It was four o'clock.
She held a small brass clock between her hooves. She'd gotten it a long time ago, a present from when she'd graduated from school. She must have knocked it off the shelf one time too many, and it had been stuck on four o'clock ever since.
She tested the hands. They sprung back to four o'clock. She put the clock back down. It sat tucked in a bookshelves, behind historical treaties and geopolitical dissections of different parts of Equestria. She always checked on it when she entered her personal library. Maybe it would start working on its own some day.
A scroll had been unfurled on her desk, weighed down by paperweights to keep it from rolling itself back. Stones. From the north. It must have been an important and urgent document, judging from the official seals stamped on it. She glanced at it, scribbled something on some lines, rolled it tightly.
She cocked her head. Where had her paperweights gone? She could have sworn— She shook her head. What did it matter anyway? She had better things to do.
Gallop Hoofworth's treatise on the sociopolitical symbolism of the Rose Lily sat untouched at the corner of her desk. She'd been waiting all week for the release of that book, and now she finally had some time to unwind and take a look inside its pages. Despite being an obscure author studying even more obscure subjects, she seemed determined to make every book she wrote a masterpiece from the very cover itself. Last time, her essays on the importance of the tectonic activity caused by the Dragonlands on tradeable resources had inspired her to request every copy to be inlaid with slivers of gemstones mined from the Dragonlands. This time, gold leaf traced the outlines of a veritable forest of rose lilies, and the title of the book, "Of Lilies And Wars", was cleverly made by using silver for the letters instead of gold, and letting the curves of the lilies suggest the letters. She sighed and a faint smile touched her lips. It was rare to see an author put so much devotion into making sure their work was a delight to the eyes from moment zero. She reverently lifted the cover, the unmistakable smell of a new book fresh off the prints filling her mind with memories of her foalhood, that particular scent invariably announcing the start of a delectable, memorable adventure.
"I heard your meeting with Bramble Saddleton went well, Princess Twilight."
Twilight closed her eyes and slowly closed the cover of "Of Lilies And Wars". The fragments of pleasant memories tore themselves from her mind. They had become increasingly shapeless, like a drawing retraced too many times. It seemed every time she settled on a fairly clear memory, one that made her heart a little bit lighter, Noble Duty arrived to take her out of the moment. "It did. Thank you, Noble Duty."
"I have arranged for another meeting three days hence. I trust this is acceptable?"
Like a bad migraine, Twilight's internal calendar came to her mind. After so many years of keeping tight schedules, she could visualize a full list of appointments carefully dated and annotated by that part of her brain that never seemed to sleep. "I have a slot of an hour between my appointment with the Minister of Agriculture to discuss the locust infestation in the south, and my appointment to inaugurate Madame Ribbon's new dance school."
"An hour might not be enough." Noble Duty shook her head. "By the way I read the transcript, it seems the issues with his family's mines will take longer than an hour."
"Cancel the dance school's appointment."
"You will be missed."
Madame Ribbon had been instrumental in her effort to encourage the youth's creativity and expected her to return the favour by appearing at the opening of her schools. Twilight frowned and tapped impatiently on her desk. "Split the meeting with the Minister in two. Forty-five minutes should be enough to brief me on the locust problem. Combine him with my meeting with the Buffalo Chief the day after, it must touch his lands too and they can work together on a solution."
"Duly noted." Noble Duty bowed and left.
Twilight Sparkle reclined in her chair. It creaked under her. Her head hurt.
The clock opened easily in her hooves. She'd opened and closed it so many times she could do it with her eyes closed now. In no way was she a master clockmaker, however. Despite her countless attempts at repairing her little brass clock, it still refused to work. She'd refused to have it seen by a specialist, instead opting to look into books for a way to repair it properly. No luck. For all she knew, she'd messed with the insides so much it was broken beyond all hope. But she always hoped that by prodding and testing, she'd end up finding a way to have it working again.
Wasn't it strange how easily a clock could stop working? At first, she'd taken it apart carefully, looking over every piece to see if one had broken, or had been bumped out of place. But every single one of them had looked like new, like the clock should have been working perfectly. But one of them must have been broken. One of them must have been misplaced. Why else would a perfectly good clock just stop working? Someone had once told her some clock were just made like that, and that their true purpose transcended that of a clock. Sometimes, a clock was meant to be a paperweight in the end.
She'd always refused to use that clock as a paperweight. She simply pushed and nudged the cogs and gears and springs, hoping one day she'd happen on what had caused it to stop. Six hundred years and counting. Maybe more. She barely had to pay any attention to it. Her focus was already taken by "Of Lilies And Wars". She didn't even notice when she put the brass casing back around the insides of the clock and laid it back on her desk. She didn't even need a clock anyway. She had something even better—and more pestering—to remind her of her appointments.
"It is eight o'clock, Princess Twilight."
She didn't know if she wanted her clock to start working again. In a life busy with appointments and clearly scheduled events, having that little defective clock waiting for her at her desk was oddly comforting. No matter what the day or night had in store for her, she could always count on that clock to dutifully point to four o'clock when she looked at it. She closed the book and rose from her chair. She poked the clock. It was four o'clock. She smiled. "Thank you, Noble Duty."
“The treaties I left on your desk?”
“Taken care of.”
“The ones I left after I came?”
Twilight glanced at her desk. A few scrolls sat stamped and sealed. She hadn't even noticed them, and hadn't even noticed herself filling them. It wouldn't be the first time, though every time she unconsciously did her job, it turned out just fine in the end. It always made her nervous. Not because she feared she did her job wrong, but because she never felt like she actually did anything.
Who was Princess Twilight, the lauded ruler who had brought the realms to a golden age and was admired even in distant lands? Twilight Sparkle always caught herself being more interested in obscure historical treaties than in politics, even as she shaped a bright destiny for her people.
Did she even care, or was it a side hobby for her, that she preferred to ignore and forget about when it was done? Only the sun and the moon could shake her into considering her position as princess of Equestria, but not because she knew the world itself hung on whether or not she could coax the celestial bodies to rise, but because…
Because…
A tall figure, backlit by the raising sun. The pinions of her wings spread outward as she greeted her charge with majesty and pride despite going through the motions hundreds of thousands of times. Something glimmered. Gold on her head. The mountains bathed in gold as the sun rose. Gold. White.
Twilight blinked and yawned. Banish the image. Bury it. “Yes, took care of them. Eight o'clock now.” Noble Duty bowed lightly to her. Eight o'clock. Time to raise the moon. Twilight stepped outside to the balcony and raised the moon. It shone in the night sky. She always stared at it, for some reason. Not that it wasn't beautiful in its own right. She simply felt as if it deserved to be admired for the beauty it brought to the world. Its light spread over the lands like a silvery veil, and glimmered somewhere in the mountains to the north. She blinked, remembering something, but it was gone before she could fully recall it.
The night was beautiful. She had always found the night beautiful. Stargazing had been one of her favourite hobbies ever since she was a filly. But for some reason, every time she looked up at the night sky, she felt some ponies didn't appreciate it enough.
What happened to Twilight? Oh, now I really want to know. Good chapter!
Oh really now. That's not at all suspicious.
Lots of silver and gold and stone here. There's riches in those mountains.
One minor correction: "treaty" applies to the other documents Twilight has to deal with in this chapter, but a book like that is a "treatise. Ain't English fun?
There's some good symbolism in this chapter, but I can only make wild guesses as to what it's all pointing toward.
Lilies are hard for me to parse, but some googling points toward the meaning of goddess, so combined with gold and silver (for sun and moon) I have have to imagine the book has something to do with Celestia and Luna. And Twilight seems almost lucid when she's admiring it. And of course the smell of a book would be an especially strong memory trigger for her. Twily is still in there somewhere, but lost and forgotten. Still, enough of her manages to come through to remember her friendship lessons when it comes to valuing something small and personal like making an appearance at a dance school.
The broken(?) clock really catches my attention. The old saying "even a stopped clock is right twice a day" springs to mind, but doesn't have an obvious relevance here. There's also the apparent timelessness of it, mirroring Twilight's own day-to-day experience which passes by in a blur. I have to wonder if the clock isn't broken, but just running so slow that a tick of the minute hand could take a millennium or more. And, huh, apparently 4 O'clock is the name of a type of flower that opens only in the evening.
...and a BTS song that's remarkably consistent with the mood of this story.
I feel as lost and confused as Twilight now.
Loving this story!
10857618
Thank you! I hope it'll be to your satisfaction!
10866540
Thank you! I feared that chapter would fall flat but it seems my fears were unfounded.
10867129
Thank you! I'm happy you're enjoying it, and don't worry the confusion is intentional though everything should make sense eventually!
10866577
English is very fun, like the plastic shell you need to cut with a chainsaw to get to the goodies that are inside.
10867409
It's the good kind of confusion, well-deserving of the mystery tag. I love a story that forces me to think.
Enraptured with your style of writing so far! I’m excited to see where this story will lead.