The Tale of Two Sisters

by Underwood

Chapter 13: Desperate Times

Timeless days passed as Starswirl laboured over his masterwork, stuck in an endless cycle of revisions, research, and restarting. Celestia had finally begun living her life the way that she had always dreamed: like an average townspony foal. She had enrolled in the local school under Ms. Applecore, enjoying the daily routine and mundane adventures that she shared with her classmates, free from the strict tutoring of the court wizard for the time being. With the young filly more independent than ever, baby Luna's care fell primarily to Starswirl, who struggled to meet the needs of even such a temperate child. As much as he loathed asking for help, the neighbourly nature of the townsponies—even without Meadow Flower's influence, or perhaps because of it—meant that it wasn't hard to find a foalsitter every now and then, so he could truly focus on his studies. An unintended side-effect of these requests was that the self-isolating unicorn was finally getting some much needed practice with his pony-skills, to the point that he was starting to quite enjoy his regular trips to Goldcrest Finch's general store, though neither pony would admit to such a thing.

One might think a pony could get lost in the quaint tranquillity of this seaside village, forgetting any reason they had to leave—and while that might be true of the eldest sister, that was certainly not the case for the crestfallen wizard. Guilt haunted his dreams and expectations stalked his mind every day, urging him on to find a cure to this world's new disease: Discord. Of course he could not have known the consequences of his actions; of course no pony would expect him to overcome such an apocalyptic obstacle alone, and yet those were the standards he set for himself, for he was the only one left to blame. His own needs began to pale in necessity to his work, as once daily rituals like shaving and sleeping had lost all significance, leaving him with salt-and-pepper stubble and sunken eyes. The townsponies pressed him for the cause of his distress, but he could not tell them of course; and what help would they be beyond foalsitting anyway? He could only hope that the Council of the Nine had not been lost in the initial attack, or he truly was the only one who could stop this menace...

---

Three Weeks Ago; Discord's Arrival
Blue fires burst from the archways surrounding a large, circular room steeped in shadow, casting flickering cerulean across the large, horseshoe-like table that filled most of the room. The flames stabilised and opened into ovoid portals as unicorns stepped forth from each, calmly making their way to their assigned seats around the circumference. A soft, white light awakened from a mass of glowing roots that stretched haphazardly across the ceiling, leaving the room with a dim, other-worldly luminance as the portals closed. Already sat at the apex of the semi-circular table was an aged pony, floating in a meditative trance with his hindlegs crossed and eyes closed, having not left his vigil since the Great Griffon War. His name was Myriddius Lex, younger brother to King Cosmos Hyperion Sol and Adjunct of the Council of the Nine. It was by his wisdom that the congress was conducted, acting as intermediate and judge between the four members of each side of the podium, who represented the opposing sides of every argument called before them. To call this pony elderly would be an understatement, as the younger brother of the King was still a few hundred years old at this point, despite being a very mortal unicorn. While his alicorn sibling barely looked middle-aged, Lex's head was as bald as his grey beard was long, reaching all the way down to the floor from his chin, which a laypony might mistake for what was keeping him aloft.

The Council of the Nine was formed as authority on all things magical after the King's unchecked and devastating power became a worry for Equestria's citizens during the war. Since then, the Council routinely gathered to conduct debates on magical advances, teaching practices, and other matters of concern—and what could be of more concern than the collapse of the monarchy via an extra-dimensional entity?

With the table now surrounded by all of its present members, bar two empty stools, one of the unicorns' horns began to glow; a signal that they wished to speak, which was acquiesced by the attention of Myriddius from beneath his long, thick eyebrows.

“For what do you call us here on such short notice, Arbiter Myriddius?” the snooty mare asked, her upturned nose as emblematic of her personality as her voice. Her question was met with general grumbles of agreement from around the room.

The ancient pony turned back to the centre of the room, breaking his silence with a voice as slow and creaking as his old bones. “There has been- a great calamity- wrought upon Canterlot.”

The chamber filled with murmurs once more as eyes drifted toward the empty seat of Canterlot's Council representative, Stargazer the Spectacled.

“The great King of Equestria- has fallen,” he continued, to a wave of shocked gasps and slacked jaws.

“Myriddius, your brother-!” a balding stallion called out, to the silent derision of his peers, having not waited for the Arbiter to yield the floor.

Overlooking the flout of procedure, their moderator continued. “Indeed. As great a loss- as this is, there is a greater- threat we face.”

Another stallion's horn glowed with teal magic, who was granted his turn.

“You must of course be speaking of the perpetrator of the crime. Are they still at large? When did this happen?”

Myriddius gave a single, slow nod. “They are. I sent word- as soon as I felt- the disturbance. Though it was too late- to change the outcome, the usurper remains-”

The elder pony stopped as a sudden burst of a blue flame erupted from a hitherto unused archway, resulting in the entrance of a unicorn with a distinctive, orange, curly-mane and blue, star-speckled cloak. He casually trotted up to his vacant chair and took his place among the Council, taking a moment to adjust his multi-lensed glasses before addressing all the eyes on him.

“Apologies. I received your summons, but was side-tracked while wrapping up work on my latest celestial discovery. Did I miss much?”

The room stared at the brown pony as though he had spoken some unknown faux pas, leaving him mildly confused during the awkward silence.

“Your absence- was quite worrisome, Councillor Stargazer, though your presence- is gratefully received. Are you not aware- of what has befallen- Canterlot Palace?”

“I'm sorry, Arbiter, but I know not of what you speak.”

The chamber was filled once more with judgemental mumblings, much to the lackadaisical stupor of the astrologist.

“Then you- are one of few fortunates. Canterlot—your ward—has fallen, as has our King.”

“W-What? That's impossible! I- I would know! I-” Stargazer's glasses slipped down his muzzle as his body tensed up. This was a joke, right?

“Your local residence is on the outskirts of the town, is it not?” an angry mare spoke out, throwing decorum to the wind.

“W- Well yes. I must avoid light pollution-”

“And while the city crumbles around you, you couldn't help but stay glued to your skyward seeing-glass?” the balding pony called out.

“'Telescope'. And had I known-”

“Councillors, enough.” Despite the dry wisp of his voice, a single word from the Arbiter commanded immediate silence from the room. “This is not- a time for division. We must unite- under the singular purpose- of regaining control- of our capitol.”

“Yes, that does sound like a good idea, doesn't it?” an unfamiliar voice retorted, echoing throughout the enclosed chamber.

“Who goes there?!” the posh-voiced mare demanded towards their unseen addresser. It was unheard of for an unauthorised pony to enter the Council's sanctum, as only their membership's gold medallion can open portals to this sealed room, deep in the heart of Canterlot's Friendship Mountain.

From above their heads, one of the luminescent roots began to shape-shift, curling and twisting down through the air like a weightless snake, before landing on one hoof and two claws. Within the blink of an eye, all seven councillors were on their hoofs with magic at the ready.

“Not bad, I must say,” the patchwork creature sneered, lounging back mid-air. “Not much to speak of individually, but together you might just be stronger than that winged one.”

“W-Who are you?!” Stargazer cried, attempting to compensate for the fear quaking his entire body.

“This is the one- who felled our King,” Myriddius spoke, remaining as stoic as ever. “A being- of another plain.”

“King, eh?” Discord picked at his nails dismissively. “Well, it's only natural that I'd visit the next on the magical food chain, as it were. Rather than let things end as quickly again, I'll offer you a little game in exchange for your lives.”

“What do you speak of, Beast?” another councillor snarled as magic crackled off her horn.

“Oh it's quite simple. You'll find that those little trinkets of yours don't work anymore.” He gestured towards one of the ponies' Council medallions, each displayed pridefully as a cape brooch. “No way in or out, it seems. Show me a little ingenuity by making it out alive, and I'll let you take the first shot. Deal?”

“This is insanity!” A young, purple-haired stallion placed a hoof on his medallion, turning to the archway he had entered through and waiting for an azure flame to burst forth. “Such magic is impossible! It- … It-” As his panic steadily increased at the lack of a reaction, other council members tried their own charms to similar effect.

“I'm not yet au fait with your kind's life cycles, so I'll pop back in one-hundred moons to see how you're getting on. Ta-ta!”

And with that, the malevolent creature vanished in a flash, leaving the eight trapped ponies to panic. Not even the Arbiter's call to order was enough to calm the unicorns this time, who had desperately begun shooting and hoofing at the solid stone walls of the mountain. Moving for the first time in who knows how long, Myriddius slammed his hoof onto the bench before him, causing the councillors to burst into the air and float helplessly, struggling and spinning against the lack of friction.

“I said: be calm,” he reiterated, waiting for composure to return to the room before placing them back on the ground. “Be seated.”

Despite their panicked eyed and involuntary shaking, the councillors returned to their seats; some clasping their heads, while others rocked on their stools.

“Arbiter Myriddius. What- What can we do?!” Stargazer stammered through his chattering teeth.

“What was that thing?!” another called out.

“Clearly we face- an opponent- the likes of which- we have never seen,” the aged unicorn replied, as calm and temperate as ever, retracting his hoof to its usual meditative position. “As the greatest- magical minds in Equestria, I am assured- that we shall devise a way- to leave this chamber unaided- by the medallions.”

“By what means?!” the snooty mare screeched. “Blindly teleporting will land us inside the mountain, and we shall expire long before digging through such rock with just magic!”

“We—if nothing else—have time to consider the alternatives,” he replied, slowly lowering himself to his hindlegs, with his forehooves now resting on the table. “For we are the last- hope of Equestria.”

---

Having witnessed Discord overpower an alicorn first-hoof, Starswirl knew it was only a matter of time before boredom would drive him to seek out greater thrills, or even worse, be done with ponykind entirely. He could not rely on a cavalry to save the day, and his own progress had crawled to a halt after its initial inspiration. He had tried and failed multiple times to concoct an incantation around the concept of shared pony magic, but the verses just weren't aligning, and one wrong word could destroy everything he sought to protect. If only more research had been carried out on that theoretical 'sixth element' that all ponies shared, it could have been the linchpin of the incantation. Instead, his desperation had turned him to yet another banned practice—one equally as dangerous, but with a potentially superior outcome—time travel.

There was a very good reason why chronomancy was given the black mark, of course, as one action could potentially rewrite all of history and the present as it is known. The Council of the Nine analogized this event succinctly with the term 'ripple effect', whereby they liken time travel to a small stone thrown into a lake, creating large and far-reaching waves. Such a description was far too over-simplified for his tastes, but it was nevertheless effective on the non-magic masses, immediately turning public opinion against the practice. That said, it was a purely preventative measure, as no pony has ever documented an attempt at time travel, and it would be utterly undetectable and thus unenforceable if they had succeeded. While the utter destruction of the world as he knew it loomed heavily over the prospect of time travel, there also existed the possibility of undoing all of the destruction Discord had already wrought. It gave Starswirl butterflies to imagine travelling back in time to the castle and confronting himself before he cast the mirror spell. Or would travelling back overwrite the past copy of himself? What if reality itself could not handle such an encounter, trapping the entire universe in a never-ending time-loop? After all, he had no memory of meeting himself in the past, so did that mean it could not happen in the future—the future's past, that is—or were the timelines separate, meaning he would only be saving an alternate version of past-Equestria, and not his own? There were so many possibilities and variables that it made his head spin, requiring him to lean back and avert his eyes to the rafters.

“There is nothing more dangerous than the unknown,” he mused to himself, watching the small ceiling-window pivot in the breeze. What he wouldn't give to see Hephaestus the Phoenix glide through that opening and perch upon his banister once more, as though this had all been a bad dream. But he knew this was no dream. This was more real than anypony would have liked, and it fell to him to mitigate the disaster he had summoned into this world: Discord. That name would remain with him for as long as he lived, as would the atrocities he had witnessed, but if he were able to at least rid that burden from the minds of others...

The ex-court wizard returned to the parchment with a heavy sigh and removed his quill from its pot, risking a blot as it hung tentatively above the page while he collected his thoughts. Just as he was about to put ink to paper, a sudden flash from above caused him to flinch, sending him backwards and off the stool.

“CELESTIA!” he bellowed from his floored position, eyes still closed, but knowing only one pony who could cause such an occurrence.

A surprising thwap to the chest jolted his eyes open, which were drawn to an unknown scroll now resting atop him. The curled parchment was old and worn, not dissimilar to his own, but far more aged than the quire he had given Celestia to use, unless she had snuck in and stolen more.

“Celestia?” he tentatively probed again, though the silent tower remained resolute.

It was unlikely to be the Princess anyway, as she should still be in Ms. Applecore's class at this hour. But if it was not her, and he was not sensing any unusual presence nearby, then where in Equestria did this thing come from?

He pushed himself off the floor and righted his stool, slid his work-in-progress aside and set the mystery scroll in its place. Let's see... No wax seal, so no crest, and the paper itself is in pretty bad shape, almost torn clean in half. He unravelled the document with his hooves and stared with increasing confusion at what lay before him. This was- This was his writing! But he had no recollection of writing such a missive, and more to the point, the contents of the document was a completed time travel spell! Was this some kind of joke? Some well timed jape on the part of Stargazer, to get back at him for using his home? No- No, Stargazer was not smart or witty enough for a prank of this kind. The more he stared at the faded ink, the more his brow furrowed. While the majority of the document appeared to be in his own penmanship, there were a number of alterations and notes made further down in a script he did not recognise, in much fresher ink. What in Equestia was the meaning of this?

Placing various objects on the scroll's corners to keep it flat, Starswirl backed away from the desk and readied an anti-counterfeit spell with his horn, blasting it at the unsettling parchment. The paper crackled and sparked as the more recent alterations were burnt off, evaporating into a light green mist, yet as the light faded from the text, it was clear that the original document had remained otherwise untouched. This was- This was impossible! How could such a scroll be real? How could he pen knowledge he did not know?! And who had sent it to him? Could it be from a future-self expecting him to use the spell, remembering that he was thinking about just such a solution in the past he had already lived? His head pounded with the infinite possibilities afforded by successful time-travel, driving him to seek the solace of his stool. No, this was too convenient; his future-self would know that his past-self—his present self—would be suspicious of this scroll, so was this yet another of Discord's little games? Yet if Discord had known where he and the Princesses had been this entire time, would he not have come to gloat face-to-face? An inexplicable scroll did not seem like the creature's style, nor does it explain how it perfectly matches his cursive. This was... an anomaly, to be sure. As his eyes repeatedly raced across the sheet and a headache began to set in, Starswirl felt a sudden need to check on the sisters. Leaving everything as it was, he turned and galloped down the stone spire's staircase as fast as he could, slamming through the front door without caring to close it.

Running as fast as he could through town, the undercover wizard skidded to a halt just outside the window of Ms. Applecore's classroom, wherein Celestia and the other foals were listening to a surprisingly animated reading of a book. He briefly let out a relieved sigh at this sight, before picking up speed again towards the village pier. Arriving thoroughly out of breath, he looked up at the thick mast that held aloft Bluebeak's half-nest, half-cabin. As the commune's lookout/lighthouse, this residence was not only exemplary of griffon architecture, but gave him a perfect vantage over the South Brine. Catching his breath, Starswirl teleported up the beam and into the main room—knowing its layout fairly well from previous visits. The sudden appearance of an intruder in his home caused Bluebeak to squawk in shock and nearly fall off his clawmade recliner, releasing a flurry of feathers into the air as he attempted to remain upright.

“O- Oh, my apologies. I did not mean to startle you.”

The sea-hued half-lion, half-eagle spat a loose feather out of his beak with a scowl. “Why are you back so soon? It's barely past midday.” As he said this, the sun ducked out of sight, giving him something new to glare at through his panoramic, open-air window.

“Yes, I'm aware I'm quite early, I just... I just needed to check up on the Pr-” He caught himself just before making a major mistake, instead turning it into a forced cough. It was not like him to feel this flustered. “Excuse me, I must have inhaled a feather.” Unfortunately this regained Bluebeak's irate attention. “I just wanted to see how she is doing. No reason, really. Just a feeling.”

“Can't trust the griffon, huh?” His brow somehow furrowed even deeper—truly a spectacle to behold if it weren't so intimidating.

“Come now, Bluebeak, I would not have left her in your care if I did not trust you. I thought we had covered this.”

After the initial impression he had given at their welcoming party, followed by the departure of Meadow Flower and Ustiarius, it behoved Starswirl to reach out to the unlikely townspon—uh, -creature—and make amends, given their projected long-term proximity. What started as an uncomfortable and forced encounter between the two slowly softened as they discovered shared opinions, such as feeling like a social pariah, and abhorring the concept of war. While neither would go so far as to call the other 'friend', they had grown a mutual respect, and Starswirl considered himself a good enough judge of character that when caring for Luna became too much for him, the griffon was his first choice for temporary caretaker. Despite initial reluctance, the griffon's heart soon warmed to the small, pastel-blue filly.

Bluebeak grumbled in reply to the rhetorical question, though the words alone had already softened his mood. As he turned his attention back to the waterscape, the griffon motioned back with his taloned thumb to a particularly cosy looking nest on the opposite side of the room. With a courteous nod, Starswirl approached the bundle of hay, twigs, and leaves, topped with a patterned blanket. Pulling back the warm cover revealed a small blue face snoozing happily. Good, Luna was still safe, that was a load off his mind.

“Bluebeak,” he began, crossing the room back to the bay window, beyond which sprawled the star-dappled South Sea. “Should anything happen... Can I trust you to do everything in your power to protect her?”

The griffon turned to the wizard, who was staring morosely toward the dark horizon. “What are you talking about?”

“Only-” He exhaled, having trouble vocalising his concern. “I... have come to care for these girls quite deeply since they came into my care. I have never been much of one for relying on others; I know what I can do, but other ponies—or, uh- creatures—are an unknown variable. We spoke of this before.”

Bluebeak didn't reply immediately, attempting to decipher an answer from his reply. “Sure. What kind of trouble are you expecting, exactly?”

“Oh, uh- Nothing specific...” He trailed off, racking his brain for a believable excuse for his paranoia.

“I know how these ponies are—one of the benefits of living in a small settlement—and surely you must have assessed them yourself by now. None of these ponies would do anything to your fillies, and the only other visitors we get here are the same old traders, so unless you're expecting some unwanted company..?”

Starswirl struggled for an answer that would both protect their secret, while imparting the severity of the situation upon an outsider. Perhaps he was being selfishly reckless, but he would do anything to hear some reassurance right now. Ustiarius had been far better at thinking on his hooves like this. Curse him for leaving.

The griffon sighed, having waited long enough for an answer. “I understand the importance of one's young.” He turned back to the seascape as golden rays began to creep above its rim. “I had my own prodigy once. Went off to war and never came back. Came to Equestria to find him, but... Ended up here.”

“Bluebeak, I'm so-”

“There ain't a single day I don't think about him,” he continued. “Think I'll see him fly over the horizon at any moment, carrying that proud smile he always had. It's been years, of course. He ain't coming. He's long since gone.”

Starswirl bit his cheek, unsure how to deal with this new situation he'd found himself.

“What I'm saying is you needn't fret; I know the value of a nestling. Were anything to happen, I'd fight to the death like she were my own.”

Starswirl turned to the stone-faced griffon in awe, shocked that a relative stranger would go so far, and show such vulnerability. The topics in their earlier discussion had only been surface-level, but this time he seemed to have struck a nerve in the normally reticent creature. It was astonishing how so few words had conveyed so much information and emotion, without once breaking his stoic composure. Were all griffons like this? They do say that 'still waters run deep', but he never would have imagined preferring the company of a non-pony to his equine peers, despite their typically overly-talkative nature. Despite his internal condemnation of the war, he had still felt pride over their cause and eventual victory, but to think that noble creatures such as Bluebeak may have fallen that day—including his son, no less—to spells that he himself had written... Were Bluebeak to learn of his role in the war, he would no doubt be far from as charitable as he was being, and rightfully so. Ponykind's victory was starting to feel less righteous, but what would the alternative have been; submitting to griffon rule? No, sometimes horrible things must be wrought simply to survive, but if he had any say in the future of Equestria, he would make sure that such a situation would never have to come to pass again. Life is hard enough without creatures fighting one another.

“Satisfied?”

The question snapped Starswirl back to the room with a momentary dizziness. “P-Pardon?”

“You're staring at me.” He turned to the pony, his eyes cold and haggard from years of torment. “Are you satisfied your filly is safe here?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, thank you.” After a single nod, Starswirl retreated to the front door and paused, wanting to say something as meaningful in return, but simply unable to articulate anything that wasn't a lie or unworthy. “I shall return for her later... friend.”

Starswirl teleported out of the house without waiting for a reply, leaving Bluebeak alone with Luna and the scenery once more, allowing him the privacy to crack a small, wistful smile.

Making his way back through the town square, Starswirl slowly made his way back to Stargazer's holiday home, his mind now temporarily free of the stress that came with his role as caregiver to the Princesses. Ascending the cold, grey, stone stairs to the comfort of his study once more, he might have found the scene comforting if it weren't for the unwelcome parchment still sprawled across his desk. He had quietly hoped that it would disappear during his brief outing, so he could chalk it up to the broken nerves of an overworked mind, yet there it still sat, just where he had left it. He slumped onto his well-worn stool, finding the familiar groves much in the same way a farmer dons his age-warped harness, before focusing intently on the inked paper before him. Why here? Why now? If his future self sought to change his past, then why not send it sooner? Or more importantly, if he had gained knowledge of time-travel, why not simply cast the spell in the future? No, there were simply too many red flags for him to take in stride; he would contain the scroll and continue with his own research as if it had never arrived, maybe returning to it when he had sufficient time and resources to not make any rash decisions.

Removing the weights from the scroll, he levitated it over to his trunk and pulled out a bronze cylinder, specifically designed for storing and dampening spells. Securing the screw-lid over the paradoxical parchment and returning it to the chest, the wizard ambled back to his station with a sigh, feeling thoroughly deflated by the day's events. He looked at the small mountain of crumpled paper to his right, all failed attempts at his cutie-mark-linking spell. It could take him decades to find the perfect solution for something that could happen in the blink of an eye. What he needed was more time... More time. He sat up, calculations and projection suddenly racing through his mind. Travelling through time was far too risky a proposition, but what about travelling between it? What if he could create a sort of... hyperbolic time bubble, giving them a day of preparation within a second? He already had experience with pocket dimensions, namely his trusty trunk, so the main challenges would be increasing the passage of time, and maintaining supplies while isolated.

Brushing off what remained of his previous attempts to the floor, Starswirl swept up a new sheet of yellowed paper with his magic and immediately began scribbling down theories and equations, finally feeling as though he were on the right track. If Discord would not give them time to prepare, then he would make the time.

Celestia returned home as the sun began to set again—this time at the appropriate hour, by pure coincidence—having enjoyed a relatively easy day of learning and socialising, just like a regular filly her age should. Despite climbing all the way up the wizard's tower to greet him, all she received for her trouble was instructions to pick her sister up from Bluebeak and prepare her own meal before bed. The next day followed the same pattern, with the elder unicorn so absorbed in his new endeavour that he didn't even stop to sleep, at least not intentionally. As the subsequent day dawned, Starswirl paused to review his pages upon pages of scribblings, hypothesis, and reference notes, eyes red and blurry. This... This could actually work! A sudden chill ran up his spine, urging him to leave his stool and peer out the Western embrasure, towards the sea. What he saw immediately filled his body with dread; the sky was split perfectly down the middle between day and night, with the larger, blazing sun on the left, and the smaller, chilling moon on the right. To most this would be terrifying enough, but to Starswirl, it reminded him all too much of a certain creature's eyes. He was watching. They were out of time.

The ex-court wizard raced down the tower and out the front door as fast as he could, galloping down the hill and towards the town square, bursting into Goldcrest Finch's general store. There was no time to think, he had to put his plan into action, now.

“I need six months supply of seeds, immediately!” he shouted, nearly causing the poor pegasus to topple backwards off his stool.

“What the- You can't just come in here-”

“Can you do it? This is an emergency!” he continued, unprepared to waste a second of time.

“Wha- I-” Goldcrest could see the fire in Starswirl's eyes, and how every muscle in his body was on edge, trebling with purpose. “I- I can probably-”

“Leave them by the house. Rush as though your life depended on it.”

And with that, the unicorn shot back out the door, leaving the owner to stare in disbelief on his own. While Mr. Finch had only known the unicorn for a short time, he scarcely seemed the type to cry wolf. Stepping out from behind the counter and unfurling his wings, Goldcrest hoped they were still up to the task. Meanwhile, Starswirl shot past Tammy Applecore's classroom, picking up the young Celestia and opening the school's door with his magic, shouting “Family emergency!” As soon as the filly was by his side, he teleported up to Bluebeak's perch—recklessly into the middle of the room—and back out with both princesses now floating beside his head as he ran back home.

“What in Equestria is going on?!” Celestia screeched, flailing her legs helplessly.

“Discord has found us,” he wheezed, his old lungs close to giving out already.

He dared to look over his shoulder as he carried the fillies up the hill towards their shelter, now seeing large halos of light circling the celestial bodies, turning them into pupils, and a starry smirk form below them. Had Discord tracked him after his run-in with Tirek? Perhaps their time had simply run out on its own? Either way, it didn't matter; all that mattered now was getting the Princesses safely within the house and casting the time-bubble around them before Discord snapped them into oblivion. With a steadying breath, the wizard pictured his lofty study and teleported the trio one last time, dropping the girls safely on the carpeted floor as he returned to his desk.

“What the hay are you doing?!” Celestia demanded once again, struggling to an upright position.

“Giving us more time.”

Starswirl frantically scribbled on a blank sheet of parchment with his magically-held quill, his head snapping back and forth between what he was writing and his days worth of theorems. Feeling a similar creep up her spine as the wizard before her, Celestia turned to the west-facing window and froze, staring in disbelief as a red-eyed demon sneered down at them from across the entire sky.

“U- U- U-,” she stammered, rigid with fear.

Starswirl did not respond, scrawling intensely for a few more seconds before unceremoniously discarding the pen and raising his work. This was it; the last hurrah before they, and all of Equestria, succumbed to chaos.

“Through hardships wrought and destiny's calling, time steps forward without cease;

A moment's reprieve sought by progress dawdling, a shell ephemera I hereby release.

From day to hour, and minute to second, a moon passes within a blink;

Grant us sanctuary and moments fecund, life's essence as tax to think.”

As the last word escaped his lips, light burst from his horn and through the ceiling, encasing the house in a magical sphere covered with swirls and cog-like patterns. Cyan light bathed every inch of the house almost as though they were underwater, until seconds later the bubble burst, swapping their sea-green colour with the outside world. Starswirl looked up from his hastily written spell, sweat beading across his stressed brow. With a hard swallow, he pushed past Celestia to get a better view of the scene outside. Discord's visage remained looming over them—albeit in less threatening colours, for whatever that was worth—but what really caught the wizard's eye was to the far left of the house. Finch, the pegasi shopkeeper, was frozen mid-flight with what could only be a large bag of seeds in his mouth, on his way to their front door. His body was utterly motionless, including the odd feather that had loosened itself from his old wings, all remaining petrified in place as though time had stopped. But it hadn't—no, time was just moving incredibly slowly, assuming his spell had worked as intended. He dared to exhale a breath of tentative relief.

“What..?” the Princess attempted to ask, though words failed her.

“Time,” he simply replied, continuing to stare out the window, absorbing the sculpture the world had become. “Moons between seconds. Even with the enemy at our doorstep, we still have time to prepare.”

Celestia's mouth remained agape, as it had been for some time now.

“This spell comes at a cost, but it is one I'm willing to pay.”

“W- What cost?”

The elder unicorn looked down, his eyes closed, before turning to the filly.

“While we have distanced ourselves from the regular flow of time, we still abide by its rules. We will age normally, which is a boon for you, but...”

“Just how long are you going to keep this spell up?”

“As long as it takes for you and your sister to be ready to face Discord.”

“Luna? But she's a baby! She'd have to at least be my age to-”

Realisation set on the small filly, turning her already pale face whiter. This was her new cell; her new castle. Ripped away from the outside world and socialising with other foals after mere days of living her dream life. Tears welled up in her eyes at the cruelty of the situation, which Starswirl was well aware of, yet could do nothing to help. The small Princess began to bawl her eyes out uncontrollably, the wails of which echoed throughout the silent stillness of Equestria, heard only by her fellow prisoner and loving jailer.

Author's Note:

1st Edition (Release) - 06th July, 2020 (6,005 words)
1.1 Revision - 12th August, 2020 (Rewrote two paragraphs to better account for canon) (6,087 words)
1.2 Revision - 6th November, 2020 (Rewrote Council introduction to fix tense issues and generally improve) (6,076 words) - 1.3 Edit (Fixed spellings and one line of stilted dialogue) (6,077 words)
1.4 Edit - 13th August, 2021 (Removed the redundant words of 'cry wolf over nothing') (6,074 words)

Special thanks to my mother and ASorcerer for proofing my work