Strings

by naturalbornderpy

Chapter 7: Mirrors

CHAPTER SEVEN:

MIRRORS

1

Since she had already made note of where it was located in her room, she decided it best to avoid that area altogether. Instead, she busied herself with organizing a few of her dress clothes into the bureau provided. As she pulled out each one she sighed. All were already quite old and yet that seemed not to matter in the slightest. It was then she remembered who had made most of these linens, and all of a sudden the idea of unpacking had lost all of its appeal. So for the next ten minutes she found solace in circling her vast room, still careful to shut out that small part of the wall that she just did not want to see.

For there was a mirror on that wall.

She had looked at me funny, hadn’t she? the alicorn thought while pacing. Although she tried her best and kept her head down, she had peaked and then—

Twilight Sparkle stopped her wayward circles and slowly, cautiously angled her head toward the mirror. What stared back at her was not some monster she might have been avoiding but the youthful, vibrant face of a Princess. Since the years since Tirek’s escape, she had grown until she nearly matched the height of Princess Cadence (although she always found herself a little bulkier than her sister-in-law). Except that was where the aging had stopped. And now she knew that was how she would forever remain. Forever beautiful, forever young, and forever watching the ponies around her grow old while she stayed the same.

Twilight came closer to the mirror to investigate her eyes. She half-expected bags to show prominent, but it seemed that even very diminutive details such as exasperation were still unavailable to immortals.

In the few years that followed Tirek’s destruction of her home and the newly-created place in its stead, Twilight and her group of friends each shared a short time of peace. In her large stone tower they would meet, discuss what needed to be discussed (usually very mundane or trivial such items) and then each would go on to continue with their lives as normal. It was business—it always was in Twilight’s mind—but in the company of friends it felt like something else entirely.

A few years later and Twilight’s friends grew up beside her. Each followed their own interests and each reached that confusing age of young adulthood. At the time, Twilight was happy to see it—happy to share in their excitement and possible future endeavors—but that was only when she felt that she was on the same plane as them.

When more years had passed and their usual monster of the year had never shown its ugly head, the six friends disbanded their little meetings entirely in search of what life would offer them next. Truly, Twilight was not sad to see it go. A piece of her always thought they only stuck around for her benefit, because, honestly, without a cataclysmic event in the works, what was a royal alicorn supposed to fill her time with?

Quickly following this, Twilight relocated to Canterlot to be closer to the other Princesses. Although she’d never admit it to anyone, she would always feel better being around others in the same category as her own. Immortal. Ageless. Peerless. It was only a short time later that she uncovered a dusty book from deep in the vaults of the city library. The words she tried to read were very old and some even required the aid of translation. Still Twilight persevered and read through the ancient tomb in nearly a fortnight. And what she discovered would forever change the years that would follow.

Star Swirl the Bearded had left a diary of sorts, encrypted in a way that only heavy research and scrupulous knowledge could uncover. Every time Twilight managed to carve out the latest nugget of information she could gather, another seemed to fall right in her lap, driving her on, fueling her cause. Some nights, the need to know all the more would keep her awake until the sun would make its appearance over the horizon. Other times, the need for food was replaced with the need to know more—to simply dive deeper and deeper.

Each time an old book had coughed out its last bit of worth, a new book was usually mentioned along with its swan song. From there Twilight would request the book from the Canterlot libraries and the research would continue. And although her eyes should have been bloodshot and her face nothing more than dark bags and crow’s feet, she only continued to be glimpsed as ravishing and youthful—full of that vigor that was all alicorn blood and nothing more.

Only a month after discovering that first book did she leave Canterlot for a place of more reclusive study. At the edge of the Hayseed Swamps and still a stone’s throw away from Baltimare, Twilight set up a small cottage for her ongoing research. Far out and away from everyone she knew or that could bother her, Twilight pestered on and tried to forget just why she never added a mirror to her new place. But such things could be overlooked, couldn’t they? When such valuable research was in the works…

And that’s why she looked at me like that, wasn’t it? she thought gloomily. She tried to hide it, I know she—

“Twilight, you settled yet?”

Spike the dragon pushed open the door to her room, his head barely a foot away from the top of the frame. Just as she had grown to her allotted size, Spike had quickly shot past that and must have been near fully grown.

Twilight turned to greet him. “Just about, Spike. Just getting… comfortable.”

Spike raised a curious brow. “All right. You got some mail already, I guess from the Princess. Let me know what we’re doing next.” Spike set down the letters onto the mantel and shut the door behind him, leaving Twilight alone once more.

From across the room she stared at the letters, no way of reading a word from where she stood. But already she knew what they would say—what they would entail. Her body shut down just from the thought alone.

Ten years on and Spike still remained an oddity. While all of her friends went their separate ways to live life on their own, Spike had remained by her side, no matter how odd or mundane that side might have seemed. Time and again Twilight would try and nudge him away, either with ideas of what the rest of the world offered or simply by what a life with her would lack. Each time Spike would shake his head adamantly and the process would begin anew. His only leisure time at all came once a year when he would camp alongside the great dragon migration for a two week period. It was usually when he would return that Twilight would try and talk some sense into him. All in vain.

A few minutes had already gone by and Twilight was still staring at her letters from across the room. Instead of levitating them over, she approached them slowly, like she would a dangerous animal thought unconscious. The one on top was blindingly pink and her heart sank because of it. She knew exactly who it was from. And already she knew exactly what it would say.

“Oh Celestia,” Twilight whimpered, before collapsing onto her bed. “Why did you drag me out here?”

The idea of visiting Canterlot for the first time in a long time had not come from Twilight’s own wish to do so; a letter had come (thankfully from the fireplace in her cabin and not the blaring mouth of a near fully grown dragon) and inside Celestia made mention of a visit. In a much nicer tone Celestia had said too much time had passed and the citizens of Equestria were starting to question just what had happened to their latest Princess. Since Twilight could not disagree, she regretfully left the safety of her studies and shelter, and made her way back home.

But still more than anything she did not want to open that first letter.

2

Even before attempting to nudge its finely sealed creases Twilight knew she had been invited to a party. Not just any one, either, but a Pinky Pie one. Although she was curious to know just how many of her old friends would attend such a function, the nagging thought of what had happened before still clung to her like tar.

It was nothing that was said per say but perhaps the absence of it. Each one of her friends had aged as they should have—as Twilight should have, truthfully—but the alicorn in the room still stood stark compared to the others. Although none of her friends would dare make mention of such an oddity, their looks could not mask what she knew they felt inside. Twilight had become something else, those looks had told her. She was now more a ‘being’ than a friend.

While locked away in her cabin by the woods, she would make weekly runs into Baltimare for food and provisions. A few times she had caught the eyes of prominent colts and a few times this had lead to something more. Her longest relationship had lasted seven months and she could honestly say she had been happy and content throughout most of it. It was only when the date of her birth came to pass (as much as she’d try and forget its existence) that everything came to a halt. Perhaps it was only the candles, she would try and reason later on. Perhaps if there had been no candles, things would have turned out differently. Spike, the ever trusting guardian that he was, had told Twilight’s coltfriend on just what day her birthday fell. So like any good pony, he threw her a small party for two. But that only served to bring everything to a front.

Without even blowing out her candles she had run from her own home. Without even ending things properly, she had sent her love a letter with a hastily written note of explanation. She could never tell him the real reason for the split (he would try and win her back, she knew, she just knew); she only hoped her words were not as harsh as she felt they might have been.

What happens when I’m a hundred and five and there’s no cake big enough in Equestria to hold that many candles?

Afterwards Twilight could only remind herself she was doing him a favor.

“Who could ever marry an immortal?” she asked the ceiling of her Canterlot room. “Who could ever even love one?”

At some point over the years Twilight had made the decision to refrain from getting close to anyone of importance. As she saw it, they would grow old and die as she would stay young and grieve. What kind of life was that to live? If all there was to look forward to was the ageing and death of everyone you ever made contact with, what kind of life was that to lead?

To her there was no question anymore. She couldn’t get close. She wouldn’t get close.

And then her thoughts came back to that mare that had helped check her in that morning.

She had greeted her pleasantly enough (her eyes going a little wide as she recognized just who it was), but it was when she turned to look for her room key that things changed. There had been a wall mirror above the receptionist’s area, and Twilight had caught the mare glimpsing at her reflection for the briefest of moments. The receptionist had been there for years now, even before Twilight had received her wings and become an alicorn. And that same receptionist was still there, helping that same pony—that same ageless pony. Only now she had something to compare it all to; the lines on her own face, the natural age of her own body.

It was enough to make Twilight want to run out the building and back to her hovel of a home. Instead she smiled as she took her key and tried to show her that everything was fine, that being a Princess was everything that little filly’s dreams made it out to be, and that no strings could ever hope to be attached to such a wish.

Only Twilight would never admit to such a thing.

For a few minutes more Twilight lay in bed and truly wondered when she’d find the nerve to get back up. That was when one of her letters (the one tucked neatly under the bright pink one) expanded in size before exploding in a wash of white light.

3

“Gah! Oh jeeze!”

Rough coughing followed this short outburst, and when the smoke finally cleared Twilight craned her head to look at the draconequus that had only seconds ago materialized in her room.

“Discord,” she greeted plainly.

He sharply coughed a few more times into a hand. “Were you ever going to open me? Or were you only going to throw me in the fire once you were done laying around?” He stretched out his elongated back, complete with pops. “I might be able to squish myself into an envelope, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still rough on the joints, Princess.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

“Well I wish you would.” Discord summoned a gold crown and scepter onto himself. “I would look absolutely smashing!”

It was odd, Twilight found, that Discord’s presence actually helped lift her from her sorrows. In the years that had followed his betrayal with Tirek, she honestly never thought she could trust him again. But every time she had words with Celestia through letter—and every time the name Discord came up in conversation—she had slowly found he had become something of a staple in Canterlot. More so than that, Twilight figured it was also their immortality that might have given strength to their bond. Even when everyone else would be long gone and buried, there’d still be Discord for all time, she thought oddly.

“What is it you want, Discord?” she asked.

Discord began pacing around the room, as if every word he spoke had immediate importance. “Oh, just wanted to say hello and how you been and why don’t you write anymore and also to let you know that the Princesses might be a tad busy this week, what with all the fires they’re putting out and such. But I’m sure you know all about that already.”

Twilight hadn’t heard a word from anyone since checking in. “There’s some emergency going on?”

“I wouldn’t call it that, Twilight. I’d call it a misunderstanding. You know how Celestia likes to jump to whatever conclusion looks the worst.”

Sadly, Twilight couldn’t fully disagree with the draconequus. Celestia—as wise and experienced as she was—had the habit of viewing dangers where there were none to begin with. Twilight had always thought it was her way of making up for all those times an enemy from her past had reappeared for Twilight and her friends to vanquish.

She said, “So you don’t think Celestia will have any time while I’m here?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Twilight. It just might be difficult to get in a minute edgewise.” Discord went to the pink envelope that had been thrown to the floor and picked it up. “I wonder who this could be from?” He opened it, only to be showered with multicolored confetti. He said bluntly: “Now I think I know. And I’m not invited? What horror!”

“I wouldn’t take it too hard, Discord. I’m not even sure if I’ll be going. It’s been… a long time since we’ve been together. To think who’ll even show up drives me crazy.”

Discord set the letter down and sat on the bed beside her. He wrapped an extended arm around her, pulling her in until she was mashed up beside him.

“You’re worried about them looking older, aren’t you?” he said softly.

“I’m more worried about myself looking the same. I should be their age; I should look just like them. I shouldn’t have to remind ponies of how old I am without them thinking I’m just… youthful.”

Discord sighed. “Although I don’t share your complete understanding, I too know what it’s like to have those feelings. Even in the last few years I’ve found myself distancing away from certain ponies, even Fluttershy. I’ve learned that she has her own life and I have mine. And sometimes it gets… difficult to watch them grow while you sort of, stand still and watch.” He paused. “Are you saying you regret becoming an alicorn, Twilight? Celestia only gave this gift to you because she thought it would be a benefit to all of Equestria, you know.”

Twilight lowered her head and pulled away from him. She could tell he was looking down at her, but she didn’t want to meet those eyes. “I’m not sure what I’m saying, Discord. Only that… it’s not what I expected it to be. Not at all.”

Twilight’s heavy words left a downcast feel to the room. Discord abruptly left the bed to face her. “Enough of this gloominess, Twilight. Tell me something good. Tell me how your research fairs.”

“You heard about all that?” she asked, finally looking up.

“It’s the reason you’re out in the middle of nowhere with nothing for company but books, isn’t it? Celestia likes to keep me up to date with how you’re doing once in a while.”

Twilight smiled for the first time that day. It had just been made clear that the few ponies she could actually hold on to forever cared about her unconditionally, and it was a tremendous feeling. “It’s going well, actually. This must be the hardest I’ve ever pushed myself in the spirit of research, but I feel an end coming on. I also think I know where this all might be leading to.”

Discord put both hands on his knees. “Really? Besides just another book detailing how many books you’ve read? Do tell!”

“Well… I…” Twilight then discovered she had spoken too soon. Although she was certain her information was correct, the subject matter might have been better suited for someone other than her present company. “It actually might be about the Elements of Harmony.”

Discord stood back up and raised a single brow. “Oh?”

Suddenly Twilight felt nervous. “Yes. Um—a new Elements of Harmony. Undiscovered until now. It seemed as if Star Swirl the Bearded might have found them and hidden them years ago, and left cryptic clues to their whereabouts.”

For a long moment Discord’s face said nothing of his inner feelings. Then he broke out with a grin. “I hope you don’t plan on using those on me, Twilight!”

Twilight giggled lightly, more from the break of tension than anything. “I wouldn’t worry, Discord. If that really is what’s at the end of all this research, then it’s still a good long ways away. But I know I’ll get there eventually.”

“I’m glad you have your priorities then, Twilight. But I should be off. Equestria’s not going to run itself, is it?”

Twilight shrugged. “I guess not.” She paused for a second. “Thanks for visiting, Discord. It’s nice to know I still have friends somewhere in the world.”

“And you always will, Twilight,” he said, before vanishing into vapor.

When the smoke cleared Twilight edged off the bed and grabbed the envelope from the floor, a few strands of confetti still clinging to its edges. For another long time she stared at it—everything it meant and everything it could mean—then she brought it to the fire to dispose of.

“Sorry girls,” she said aloud, before thinking, But I’m just not the same friend you once knew.

4

Celestia had been busy pouring over a dozen different sized maps and papers the moment Luna entered her chambers. While she shuffled a document and then viewed another in fine detail, her sister stood to the side, awaiting her attention. If the pony left the tavern and was going this way… she mused in seemingly ruminating circles of thought. But what if I’m wrong? And there’s more than one of them? What if this is merely some group of unicorns who—

“Ahem.”

Celestia shook to her senses and finally regarded her younger sister.

“I am sorry, Luna. But it’s already been a few days and this incident still has me rattled. I still can’t understand who’s done this or why. But, I digress, what do you need?”

Luna fidgeted for a moment, hard-pressed to say what was on her mind. “Twilight Sparkle has already left Canterlot for home. She regrets she couldn’t have visited.”

Celestia sighed and could feel no anger for the slight. Since Twilight had arrived—had it only been two days ago?—she had locked herself away with plans and maps and seemingly nothing more. And now it appeared she had completely forgotten she had invited her only student for a visit. But wasn’t there something else? Oh yes—

“Did she visit with her friends at least?” she asked hopefully.

Luna looked down. “I do not know. Whatever she might have done during her brief time here, not many ponies had seen. Although… she did send a letter just after departing.”

“Oh really? To try and explain just where she went?”

“No, actually.” Luna hesitated. “She asked for a visit in return… from me.”

Celestia chewed the news for a second. “She wants you to visit her?”

“I know it sounds odd, but she says it’s for the research she’s been conducting these last few years. She says I might know a lot more of the history she’s been looking into—help give her a hoof if needed. It would only be for a few weeks, she said, at most.”

Celestia stared ahead to think. Then she tried to shoo away that pang of hurtfulness that had abruptly materialized in her chest. “I guess she figured I’d be too busy for such a thing…”

Luna’s eyes widened as she caught what her sister was insinuating. “No, sister, no. I do not believe Twilight is asking myself over you for any reason other than your duties. She knows how important your role as protector of this land is. And also our knowledge of histories must be evenly matched.”

Celestia nodded at the right moments. Agreeing completely but not feeling all that much better for it. “I think Twilight could use a friend right now, I really do. So I will grant you leave to go,” she said, before looking back at her cluster of maps. “But if something should arise I need to know that both you and Twilight will be back here to help defend Equestria. At any time.”

Luna bowed her head. “I would not have it any other way, sister. If this threat persists, we will be back with haste, along with the fury of the alicorn.”

While Luna couldn’t view her sister with her head to the floor, Celestia smiled wearily. Thousands of years she had known her, and yet even to this day she could continue to be surprised by her loyalty and passion. It was moments such as these that made her believe a lifetime of peace was truly possible for the pair.

Luna put her head back up. “Then I will get ready and depart. Good luck, Celestia.”

“To you too, Luna. And wish Twilight well,” she said, as she watched Luna exit her large chamber.

And although her maps had shown her nothing new in the hours since she’d started her search, Celestia still felt something was amiss in her land.

Comments

[DF]

“Who could ever marry an immortal?” she asked the ceiling of her Canterlot room. “Who could ever even love one?”

. . . I guess Twilight must be further gone than I thought. She seems to have completely forgetten about the reason she has a sister-in-law.