sequestered in her room. Raven is the one who informed me that Celestia's audience with us would begin here at noon." "Wait, noon? Luna, that was hours ago! Why didn't you call me sooner?" asked Twilight. "I know the dissonant tune of a diplomatic stalling tactic when it assaults my ears, Twilight," said Luna. "Raven's words were far too vague about whether the meeting would begin on time. I was told I could 'go ahead and take a nap' and I would be awoken when my sister was ready." "And you couldn't sleep, of course," said Twilight. "Rather, I would not. I intend to be informed the moment this charade begins to crack. I expect that Raven will be along shortly, since evening approaches soon. Any delays in my schedule for raising the Moon would give me legitimate standing to intervene in my sister's affairs," she said. "Besides, I look forward to boxing Raven's delicate ears. Naturally, I shall endeavor to withhold enough force so that the fractures to her skull are minimal." Her eyes narrowed sharply, and Twilight could see an inferno burning within. "Luna!" gasped Twilight. "You can't—" Luna smiled wearily. "I am exaggerating, my little pony. It is my gift," said Luna. "Did we not just discuss this?" "Right," said Twilight, breathing a sigh of relief. "You know, Celestia used to tell me stories about you two. I mean, she used to tell me stories years ago, before her last Lethe invocation. They were... amusing," she added, and smiled for a moment. "Yea, and many of them were enjoyable to experience firsthoof. As far as today's story is concerned, I would prefer for Raven to believe she is about to be eviscerated. Please do not spoil my mirth," said Luna. "Though in full disclosure, my fury is not entirely a work of fiction. It is primarily rage which sustains my wakefulness at this late hour." "Wait a minute. You said Celestia was supposed to meet with us at noon," said Twilight. "But it sounds like you're expecting Raven to show up instead. Do you think your sister is going to be delayed even longer?" Luna sighed and nodded. "They are stalling us for as long as possible, or else Raven would have arrived sooner than this. I do not know why, and it is natural to fear the unknown. This is particularly true when the wellbeing of my sister is at stake," said Luna. Twilight wrinkled her muzzle up with a look of uncertainty. "I don't want to ruin your fun, but I'm not sure it's fair to be angry at her secretary," she said. "I'm sure she's just doing what Celestia told her to do. Raven's just the messenger." "Most likely, yes. But if the messenger knows the wine she brings to her guests is laced with poison, then it is indeed fair for her to share the blame," said Luna. "The mantra of 'following orders' is not an excuse for unethical behavior. If Raven knowingly places my sister in jeopardy with her actions, I do not give a damn whether or not Celestia so ordered it. Raven shall face the full force of my wrath, and she undoubtedly knows this." "Well, hopefully we're just jumping to—" said Twilight. She abruptly stopped as the door creaked open. Raven entered the doorway, levitating a stack of large books and scrolls beside her as she walked in. "So sorry for the delay!" she called in a perky voice, stepping forward. "Celestia will be along shortly, but she nee—" The entire collection of materials tumbled to the ground as Luna's magic gripped Raven by the throat and lifted her up in the air. Twilight's jaw dropped and she froze in her seat. "No more stalling," growled Luna. "You shall give us immediate answers about my sister, or I will end you." All of the tiredness in Luna's face had somehow disappeared. Her nostrils flared and her mouth turned down in a twitching snarl as the muscles in her cheeks and jaw twitched beneath her dark pelt. The secretary struggled in midair and made choking sounds as she dug and raked at her neck with her hooves. "Luna!" shouted Twilight, and Luna released her. Raven fell onto the floor, where she began weakly coughing and drooling. "It would be foalish to tempt me, Raven," said Princess Luna, standing up out of her seat. "Please, take your time to recover your voice. You should think very carefully before you speak again." Twilight held her hooves over her mouth, leaning back in her chair as she looked back and forth between the two ponies. Raven finally stood up straight. She coughed horsely and spit to one side of the table. "Then listen," she wheezed. "I am the only pony in Equestria who knows what's going on, and I intend to follow Celestia's orders exactly. You cannot frighten or torture me into compliance." She lowered her neck and broadened her shoulders into an aggressive stance. Princess Luna fumed, breathing in quick, ragged breaths through her nostrils for a few moments. "Raven, I shall promise you this: if one glowing hair on my sister's mane is harmed through your action or lack thereof, there is no force in all of Equestria that shall save you from my wrath. Not even that one," said Luna, motioning with a cock of her head toward Twilight Sparkle, who sat so rigidly it looked like she were glued to her chair. "Acceptable," said Raven with a sigh, and she relaxed her posture and walked up to the table, ignoring the books and scrolls underhoof and even kicking one to the side. Then she calmly took her seat. Twilight located her tongue. "R-Raven, I really don't think you want to test her right now," she said, placing a forehoof on the table, which inadvertently made a tapping sound as it rattled in place. "I am well aware that Princess Luna excels at the Knave, but even if the threat is genuine, I don't care," said Raven. "You wouldn't guess this by looking at me, but I've lived a remarkably full life. Whatever revenge your honor demands is just another part of my job description. Now I have a task to fulfill, and I aim to do it." "What task?" asked Twilight, speaking very quickly before Luna could say anything more. "I am here to tell you both a story," said Raven. "It is an old story, and one I am in a unique position to tell. I'm the only pony in Equestria who knows it." "This had best not be creative fiction," snarled Princess Luna. "No. It is historical fact, though perhaps with embellishments," said Raven. "History usually has those, and I wasn't personally present for the conversation I'm about to recount." "Does it have a happy ending?" asked Twilight, a fake smile crossing her lips as she rapidly tapped her rear hoof against the floor. "Please say it has a happy ending. I really don't like sad stories." "Neigh, it does not," said Raven. Then she paused with a quizzical expression, and raised a hooftip in front of her muzzle. "On the other hoof, I'm not sure it has an ending at all? Not yet, at least... but I promise it's short." She cleared her throat forcefully, which sounded painful, and reached for a nearby pitcher of water and a glass to nurse her throat. Raven took a long drink while the two princesses stared intently at her. She finally gasped for air, and exhaled deeply. "May I begin?" she asked, then took a second gulp of water. Luna placed her hooves over her face and slumped forward as she regained her seat, the act finally allowing her enervation to show. "If you please," she said, with all the passion fled from her voice. "Good evening, Celestia," the call resounded, echoing throughout the cavern. Star Swirl the Bearded greeted his student with an intensity many decibels louder than necessary. Princess Celestia nearly jumped out of her pelt. She turned around to face the old stallion. Celestia stood directly between him and his writing desk, and froze for a moment before speaking. "I need a spell," she said, and her face relaxed into a gentle, soft smile. It was a subtle sort of look, one oriented at the precise midpoint between at least a dozen different emotions: happiness, deep thought, wistful sorrow, aloof anger, sarcasm, confusion, abject boredom... "Don't you make that face at me young lady," growled Star Swirl, and his bells jingled as his head shook. The expression on her muzzle dropped to a casual frown. "It isn't remotely fair," she said. "You know me too well." "Well, that isn't a bad thing, now is it?" asked Star Swirl, stroking his eponymous beard with a hoof. "And how do you always manage to sneak up on me with those ridiculous bells?" she asked, with half a smirk. "Now you're trying to change the subject by adding levity, in the hopes I'll let you go about your merry way without the awkward conversation we both know we're about to have," he said. Celestia sighed. "Why even bother," she said, her voice more tired than defiant. "I think you know why," said Star Swirl. "Now, you were saying?" "I need a spell," said Celestia, flatly. Her poker face had abandoned her entirely, leaving behind an even mix of resentment and desperation. "Yes, yes, I have plenty of those. Most of them I don't keep in the private study, of course," he said. "I generally save this drafty place for the sort of magic that could unmake reality, were it to fall into the wrong hooves. You know, time travel and other lazy sorts of deus ex machinas—the kind of spells which make for the worst sort of fiction. Such as that spell you have in your saddlebags right there." Star Swirl pointed at Celestia's flank with his levitated staff. "I am not 'the wrong hooves'," said Celestia. "Didn't say you were," said Star Swirl. "But you're not getting out of here without telling me what you plan to do." Celestia placed a hoof over her eyes, shadowing them. "It's too late for you to stop me, and you can't change my mind. What difference does it make?" she asked. "I didn't come here for a lecture." "It will make a difference to you," said Star Swirl. "You must accept whatever terrible thing you're about to do, with your eyes wide open." Celestia kneeled at first, then lay down flat upon the cavern floor. "It's so hard, Star. I miss her so much," she said softly, and her voice wavered. "Yes, yes. I know," said Star Swirl, with a deep sigh. "No, you don't," Celestia said angrily. "This blasted Nightmare Shard. Every night it torments me. I cannot sleep properly. I cannot think properly. I can live like this no longer." "Ah, I see. And you believe this Shard is the true beast that haunts you?" asked Star Swirl. Princess Celestia let out a short, desperate laugh. "No, not really. I know it's just a convenient scapegoat," she admitted. "It's an annoyance compared to the truth: I hate myself for what I've done." "You did precisely what you had to do, and nothing more," soothed the elder pony. "I should have listened to her. I should have paid closer attention. She didn't fall into the darkness alone, Star Swirl. I pushed her there," said Celestia, and she grimaced. The old unicorn stepped up to his charge and lay beside her, a rickety leg blanketing her withers. "I know it was not your intent. You are not perfect, Celestia," he said. "You are flawed. That is what it means to be pony." "Everypony else thinks I'm perfect," she whispered. "They expect it, and they even come up with excuses when I fail. Our citizens look up to me like I'm some sort of god. Even now, the ponies of Canterlot curse my sister's name, as though this were all her fault." "Yes, well, we both know they are ignorant foals," he said. "Now, listen to me, dear. It is true that removing the Shard is beyond my abilities. But depression is something that can be treated..." "It cannot. I have had this—thing—trapped in me for almost eight years," said Celestia. "I blanked myself of the first four, and it did nothing to abate the pain inside. Now it's been another four years, and my heart aches even worse than it did before. I've tried every magical, medical, and menial treatment, and still it worsens with each passing day. I cannot imagine going another decade like this. I simply cannot." "You are needed by Equestria. I am aware the crown is leaden in weight, but at this point in history you are, sadly, the only pony who can maintain order," said Star Swirl. "Not to mention, we unicorns have lost the ability to maintain the Sun and Moon as we once did." "I know. That's why I've taken your spell," said Celestia. "It is the only option." "There are always options," said Star Swirl. "Plural." "No, there are not," countered Celestia. "Options, perhaps, but not true, accessible alternatives. This is the only possible road I can tread." Star Swirl stood up and walked a few hooves away, then turned around and knelt, gazing intently into the princess's eyes. "You could try to withstand the pain. You are far stronger than you know," he said. "I assume you already have an idea of what I intend to do. If I don't do it properly, could my actions destroy Equestria?" she asked. Star Swirl didn't respond, but he nodded solemnly as he stroked his beard. "Then I need you to help me." Star Swirl shook his head, jingling the bells on the brim of his hat. "I will not sign off on this path to destruction." "Neigh," said Celestia. "You will, because you have no choice. Neither of us do." Star Swirl hung his head low and snorted. "Here's how we'll play the game. You tell me what you have planned," he said, "and I will explain to you exactly why it will fail." Celestia swallowed a dry gulp. "I'm going to use your timeport spell with the safety turned off." "Ah. And what good will come of making an unstable clone of yourself?" "I'll make multiple copies," said Celestia. "I'll send each one forward into the future to rule Equestria in my stead, in yearly increments. If I cast the spell a thousand times, that will cover the entire period of your prophesy. Whoever the last clone is will be the Celestia to continue ruling after my sister returns." "Fortunately, the spell you've taken only allows timeporting one year at a time," said Star Swirl. "I'll modify it, then. Difficult, but not impossible," she replied. "Do you realize what will happen to these 'clones'?" asked Star Swirl, a twinge of anger in his voice. "Yes. An unstable clone cannot exist in the same time span with any other pony having the same temporal signature," said Celestia. "Each clone will cease to exist at the moment the next one appears. It's like teleportation, except my memories will be erased each time the next clone replaces the previous." "It is nothing like teleportation, and as my student, you already know this," said Star Swirl, with a deep frown wrinkling his chin even more than normal. "While each clone will maintain the same temporal signature, they differentiate for at least a year. The deconstruction process isn't merely erasing memories. Each clone will die. The expected mental transition is not from one to the next." "Whatever. The distinction is purely academic, and it hasn't been proven," said Celestia. "Shortly prior to Luna's return, a very bright young pony will prove it mathematically," said Star Swirl. "It's death as sure as if you'd burned each of them to cinders." "I'm not afraid to die," said Celestia, stone-faced. "That is only because you wish to die," said Star Swirl, shaking his head dismissively. "Or, more accurately, because you wish to be punished. Being able to end your suffering is merely a psychological bonus." "I don't need to be lectured by you or anypony else about the value of suffering," growled Celestia. "I've already made up my mind." She stood up and began walking, only to find both herself and her mentor surrounded by a glowing, turquoise-hued force bubble. "We're not done just yet," said Star Swirl. "Putting aside the ethical horror of murdering a thousand copies of yourself, your plan will not work." Celestia winced, and sat back down. "Fine. Explain," she asked, staring down at the cavern floor. Star Swirl released the bubble, with an audible 'pop'. "For starters, you will be unable to rule knowing you have but one year to live." "I already told you. I'm prepared to die," said Celestia, with a confused look on her face. "Do you think I'm joking?" "Not at all. But even if you pine for death, your mortality will preoccupy your thoughts. You will be left incapable of governing," said Star Swirl. Celestia paused in thought. "Okay, I'll erase my memory again by casting the Lethe spell. Each clone will erase her memory after being timeported into the right year. I can use the Tree of Harmony to enhance the effect of the spell, so I won't be able to recover my memories even if I try," she said. "It's foalproof." "I'm afraid not. Each clone will spring into being knowing that she is a clone, because the scenery will have changed. You cannot predict your psychological reaction to being in that situation," he said. "Some of the clones may not be willing to follow through with casting Lethe once they realize they are doomed, especially given your desire to be punished." "Then I'll do something to make it so I won't know which clone I am," countered Celestia, with a shrug. "I can hide the environment from my senses. I should be able to cast Lethe through the Tree of Harmony even if I can't see it with my eyes." "Ah, but then you won't know how many times to cast the spell. After you timeport the first clone, you won't know whether you're the original Celestia in 8 Anno Solequus, or the copy of Celestia in 9 Anno Solequus," explained Star Swirl. "So each copy would continue casting timeports. The second casting of the spell will create two clones: one in 10 A.S. cast by the original, and another in 11 A.S. cast by the copy. The third casting will create four, and at this point you'll have two clones appearing at the exact same time and place in 11 A.S. This will cause irreversible fracturing of the spacetime continuum." Princess Celestia quietly cursed, then stood up. "There has to be a way to do this. Can't you just tell me?" she asked. "Neigh," said Star Swirl. "I shan't do any such thing." "Exponential growth of clones... wait a moment," said Celestia, and she trotted up to Star Swirl's desk and began drawing a diagram with quill and ink upon a loose sheet of parchment. "That's it. That's the answer." Star Swirl the Bearded stepped up to his desk and looked at the paper. Celestia had drawn a line with arcs moving from point to point. He closed his eyes and bowed his head tiredly, saying nothing. "I'll use an exponential progression with powers of two. That's also the way I can modify the spell to work beyond a single year," said Celestia, and a sad-looking smile crossed her face. "First, I go to the Tree of Harmony and cast a spell to hide the environment from view. Then I use the Tree to double the length of the timeport spell nine times, and cast the lengthened spell. That will send the first clone 512 years into the future—two to the ninth power," she explained. "Now there will be two Celestias: one still at 8 Anno Solequus, and the other at 520 Anno Solequus. Each of those will create a copy that moves forward 256 years, which is two to the eighth power, and so on. After I finish, there will be 1024 Celestias, each spaced exactly one year apart. Then all of the clones cast four years' worth of Lethe through the Tree, and we'll be in the dark about what happened." "You mean each of you will be standing in the middle of the Everfree Forest without a clue what happened after you banished Nightmare Moon," corrected Star Swirl. "I'll leave notes for myself," she said. "If I can't know I'm going to die, I'll just make something up about going to the tree for a ritual to activate Lethe." "Insufficient. You'll need a confidant," he said. "At least one pony will need to know the truth." "I'll use you, of course," she said. "I refuse," said Star Swirl. "Besides, I won't be around for most of the coming millennium." "Fine. I can get a series of helpers—" "A series? And you expect that the secret won't get out?" he interrupted. Celestia took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll train a single pony, and give them access to age reversal magic." Star Swirl's eyes widened. "Celestia, you cannot be serious. That magic is intended only for alicorns. If anypony were to discover the truth—" "I am serious. And I know the perfect pony for the job," she said. "Kestrel." "Ha! This cannot be the same Kestrel I know," said Star Swirl. "The clerk you told me was a 'psychopath'? The one you were about to fire?" Celestia nodded. "That's exactly why she's perfect. She'll follow my orders, whether or not they're ethical," she said. "We'll have to change her name and manestyle every generation or so, so nopony catches on that age reversal spells exist." "So now you admit that what you plan to do is unethical!" accused Star Swirl. "Of course it is, but it's my life, Star," said Celestia. "Mine to do with as I please." "It most certainly is not! Nothing gives you the authority to kill one-thousand and twenty-three copies of yourself, Celestia! This is mass-murder, by any reasonable definition," he said. "Not according to the law, it isn't," said Celestia. "Besides, I'm acting regent." "The law was never designed to handle these sorts of situations. This is madness, and you know it," growled Star Swirl. "Fortunately, the issue is moot. You cannot govern Equestria with total amnesia once per year. You'll barely have time to review your notes before the next incarnation, and you'll never be able to hide the deficit from your subjects." "Then I'll make it every two years—or maybe four," said Celestia. "It won't be easy, but I think I can survive another four years." "That at least reduces the number of clones to 256, but it's no less appalling," he scoffed. "You could at least try to live a bit past a century, and murder yourself only seven times. Why, that almost takes the 'mass' out of the 'mass-murder' thing." Celestia laughed. "You think I can survive 128 more years? I can't imagine lasting another eight! And what does it matter how many of my clones die?" "It matters, Celestia." "I can do eight years and no longer," argued Celestia. "You can do sixty-four. That's barely a typical pony's lifetime," said Star Swirl. "No. No. Eight is the limit," she said, shaking her head. "You'll be unable to take on students. You'll be unable to focus on long-term projects," said Star Swirl. "You'll have no close friends." Princess Celestia sighed and bowed her head. "Well... I know I can raise a student in sixteen years," she argued. "But even that pushes the limits of my constitution, Star. I can go no further, and that is final." "Thirty-two," offered Star Swirl. "I can't believe I'm haggling over how many times I should kill myself!" said Celestia, with a crazy-sounding laugh. "The difference between killing 63 clones and 31 clones is immaterial. Sixteen years will barely work, so that is what I'll do." "Celestia, I entreat you: listen very carefully. This mad plan of yours will last through 1032 Anno Solequus, except that the last clone will continue on," he said. "If you can find a way to survive 32 years, then the last clone will appear precisely on 1000 A.S., which is when Luna shall return." "So? I don't care about matching years precisely. That's preposterous," she said. "If you only do sixteen-year increments, the clone that appears on 1000 A.S. won't be the last clone. She will be the next-to-last clone," said Star Swirl. "You'll be losing some very important years: the ones spent reuniting with your sister. You'll also be losing years spent with a very important student, one you will have strong emotions toward." An odd look crossed Celestia's face, and her mouth hung open for a moment. "Wait—you can predict this because you've been there, in the future," she realized, and her voice began to elevate in pitch and volume. "You already know I'm going ahead with my plans!" Star Swirl sighed and nodded solemnly. "Then why in Tartarus are we having this argument?" shouted Celestia. Star Swirl the Bearded wiped a teary eye with the hem of his cloak. "Because, my friend," he said, "winning an argument is not the only good reason for having one." "Star Swirl had one last thing to tell Celestia," said Raven. "The Tree of Harmony innately knows the importance of Princess Celestia to the timeline. If one of her clones dies, it would redirect the next one to appear earlier in the timeline. That clone would need to survive longer, of course. With a natural spell duration of sixteen years, the tree can only redirect each spell's target by at most fifteen years." "Did this ever happen?" asked Twilight Sparkle. "As of today, it has happened but once," said Raven. Twilight's brow furrowed in thought. "Okay, this is weird and awful, but why—" she said, then stopped as she heard a soft sobbing beside her. Luna was crying into her legs. "Luna?" asked Twilight. "What's wrong? What does this mean?" Luna lifted her head, her cheeks stained with tears. "It means my sister has thrown herself into the Sun." "What?" gasped Twilight, and she looked toward Raven. "Wait, we can stop her!" "Raven is not one of your young assistant's picture-book villains, Twilight," Luna said, softly. "Surely, this has already occurred." "You are correct. You may 'end me' now, should you wish," Raven replied, very calmly. Luna sighed mournfully. "Of course not." "Very well. Princess Celestia's final clone has recently been retrieved from the Tree. She awaits you both in her chambers," said Raven. Without bothering to pick up any of the books and scrolls littering the floor, Celestia's secretary exited the room.