Fading Time

by Not That Anon

Elements of the Past

Twilight Sparkle stared at the ruined building in front of her. The roof and the west wall collapsed decades ago, revealing most of the first floor. The remaining walls were overgrown with moss and vines. A lone pine tree was desperately trying to take root in a shallow pocket of earth that accumulated inside an old elevator shaft. All in all, it looked exactly as she would expect of a place located so far from the Canterlot Bastion.

Once upon a time these ruins used to be a library or a bookstore. All the wooden bookshelves fell apart long ago, covering the floor – or what remained of it – in a knee-deep layer of ruined books and torn pages. Twilight didn’t bother picking up any of them. She knew what she would find.

Twilight stepped inside, heavy metal boots clanking against the rubble. Amidst the sea of broken window panes and scattered sheets of paper, a brown hat laid next to a seemingly discarded Reader’s Haven uniform. Forcing herself not to think about it, she reached for the name tag. It was blank. Suddenly she remembered that the last owner of this place was a mare called Turned Page, thirty two years old. A library, then, a voice in Twilight’s mind concluded. She silently paid her respects to the forgotten librarian. She’s seen such scenes thousands of times and yet she never fully got used to it.

But that was it, Twilight couldn’t remember anything more specific about this library. More tired than disappointed, she pulled out a steel chisel and attached it to one of her front hooves. Using it, she engraved a six-sided star in the stone doorway, next to a similar carving of a musical note and a fish. It was a custom of the Archivists, meant to stop one from re-exploring a site they’ve both visited and forgotten about. The Archivists themselves were disbanded decades ago but their teachings were still proving useful to the few ponies who ventured beyond the safety of the Canterlot Bastion looking for long lost memories.

Twilight coughed harshly inside her hermetically sealed mask.

“I know, I know. I’ll be going back today,” she murmured. The suit she was wearing was a minor miracle of post-Pulse engineering. It was designed to protect its wearer from the harmful effects of staying outside the safe area for up to a week. Twilight had left Canterlot eleven days ago.

It’s always been the same out here. Too many places to visit, too many crucial memories to recall, never enough time. Twilight sighed. None of that excused getting sloppy. She took one final look at New Trotingham. The library was in a relatively good condition compared to the rest of the city. Back in its glory days, several mansions were floating over it, first designed and constructed by earth ponies then suspended in the air by a mix of unicorn and pegasi magic. The citizens of New Trotingham used to pride themselves on their engineering. It’s ironic that, in the end, it was those very mansions falling from the sky that obliterated the majority of the nearby landscape.

---

To an ignorant onlooker the Canterlot Outskirts might – for a moment – look perfectly normal. A more perceptive pony might notice the untrimmed hedges and overgrown gardens, the only remaining witnesses of the events that befell this quiet part of the town.

Then the moment would pass and the illusion would shatter. Silence. That’s the real difference. Twilight shuddered. Exploring long dead ruins was mentally exhausting on its own but it was something distant, more of a history lesson than real life. Seeing the same happen to settlements which were still alive days ago – Actually, it’s been several months, the voice corrected her – was magnitudes more depressing.

The wind passing through rows of abandoned buildings whistled a warning. “Take a good look,” she could swear it said. “The same fate is coming for you, sooner than you expect.” An old willow tree rustled its leafs in agreement. Twilight ignored the ominous message forming in her head and firmly trotted onward, slightly quicker than a minute ago.

She was less than a mile away from the border of the safe zone when she spotted a wooden house tucked in between two of the much more representative buildings. Indeed, wooden houses weren’t a common sight even in small towns located on the edges of the map, but the choice of the building material wasn’t the most surprising thing about the house. The doors were left wide open with a large white circle drawn on both sides, barely faded. It was another custom of the Archivists, this one meaning that the owner had some piece of history they wanted to preserve. There were no other markings on the doorway.

Twilight tapped on the metal joints of the armored suit. She reasoned that if it didn’t fall apart over the course of the past twelve days then surely she could postpone her return by a quarter of an hour. She might never get another chance to solve the mystery of this suspicious small rundown house built among villas made of gold and marble. Maybe it’s something important. Not to mention the mark, only a tiny group of ponies was still aware of their existence.

Are you going to risk your life just to sate your curiosity? A familiar voice, her voice, scolded her.

Twilight quickly ran some calculations in her mind. According to the suit’s specs, the detour would carry about 0.037% risk of the magnesium plating sustaining serious damage. That’s not good. The voice was probably right, by all accounts she shouldn’t take any more chances.

But there was something strangely… familiar about the way this house was constructed. Furthermore, its former host marked it as important. If they thought that there was anything of value stored in here then maybe investigating further would be worth the risk.

Twilight trotted towards the open door and cautiously peeked inside. Calling this structure a house was too generous. There was nothing there save for a makeshift bed, a single drawer and a metal table. The building lacked proper insulation, instead relying on bales of hay propped up against the walls to keep the heat in. It didn’t have any windows either but the roof had so many holes in it that Twilight didn’t need to light a candle to see clearly.

The pony who lived here carved several perfectly even lines into the western wall. They were grouped into a grid, four rows of sevens and three more lines on the last row. A crude image of a skull was carved above the sixth line in the fourth row. Seventeen lines directly preceding the pictogram were crossed out.

“A calendar!” Twilight excitedly exclaimed. “They were only living here for seventeen days!”

The voice in her head chimed in, Good job, detective Sparkle. But do we really have the time to roleplay as Shadow Spade? Take the box from the table and hurry to safety.

“A box?” Twilight raised her brow. “What am I talking abou–“

In sharp contrast to everything in the seslidareous room, the box laying on the table was almost whimsical. It was a small treasure chest made of a shiny, gray metal seemingly enameled in a layer of a crystal-clear glass. The outer details like edge reinforcements and the hinges were fashioned from a white metal, either silver or platinum.

After decades of mostly fruitless experiments with all sorts of materials, it was discovered that glass-covered magnesium was able to temporarily slow down the destructive effects of the Pulse. Containers like this one were prohibitively expensive – or at least they used to be, back when bits still meant something – since the high flammability of pure metallic magnesium rendered all non-magical enameling methods useless.

Twilight carefully strapped the small chest to her back. She didn’t want to risk damaging the contents by opening it here. Just like her suit, it was surprisingly light. Not wanting to waste any more time, she quickly carved her cutie mark on the door frame and ran a diagonal line through the large circle that invited her to investigate. Crossed out circle meant “cleared out”.

Trotting back to Canterlot proper, Twilight couldn’t stop thinking about the anonymous pony who went through such trouble to save something from the incoming apocalypse.

---

Canterlot was even emptier than she remembered it. Twilight passed by a group of older ponies rolling metal balls on the ground in a game she wasn’t familiar with. One of them, a dark green pegasus stallion with a faded lime mane, greeted her. She nodded back, unable to remember his name. Images of dozens of green pegasi flashed through her mind. None of them matched the pony in front of her.

Twilight stopped by the Canterlot general store to trade some of the trinkets she had collected for food. Technically speaking, she hasn’t eaten in two weeks. Staying outside tends to have that effect on ponies. That, coupled with the Sun and Moon being locked in a permanent sunset for the last tens of thousands of hours, made it all too easy to lose count of the passing days. She remembered that once upon a time the castle had its own kitchen. Not anymore. The sole surviving cook was relieved of his duty about two years ago to write the world’s last cooking book.

The shelves were well-stocked with all kinds of food and supplies ranging from writing utensils to furniture. The proprietor of this establishment – a middle aged mare who also worked as a clerk here – prided herself on having the best equipped shop in Canterlot. She never mentioned that she no longer had any competition in the City of Ghosts, or anywhere else in the world for that matter. The clerk wished Twilight a “good day”. Black humor has been increasingly popular among the survivors.

Twilight didn’t meet anyone else on the way to the castle library. She carefully placed the shining chest on the floor. She also finally took off her saddlebags made from magnesium alloy – the only piece of the suit she hadn’t discarded after entering the city. She took a deep breath, looked around, grabbed the lid with her mouth and slowly pushed it open.

The box contained only a single item; an album seemingly as old as the technology of photography itself. Twilight opened it on a random page and inspected a few pictures. The album documented the history of an Equestrian corporation known for producing high-quality means of transportation. The photos covered every major event in the company’s centuries-long history. At least, that’s what Twilight figured out from browsing the pictures. Despite all the protective measures taken by the pony who stored it away, all the text in the book has already corroded away, leaving only a blank strip of paper under every picture.

Twilight closed her eyes and ran her hoof across the thick cover with the company’s logo – an old fashioned scooter – emblazoned in gold. It had to be important. Ponies don’t move into rundown shacks just to preserve some trivia about a now defunct company.

“You know you’ve seen it, Sparkle. But where?” she heard herself say.

“I don’t know,” she responded. “I checked the most recent pictures but they’re all from Detrot City. I haven’t been there in centuries!”

You’re not getting it, the voice in her head scolded her. If the author wanted to save a recent memory, they’d have just told you the story themselves.

Twilight facehoofed. She opened the book on the first page and took a look at the large photo on the top. It was faded and blurred (likely from age rather than magical decay) but she could still make out some of the details.

The photo immortalized the opening of their first workshop. A young, short maned pegasus mare was shaking hooves with a tall unicorn who had just cut the, presumably red, ribbon strung across the doorway. A group of ponies was cheering nearby. Chief among them was another pegasus, this one with her mane dyed in several colors. Twilight felt a chill running down her spine. She was sure that this mare used to be somepony very important to her but now she couldn’t even remember her name.

Once again, the voice interrupted her thoughts, Doesn’t this ceremony seem familiar? Go on, take another look.

And so she did. The realization suddenly hit her – the official in the front wasn’t a unicorn. It was an alicorn. And not just any alicorn, no. She was only slightly taller than a regular pony (which ruled out the Royal Sisters) and her build was on a heftier side (which precluded Cadance). Therefore, by the process of elimination it must’ve been…

The memories came back to her like a river rushing through a blown up dam. Those ponies, she knew all of them almost as much as she knew herself. Twilight kept her eyes peeled to the millennia old photo, filling in the details from memory. The smudge near the edge wasn’t an error – it was caused by a shy pegasus ducking away from the camera. To the side, a well-dressed unicorn mare discussed some business matters with a dignified stallion. Such a sight in Vanhoover was a rarity.

“No, not a rarity. The Rarity!” Twilight shouted with joy. “And that colorful mane is not dyed. It’s even in her name! Rainbow… Rainbow…”

A loud knocking sound echoed through the room disrupting her focus.

“Princess Twilight?” said a muffled voice coming from the other side of the door. Its tone had a tinge of urgency to it.

Twilight blinked several times trying to assess the situation, “Rain… bow?”

“I’m afraid it’s just me, Sky Blitz,” the guardspony responded. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, madam, but Princess Celestia wanted to hear from you as soon as possible.”

“I… I see,” Twilight stammered, “Tell her I’ll be coming in a few minutes.”

“Understood.”

Twilight fought off the urge to immediately look at the photo again. She closed the album and carefully put it back into the glass container. Sure, there was almost no risk of anything bad happening to it here but “almost” was never good enough for Twilight. Having taken care of that eventuality, she left her room and trotted over to the throne room.

---

Twilight waited for Sky Blitz to open the doors to the throne room. He had adjusted to his new job pretty well. Years ago, the entirety of the Royal Guard marched against the coming Pulse in a desperate attempt to stop it. None of them came back. Sky Blitz was a flight instructor back then. Like all pegasi, the consequences of the Pulses hit him really hard. Even the unicorns found it easier to adjust to their new reality. It’s no wonder that, after Princess Celestia’s accident, Sky Blitz was the first – and only – pony to volunteer.

She nodded to the guardspony and stepped inside. Celestia gestured her to come closer. The alicorn was laying on a lavishly decorated sofa that replaced the throne some decades ago. Her mane was flowing down the middle of the room like a colorful carpet, then turned around and looped around the old monarch several times, making her already majestic silhouette stand out even more. Twilight was one of the two ponies who remembered the times when Princess Celestia’s mane was still levitating behind her as she walked but even she had to admit that there was something marvelous about the Princess’s current state. She was exuding an aura of ultimate finality, an ancient ruler seeing her kingdom and her subjects vanish into nothingness. Yet there was peace in her presence.

“I’m glad you could come, Twilight,” Princess Celestia didn’t open her eyes, “Was your last journey to New Trottingham successful?”

“Hello, Princess,” Twilight replied, “Yes, I think so. But not thanks to anything in Trottingham. Somepony left us a very special photo album just outside the barrier.”

“A special album?” asked Celestia. “Does that mean you’ve at last found out what you were looking for?”

“I think I did. Rarity, Rainbow, others I’ll remember soon. Princess, all these years and you didn’t tell me once. You must’ve known. Why?”

Princess Celestia smiled with a sad smile that betrayed her age. “Who says I haven’t? We’ve had this conversation many times, Twilight. It never gets better. And…” Celestia took a long pause.

“And what?” Twilight urged her former mentor to continue.

“…and I thought that this time you deserve to remember everything on your own, if you can. We both know there won’t be any more next times after tomorrow. Which is why I asked you to come on such a short notice," Princess Celestia opened her unseeing eyes, turning her head towards the window and the sunset that shone through it for decades. Twilight could swear that, for the first time in years, her gaze expressed relief and acceptance beneath its usual nostalgia. “One more day until it’s all over.”

Twilight felt her heart sink. She knew it’d happen eventually. But it was one thing to know and another thing entirely to actually hear the sentence. Hoping to break the silence, she asked, “Did you tell everypony?”

“I did. We learned last week. The Vault will remain open until tomorrow morning, if you want to add anything to the collection.”

The Vault. Equestria’s final preservation project. The marvelous warehouse-museum housing much of culture and technology from Equus. It was built like a bunker dozens of miles underground, with walls made of meter-thick magnesium slabs. Its construction started after it was discovered that the Pulse was primarily attracted to living creatures, leaving buried items in a relatively good condition for a long time. Optimistic calculations gave the Vault many thousands of years before the corrosion would seep inside.

“Twilight!” – Celestia paused, letting her voice reverberate in the nearly empty room. – “You zoned out again. There’s something else I want you to know. When you were gone, my sister has fully recovered.”

“Luna woke up? That’s great to hear!” Twilight jumped up in place.

“It is. However it seems that the years she spent during her forced stay in the dream realm deeply…” Princess Celestia searched for the right word, “Yes, deeply affected her.”

“What happened? Is she all right?”

Celestia’s brow furrowed. “In her desperation, she came up with a plan. A plan that’s now supported by more than half of our subjects. It’s hardly more than a fool’s errand that would destroy everything we’ve built together were it come to fruition. A false hope costing us our legacy, our Vault.”

“What are you talking about, Princess?”

“My sister will want to tell you herself as soon as she’s back, I’m sure. This morning she went to the old Canterlot castle. Against my advice, mind you. Said that she’ll be back before tomorrow. As for you, I only ask you to carefully consider your options when the time comes,” concluded Celestia, her empty eyes still locked on the window frame. “That is all. If there’s anything else you wish to know, ask now. I need to prepare my last speech.”

Twilight slowly walked up to the window. “Prin– no, Celestia, what do you think happened to Cadence, to the librarian from New Trotingham, to all the ponies who got caught up in this mess –“ Twilight gestured at the swathes of land surrounding the Bastion. Her voice was trembling. “– What will happen to us, Celestia?”

The ancient alicorn tapped her hoof on a polished marble floor, briefly looking more frail than ever. “I do not know,” she forced a reassuring smile, “But try not to worry about it. We’ll get to know the answer soon enough.”

“Thank you. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Twilight.”

---

Twilight placed a lit candle on the table and opened the album on the first page. The candle produced barely any light but that wasn’t its main purpose. Magical and even mechanical clocks have been getting less and less reliable each year, causing the popularity of alternative time keeping methods to rise. Carefully measured candles, made to burn for a specific amount of time, were one of the more popular replacements for indoor clocks. This one was set to burn out in eight hours, give or take a couple minutes. Twilight knew that she couldn’t have forgotten everything about her old friends, she only needed a bit of extra effort to remember.

…Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Pink Pie and the last one was…

No, not Pink Pie, Pinkie Pie, Twilight mentally corrected herself as she yawned. It was going to be a very long afternoon and the exhaustion from her long trip was only going to make the already arduous task that much harder. There was no way she could waste the few precious hours she still had on sleeping.

(…)

…then Applejack finally let us help her with the harvest season and…

(…)

…all of us were surprised. We had no idea Rainbow’s Sonic Rainboom was…

(…)

…told us about Blueblood. The night didn’t go as planned for her either.

(…)

Comments

[Jarvy Jared]

Post-apocalyptic pony fiction isn't really high on my list of interests, though it enjoys a niche place on my shelf. This one promises to be an intriguing and equally tragic addition to that genre - and I am definitely looking forward to learning more about this Pulse event.

[Balloon Adrift]

I appreciate the subtle bits of worldbuilding. The candle especially. I adore seeing how those living in a new setting utilize their creativity to get around the various problems that occur. Personally this story resonates with me quite a lot. Memories and the fading of time is the number one thematic motif through most of my ideas, and I was surprised to see how many ideas here align with my own worldbuilding concepts. This is a nice take on the apocalypse. You seem to be doing a lot of things right: Your writing style is pleasant (as far as my plebian brain can tell), you convey a solid amount of information in little time, and present to us a tragic setting and interesting world. I have nothing I could immediately pick up on as an error either. This is simply a nice and seemingly well-written story.

You are doing a lot of things right, and i'm happy to see more post-apocalyptic pony fiction. We have a sore lack of it, and it is my absolute favorite genre. It's also cool how you are pre-writing your stories. I'll give this a like and follow, and I hope you find some decent success as a reward for this.

[shalrath]

Interesting premise. It feels like there's a lost age of technology just prior to the cataclysm. Not entirely sure if that ties into the selective memory loss that twilight is experiencing or if that's just more magic, but an interesting read overall

[Sadistic Joy]

11311894
lost age of technology huh? how much you wanna bet twilight turns into the emperor

[Not That Anon]

11311865
Thanks for the kind words! I'm glad to hear that the story resonated with you. Memories, the passing of time and the exploration of the ruined once-great kingdoms are among the themes that influence me the most. I'd rather avoid making claims or promises regarding stories that I haven't written (yet) but I wouldn't be surprised if these ideas keep showing up in one way or another.

[Balloon Adrift]

11311951
It fits perfectly with an apocalyptic setting, I feel. Everything we know and hold dear now becomes just another memory with enough time and removed context. To someone who does not even know us, it becomes even more distanced, and that is pretty tragic when brought to the forefront of such settings of ruin and desolation, how scavengers dig through ruins and find old memoirs and heirlooms.

I think your approach of a smaller-scale story instead of a big epic is a smart one. Keeps things short and poignant, and you've been doing a good job peppering in storytelling and worldbuilding. Very interested in how this progresses.

[Lynwood]

What an intriguing and well-written first chapter! I'm looking forward to the rest of the story, but I admit - you've nailed my favorite kind of post-apocalypse feeling. Nice job!

[Reviewfilly]

As someone who read the draft, this is definitely a story worth seeing through till the end, so if you, dear hypothetical reader, are worried about the story tanking in later chapters, I can put said worries at ease. Both in terms of prose and narrative this is an impressive fic from start to finish.

[Sunset Shimmer The Great]

Wow! Amazing first chapter.

[Pensive]

I thought this was a G5 story for half a moment... Oh well, this is interesting, I'm keeping an eye on this.

[Nos Astros]

Terrific story, tragic but captivating. Glad I read it!