Autonomous Reflection

by Crystalline HP

Chapter 7 – The Perfectionist Vs. The Pendulum

The sponsor of Twilight Sparkle’s academic success was her own brilliant mind.

Its continued existence alone was considered a miracle among her friends. How it managed to sustain enough paths for her maze of racing thoughts to travel – all without them colliding and overwhelming even the alicorn’s immense cognitive process to a point of self-implosion – was indefinable.

But Twilight, who cherished such an analytically intimate relationship with her brain that she herself could acknowledge the intricacies of its specialness, lived in odd harmony with herself. In exchange for enduring the occasional mental collapse, which manifested through her fearsome, uncontrollable episodes of blind insanity, Twilight enjoyed and actively exercised supernatural abilities.

A mere shred of this talent was contributed by a seemingly omniscient memory, whose capacity enabled her to recite the entirety of a one-thousand-page book she had read two years ago. Such lifelong gifts like this far outweighed the price of her genius.

Yet now, for the first time since her extraordinary memory itself had begun keeping records, an infuriating bout of amnesia was reminding her only of why she feared that price.

“It’s no good, Fluttershy!” she huffed, finally plonking her rear to the ground after ten minutes of carrying it around with pacing hooves. “I just can’t remember anything after that!”

She and the canary pegasus sat in Ponyville Station, their backsides slowly baking against the hot stone of the platform bound for Manehattan via Canterlot. Despite lounging – or in Twilight’s case, sweating – in the midday sun for a good half-hour, they had not seen a single bit exchange hooves for a ticket thanks to a total absence of staff. Neither had they seen or heard any actual locomotives. No train had so much as roared past to buffet their manes, and a blank timetable made no effort to inform the locals when one might actually bother to arrive.

It was no consolation to Twilight that this did not matter anyway; Ponyville’s population itself seemed to be on strike, just the same as the trains that weren’t servicing it. Save for the omnipresent tumbleweed that Twilight’s imagination had watched skip past six times already, the entire establishment was deserted.

That’s not even the worst of it. Never mind that my hometown’s only station looks like it went bankrupt back in the pre-classical era—I don’t even know how I got here!

Restless in fragmented knowledge, Twilight rummaged through her most recent memories once more. “We were in Canterlot, in the castle,” she said, as though reaming off hazy images aloud to a friend would cement them in truth. “Shining was about to tell me something about Icon o’ Clast, but then Celestia interrupted and called us to the table. I sat down for the meeting like everypony else, and then…nothing! The rest is blank!”

Fluttershy sniffed sadly.

“How does that chain of events even begin to make sense?” Uncertainty aggravated Twilight to growl. “I mean, we took a train from this platform to get to Canterlot in the first place!”

If Fluttershy saw her point, she did not show it. With her only reassurance coming from an empty silence whose most optimistic feature was its inability to prove her wrong, Twilight’s mind resorted to surreal possibilities.

Was everything that happened in the castle all some crazy dream? It’s not often that a roomful of us meet in alliance with Discord, after all. But that still doesn’t explain why I’ve woken up in a suddenly derelict station with no recollection of arriving… Not to mention that Fluttershy’s been dumped here alongside me with exactly the same, weirded out memories. So what if this is the dream? GAH!

Her usually unblemished logic challenging reality itself was the last straw. Hoping that even Fluttershy’s muted voice might suffice to blot out the frenzied ones kicking her in the head, Twilight turned an exasperated face towards her friend. “I can’t remember anything!” she repeated helplessly.

“P-Please don’t shout, Twilight,” stammered Fluttershy as she flinched under both Twilight’s maddened eyes and her volume level. “You’re right, completely right. Sitting down is the last thing I remember, too.”

“I know, but you must be able to…” The unfair demand clogged in her throat. At the realisation of her hypocritical behaviour, Twilight uttered a mournful groan and let herself collapse flat-out onto the cooked concrete. “Oh, Fluttershy, I’m sorry… As if I haven’t wrecked our friendship enough already…”

Twilight indulged in a brooding silence. Pitying herself occupied a few, long seconds before an echo of Fluttershy’s words, which carried a subtle peculiarity, struck her with surprise. “You called me Twilight,” she said, tentative hope glowing faintly inside her. “You said my name instead of hailing me as a princess. And you’re not bowing to me or offering to be my eternal slave like you have been all week!”

Fluttershy’s nod was tiny, but it was the nervous smile which accompanied it that told Twilight she need not worry about the pegasus subjecting herself to such harmful submission again.

Progress at last!

Twilight desperately wanted to exploit this chink in Fluttershy’s relentless self-depreciation, but pushing further left her luck at risk of being pushed along with it. Having made a vital breakthrough, yet still treading on ice of indeterminate thickness, Twilight was unsure whether to linger around the subject—until her mind somewhat redeemed its recollection failure and made the decision for her.

Hang on. That nod of hers—why is it dunking me in déjà vu?

Then her memory circuit sparked. Scrambling up to stand, Twilight partially amended her incomplete timeline. “Wait! This stupid amnesia sets in just after we all sat down; you looked really upset, Fluttershy, so I mouthed across the table that I’d help you…” A bewilderingly unmissable opportunity to blow apart a week’s frustration of futilely probing Fluttershy plastered a grin to her face. “…And you nodded in consent!”

Though Fluttershy did not gasp as Twilight had expected, her glazed eyes conveyed no less shock as she recalled the moment. “I… I thanked you, didn’t I?” Her lip trembled. “Oh no… T-That was a mistake! I’m not ready!” Shaking her head as though trying to neutralise the nod, Fluttershy began to back away. “I’m not ready yet! P-Please don’t make me!”

Advancing on her friend’s retreating hooves would have been akin to entrusting her already slim chances to a drunken Discord, so Twilight ignored the instinct to launch her own hooves into pursuit and, instead, chose to simply place one over her heart. It was the same, sincere hoof that had won Fluttershy’s trust in Canterlot Castle. “Remember the conversation we had just before we entered the Conference Room? It was Luna’s idea, and I failed you. I let my bitterness at your insecurity around me rule my head, which meant that you were too scared to even admit that something was wrong. My selfishness dug us both into that horrible hole, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am for it.”

Fluttershy froze, one forehoof hovering in uncertainty of whether to complete its full journey backwards.

“But that wound can heal,” Twilight continued, not daring to move herself. “I’m your friend, Fluttershy, and there’s no reason to suffer in silence anymore. Please be brave; sharing a problem puts you in the strongest position to solve it.”

Fluttershy’s indecisive limb slowly lowered to the ground. Still quivering, she whimpered, “Twilight… I’m scared.”

This sounds serious. How can I get her to open up without holding a bunny rabbit hostage? Hmm. Maybe if I call upon a bit of give-and-take logic…?

Constructive ideas circulated through Twilight’s processes, improving and refining themselves until, in ten seconds flat, she had crafted a solution whereby everybody won. Her head, the architect of this answer, promptly told her what to say.

But nothing came out. For a moment, Twilight stared stupidly as she contemplated her involuntary silence. Then, helplessly, she felt the familiar, more indirect consequence of her brilliance ruin her.

Twilight could not speak; her heart had chosen this moment to suffer from its inferiority complex. It had been her secret since foalhood, the self-destructive condition that would stall or completely reject the delivery of whatever her brain scripted, particularly when the topic of discussion dwelled close to her heart. Orchestrated by emotional inexperience and stress, its social bane stood as the reason why she had only found solace in nurturing Spike during her lonely youth.

The affliction had never struck with such chokingly powerful symptoms before, but hindsight left Twilight wondering how she had not expected it—this time, the subject was both her heart and Spike intertwined.

She inhaled deeply.

“Fluttershy,” she managed, “I have a sensitive problem, too. If I confide in you, will you do the same with me?”

Instantly Fluttershy was by her side, sitting her down and rubbing a hoof which was clearly practised in the art of grooming across stiff pressures in her neck. “Something’s wrong? Then yes! I want to help you!”

“Thank you.” Twilight became aware that she was prioritising a heart to heart over their very safety; they remained clueless as to why they had awoken in Ponyville’s train station. But possible danger would not sway Twilight to ignore a troubled friend.

It feels stupid beyond belief, but waiting it out might just be best. We’re obviously here for some reason, so leaving straightaway would be redundant. Maybe somepony will show up. And passing up a chance to end Fluttershy’s secretive saga once and for all… Now that would be foolish.

Confident that her decision was well-founded, Twilight made to bind a fair agreement between herself and Fluttershy. “Just one thing, Fluttershy: that concern that you’re feeling for me is exactly what I feel for you. So you have to let me return the favour afterwards.” Though she knew that trying to stare down the Staremaster had fast tracked many a Cockatrice to endangerment, Twilight mustered her sternest look. “Promise me, Fluttershy.”

“…I promise.”

---

The predictable creak of unused oak made for a fitting sound to complement the wall of blackness that greeted Rarity and Rainbow Dash. The light from the corridor pervaded no more than three yards inside Starswirl the Bearded’s forbidden library, beyond which was darkness so absolute that Rarity wondered if Luna herself had enchanted the air in order to hide an artificial trap.

That loud crash from before: I doubt the intruder would have risked being so noisy even to get at something valuable. Something went wrong…

Rarity ventured forth a few steps more until she stood on the cusp of the invisible chasm in front of her. Intending to surprise and possibly corner their target, she immersed herself in magic and casted a quick blast of light that illuminated the entire chamber for about two seconds.

When the library had dimmed to its unnatural nothingness once more, Rarity found herself debating whether her eyes had fallen victim to wishful thinking that had skimmed the room for her. “Darling, did I deceive myself, or is there—?”

“Yes, I’m over here.” The stallion’s unsettlingly carefree voice echoed exactly from where Rarity had just seen a shape during the brief flash. “Just having a quick rest on the floor. Don’t mind me.”

Strangely, his tone seemed plagued by fatigue and surrender, but Rarity was taking no chances. “I’m going to brighten the room more permanently,” she warned the downed pony. “Any attempt to escape will result in my friend Rainbow Dash here… How did you phrase it again, dear?”

“I’ll smash your sorry flank into next week!” Rainbow promised, body crouched low in preparation. “You got that, buster?”
“Next week, eh?” answered the darkness. “Heh… As if my efforts haven’t brought me far enough. But believe me, escape is the last thing on my mind.”

Ha! A likely story! Trying to buy time for yourself will earn you nothing but a sky-blue hoof to the face.

Rarity shut the doors to emphasise her distrust, managing to quell the literally blind panic that was threatening to suffocate her. Her claustrophobia soon lifted, however, as her horn fired a luminescent orb to where she estimated was the centre of the room.

There it hovered, able to bring enlightenment of the entire library to their eyes. But the stallion had told no lie; he remained near-motionless on the floor, chest heaving and visibly sweating. Indeed, he occupied a peculiarly central spot in the circular chamber, leaving him illuminated in startling fashion against the gradually dulling radius encompassing him.

Rainbow Dash approached quickly but cautiously. “Game’s up, loser! What are you, an idiot? I got caught breaking into a hospital once and even I didn’t lounge about in plain sight! Stand up and get ready for a thrashing!”

The stallion – whose odd lack of disguise revealed a large horn that proved him a unicorn – almost smiled, despite his response coming through short, sharp breaths. “Kinda difficult… Can’t move…” As Rarity stepped within touching distance, the intruder looked up with golden, dilated eyes. “Heavenly stars, you’re beauti—no. That isn’t helping.”

Neither the stoppered compliment nor his brilliant eyes prevented a fearsome scowl from forming on Rarity’s features. “Choose your next words very carefully,” she hissed.

“I’d rather put it bluntly,” panted the exhausted stallion. “I need your help. I need energy, to be precise.”

“Energy?” Rarity suddenly received an unpleasant premonition as to where this stranger was steering the conversation. “What are you insinuating?”

Some form of body language must have betrayed her guess, because the stallion immediately launched a defensive plea. “Look, I know that you probably see a pathetic thief who wants to swipe a collection of ancient scrolls for his own greedy benefit, but you would misunderstand. Ugh…” He paused for breath, wetting his dry lips. “Fair unicorn, please offer me a share of your strength; then I can explain without worrying about dying halfway through a sentence.”

“…You jest, surely.” Her fear had been unfortunately accurate. He was asking to be the recipient of a Splicer Spell, a relatively simple yet somewhat intimate piece of magic that allowed the exchange of both magical and physical vitality between unicorns.

But whichever this unicorn sought and for whatever reason, her disbelief at his sheer nerve had already sealed her decision. “Your proposal is laughable. And my name is Rarity, you common felon.”

A sour look crossed his face. “I implore you, Miss Rarity. Two possible outcomes face me if I am not supplied with any energy, and the most preferable ends in me becoming just another name in a graveyard.”

Rarity raised her chin. “I shall pretend I can fathom a set of circumstances that would justify that ridiculous claim,” she retorted. “You wish for me to overlook the fact that you are a criminal who begs life itself from upstanding citizens? Very well. I will consider it…when you admit your name and why you disregarded a simple restriction law.”

“Miss Rarity…your tongue reeks of sophistication.” His dry defeatism was relentless, and hoarse coughs suddenly spluttered from his mouth as if his body were punishing him for straying off-topic. “My name? You wouldn’t believe me if my lawyer made a case of proving it. And I think my lawyer is dead.”

“You’re gonna need a lawyer in a minute!” Dash spat, restraining him with a firm hoof planted upon his back. “Stop talking in riddles and start coughing up information instead of your guts!

“Darling, let me deal with this ruffian,” Rarity said calmly, her gaze never faltering from their glaring lock on the stallion. Through narrowed eyes, she asked, “Are you implying that we would recognise the name of whoever you would claim to be?”

“Attractive, assertive and astute?” The stallion managed a chuckle. “Your tactics are exceptional; I almost want to introduce myself. Yes, that is my implication. As for the reason why I snuck in here: well, I’m lying right underneath it.”

Reluctant to permit him a break from interrogation, Rarity chanced a look skywards.

Hm? Is that…?

Though a routine sight among famous libraries with a centrepiece to gloat, there was something a little too familiar about the lone book standing proudly atop the tall pedestal.

Then Rarity realised she knew its contents without glancing at a single word etched within.

It was no secret that Twilight’s coronation had come to pass thanks to her perfecting of Starswirl the Bearded’s unfinished spell of friendship. In his honour upon its completion, Twilight had requested the black book to be preserved inside his wing of the library. The population had been quick to favour this verdict, and it was said the legendary book now commanded an inescapable overview of the chamber.

They certainly were not wrong there. So he was after Twilight’s book all along!

Questions, however, were still thick in Rarity’s mind, and the first to win the fight to get out of her mouth was not a long one. “Why?”

“A few days ago, I heard that a new princess was recently crowned because she completed a friendship spell,” wheezed the stallion with unsettling patience. “Loathe as I am to admit it, friends have always been something of a four-leaf clover in my life…and the ones I did make blew away about as easily. So I wanted to speed-read the book. Pick up a few tips. Then put it back.” A short silence draped dubiousness over his last statement. “…Possibly steal it.”

“Pig!” Stomping hard, Rainbow Dash kept the pressure on both his back and his precarious chances of receiving any kind of help. “You heard that Twilight wrote the spell a few days ago?” She snorted at his ignorance. “You must be a hermit or something; everypony knew that about a week back!”

“Forgive me,” responded the stallion flatly. “I’m sort of new around here.”

New? But he just said—aha! A gaping hole has opened within his story!

“You weave a convincing tale,” Rarity said, already looking forward to breaking his lies through logic, “but I’m afraid that remark has doomed you. You are ‘new’ around here, correct? Yet, mere moments ago, you claimed to live in such fame that your name alone would reveal to us everything about your identity.” Her smile told of blatant fakery. “The contradiction speaks for itself, I think.”

“…What an unfortunately valid point. This sort of coincidental misunderstanding is typical of my luck.”

Bending down to feed a threat directly into his ear, Rainbow Dash hissed in terrifying seriousness. “Misunderstanding? I don’t think so. Listen, you runt. I hate liars, and you don’t want me as your enemy. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t beat the truth out of you right now.”

“Because everything I have said is true!” shouted the stallion with impressive conviction, making Rainbow jolt back in surprise. After a fit of coughs rewarded his momentary loss of patience, he choked, “You want to make a game of this? Then I see your contradiction, and I raise you with this question: how did I gain entry to this forbidden library at all?”

“Easy!” taunted Rainbow Dash. “Discord busted the lock with his abra-kadabra rubbish, and now you’re snooping around to steal Twilight’s book!”

“Precisely,” Rarity agreed with a shrug of finality. “You are Discord’s accomplice.”

“What?!” So animated was the stallion’s outburst that he wriggled with laughter underneath the hoof gluing him to the carpet. “Now you are the jester, Miss Rarity! I hate that manipulative freak! No, I busted the lock with my abra-kadabra rubbish. Why do you think I’m so knackered?”

“Because…” Rarity bit her lip, her inability to prove that events unfolded otherwise giving her opponent’s tide a palpable nudge.

“I managed to force my way inside,” the stallion went on, “but what I didn’t count on is this book of friendship having an extra layer of protection: a magical shield that I tried to destroy. Shattering that damnable lock had already drained a dangerous amount of my energy, so I knew it was all or nothing…and I failed. My offensive spell ricocheted off the barrier and destroyed that shelf over there.”

He gestured lazily to his left, where a former row of scrolls on shapeshifting now did not teach the mind with wisdom so much as attack the nose with the acrid smell of singed paper.

Rarity conceded a small nod. “Well, that explains the tremendous crash from before.”

“So you’re not pals with Discord?” Rainbow Dash pressed. “You managed to mangle the lock all by your sorry little self?”

“I swear it. I have met the fiend on numerous occasions, but working with him? I’d rather make a soufflé out of my own mane!”

He knows Discord personally? And the gaps in his story—they would all be patched if…!

An idea – a ridiculous, laughable idea as to the identity of the mystery pony – bounced around Rarity’s head, vying for acknowledgement. She dismissed it. Not only did the very room within which she stood teach that the single direction possible in time travel was backwards, but this stallion packed his speech with satirical banter that Rarity could not imagine ponies of old having employed at all.

Deciding to induce the matter into dormancy for the time being, Rarity moved on to what she thought would be an unrelated question. “So why are you only interested in Twilight’s spell? My imagination must stretch into surrealism to picture that you would not take a fancy to as many other powerful spells as you could carry.”

The stallion was clearly past elaborate evocations by this point, for he answered only, “Because I know what is written inside every other book and upon every other scroll in this room.”

The suspicion which Rarity had disregarded moments before tore to the front of her mind with a vengeance.

No! It can’t be! He can’t be! I won’t believe it! I need more evidence!

Before she could invent a question that might indirectly prompt him to unveil more about his past, Rainbow Dash had latched onto another issue. “Wait a sec. You’re lying on the ground underneath my epic hoof of justice, but you’re more tired than when we found your pathetic flank! How is that possible, you sneaky turd? Why are you still losing energy?”

“Your surprise is…surprising,” answered the unicorn raggedly, his remaining strength visibly ebbing. “I did tell you that I’m basically dying here. Unless you look past your distrust and help me, I don’t have long…”

“That doesn’t answer the question!”

Their captive had not opened his dry mouth to answer again before Rarity spoke for him. “You’re casting spells even as we speak, aren’t you?” she stated more than asked, confident that her magical instincts were not misleading her. “Permanent spells. Ever since we came in, I have sensed a powerful aura of magic originating from you.”

“Ah, Miss Rarity,” wheezed the stallion weakly. “It’s as if you have known me for years. But I can only wish to have a friend such as you…” A humourless chuckle escaped him. “Yes, I am casting two long-term spells at this very moment.”

“And they are?” demanded Rainbow Dash, her hoof placing virtually all her body weight upon his back.

The stallion could barely utter a word anymore without ripping the air with heavy gasps as his struggling lungs sucked at whatever their damaged capacity could hold. “One is to disguise myself… An age spell… I am much older than I appear…”

Rainbow Dash looked on the verge of an anticipation meltdown. “And the other?!”

“The other has been accompanying me for days… Can’t let go…or else…”

The stallion collapsed. His head struck the floor as his horn suddenly began expelling enormous bursts of red light, and Rarity recognised the frightening symptom of fatal exhaustion in a unicorn. These makeshift fireworks which sacrificed what little energy he had left were beyond the stallion’s control, acting merely as nature’s distress flare in a final, instinctive cry for help.

With his eyes clamped shut, the unicorn was not gifted a quick welcome into unconsciousness and he flailed about in terrible discomfort. The red eruptions from his horn soon devolved into pathetic sparks of black discharge, and Rarity watched in utter horror while the stallion whispered things inaudible, things that she just knew were his final peace-makings.

It was late, but Rarity felt reality arrive.

I’m watching somepony die.

A feeling as unidentifiable as the stallion gripped her, and the command to prolong his life reverberated inside her head so forcefully that she could not have ignored its will if she herself had been unconscious.

On the most meaningful whim of her life, Rarity touched her horn to his and commenced the Splicer Spell.

“What the heck are you doing?!” yelled Rainbow Dash. “We can’t give him the power to do whatever he wants! He’ll just teleport away!”

“And I cannot watch a fellow unicorn take his last breath when I can save him!” A flash of alabaster white signalled the transportation of enough energy to sustain him for perhaps an hour, but the exertion was unprecedented; Rarity staggered sideways as a sizeable chunk of vitality abandoned her body.

Good grief! I know an age spell is complex and consuming, but even so… What in the name of Equestria is the other spell he has active?

Then he stilled. The intense, panicked atmosphere caused by looming death eased, and Rarity’s heart slowed in sync with the stallion’s once ragged gasping. Beside her, Rainbow Dash seemed to have grudgingly accepted her actions as a necessity, and she relented as her hoof finally lifted from its role of imprisoning him.

“Y-You saved me,” the unicorn managed, so emotionally charged that his voice rang with sincerity for the first time. After standing to his full height, he bowed deeply. “Thank you, Miss Rarity!”

She nodded, a small smile inexplicably curling her mouth. “That should keep you in full health for another hour or thereabouts. But how do you intend to spend it? You surely understand that we cannot just let you go.”

Returning a much wider smile, the stallion spoke now with purpose. “Of course. My mind is made up. Please, take me to Princess Celestia. We have a history together, and shame stopped me from consulting with her first… But I’m not afraid anymore. I know that she will arrange to keep me alive and well.”

Rarity could see no flaw in his proposal until Rainbow Dash pointed out what the hectic events of the past half-hour had made her forgotten. “Uh, that’s a nice, lovey-dovey sentiment and all, but Celestia is kinda in the middle of something important at the minute, and—” Rainbow cocked her head as a realisation hit her. “Hang on… Rarity, so are we! We should be downstairs in the Conference Room right now hearing why the hay Twilight and Fluttershy went AWOL on us!”

Muddled thoughts had Rarity blinking several times in surprise, her head making a botched attempt at comprehending the number of strange happenings that had swooped upon them in a single evening. “You’re quite right, darling,” she replied slowly.

“So what do we do with Krakatoa here in the meantime?”

“I could wait outside until your business concludes,” offered the stallion after a warm chuckle. “Well, until I feel like I’m going to throw up again, at least.”

Uncertainty of how much trust she could afford to yield was still troubling Rarity. “I hope our fragile truce will not fracture while we finish our meeting. Because if you were to wander off—”

“Then my death certificate will be signed before you go to bed,” interrupted the stallion, motioning at Rarity’s horn. “You were gracious enough to keep my cylinders running for a bit longer, but gambling with my life again would redefine insanity. A second chance is my only hope now, and by running away I would simply be distancing myself from being granted one.”

Rarity thought she saw reminiscent pain flash in his eyes for the second she spent considering how to respond. “And you think that Princess Celestia will grant it to you?”

“Yes. I… I miss her. Call me clichéd, but she was the only one who ever understood me.” He made no attempt to hide another bout of glumness as a heavy sigh drew itself from his lips. “I miss everything about my old life. What I wouldn’t give just to hear Celestia crack her light but indulgent sense of humour one more time…”

His surprising accuracy of Celestia’s character encouraged some belief to settle inside Rarity. A twinge of sympathy, however, was tempting a potentially dangerous lull in her awareness, so she scrapped the atmosphere before it could develop. “Have it your way, criminal stallion. Come, Rainbow darling. We are escorting our mystery guest from this creepy place.”

When the three of them were bathed in the safe light of the corridor, Rarity extinguished her luminous orb and shut the double doors in a second din of creaking. She had no plans, however, to reinstall the compromised security. “The royal sisters enforce the lock, don’t they?” She sighed, looking pitifully at the ruined mechanism. “We shall have to report this to them.”

Rainbow Dash chuckled. “Yup, along with some strong advice of thwacking on a few extra features. …Hey, wait up!”

The stallion was already trotting down the corridor at a brisk speed, and Rarity had difficulty keeping apace while simultaneously retaining her mane’s flawless curls.

The unreliable light inside the library had left Rarity unsure whether her eyes were properly distinguishing the stallion’s colour and specific features, but with his form now in full view, she could see that her first impressions had been spot on.

Both his body and his mane were a deep blue, the matching pair doing a fair job of complementing his golden eyes. His cutie mark was unspectacular, but looking at it stirred implacable familiarity within her.

Rarity would not have praised him so highly as handsome, but he wielded an odd, almost accidental charm that was still making Rarity doubt her educated guess towards his identity.

My stab in the dark seemed comical at first, but everything he says solidifies the theory with more and more plausibility. I must find out if I am correct!

“You were about to inform us of the second spell you are constantly casting,” she reminded him as their hooves tapped out a pleasing rhythm upon the carpet. “I don’t think I need to tell you that the amount of energy I sacrificed for you was, to be frank, ridiculous. Your gratitude is all well and good, but I would like to know which spell is working alongside your age spell.”

Although his hooves never stopped travelling, the stallion paused to consider his answer. Eventually, with each word carefully chewed, he admitted, “If I had ceased that second spell, I wouldn’t have been at risk of dying. Instead, a fate far worse would have awaited me: being dragged back home, where my only companions in life are loneliness and misery.”

Unadulterated disbelief took hold on Rainbow Dash’s face. “What? You chose death over another shot at making friends? It doesn’t matter how bad things are at the moment, you idiot! As long as you’re hanging out with the living, there’s always a chance to find somepony who’ll understand! Rarity reminded me of that about fifteen minutes ago! In a toilet!”

Oh, Rainbow Dash… That tough exterior hides a mare who has so much love to give.

The still-nameless stallion deigned not to challenge the pegasus, nor agree. He arrived at the floor from which Rarity had departed – the floor that hosted the Conference Room – and the bottom of the stairs reflected the state of Rarity’s patience. “Halt! That is enough. I did not wish for it to come to this, but your cryptic nonsense is forcing my ultimatum. Say your name, stallion, clearly and simply, or else I shall withdraw my contribution of my Splicer Spell.”

He froze, his back to the both of them. “…You drive a hard bargain, Miss Rarity.”

Turning to face her, the stallion wore a reminiscent expression and chuckled as he proclaimed, “What a night! It’s not often one gets caught in such a mixed web of activities over the course of just a couple of hours. I mean, breaking into my own library; accidentally blowing up an entire shelf of my own work; being saved from either certain death or my own past by a unicorn who is way out of my league; and then being denied the chance to read a life-saving book, half of which I authored myself, by that same beautiful unicorn…” He laughed again. “I suppose this is karma for being such a secretive perfectionist. For failing to write down or share the secrets of time travelling into the future with anypony else.”

“Then it’s true!” gasped Rarity, her second hunch of the night having been proven right on the trot. “The other spell: it’s time travel! You’re him! From the past! You’re…!”

“Whatshisname the Bearded!” Rainbow finished, somehow unable to recall the household name whose famous library they had just trespassed.

The beardless pony smiled. “Please, if you don’t mind, it’s just Starswirl now.”

Author's Note:

My physical descriptions of Starswirl are nothing but my imagination's general prompts, and your mind should have fun hatching its own specifics. By giving any details at all, I am inviting potential embarrassment upon myself—apart from his legendary beard, which I have shaved to great irony, canon has been stingy about his appearance. So, if Starswirl is now shown in Season 4, feel free to laugh as the show renders me a blundering clown!