Twilight awoke in a puddle of mud. Dirty brown mud.
For those of you not familiar with the experience of being a winged, hair-coated creature, getting stuck in the mud is an extremely uncomfortable experience.
“Ugh,” was all Twilight could say as she spat out mud and filth from her mouth. Her muzzle was practically coated with the stuff. “Yuck!” She tried to pry her wings out, but the mud was coated on too thick. She waved her hooves about. “Oh by Celestia, it’s everywhere!” Twilight wallowed in the mud pool a little longer. Then a thought hit her. She was slowly, but surely, sinking.
“Oh, no, no, no, no!”
Desperately, she tried to crawl out of the muck. The mud was thick and goopy. She could feel it weighing her down as she struggled harder.
“Ugh!” she grunted again. “Why is there so much mud?!”
Though the experience was wholly uncomfortable for Twilight, it was even more so for the filly that stumbled across Twilight wallowing around in the mud-bog hole. Now, whilst a level-headed adult might conclude that the vaguely pony-shaped mud-mass was probably a pony, the young pony only had one thought.
“Ahhhhhhh!” she screamed shrilly. “Monster!”
Twilight gaped at the filly for a moment, then reached a hoof out. “Hold on, help!”
The filly, wily to the ways of monsters in her treasured fables, knew exactly what she needed to do. Grabbing a nearby branch, she swung the thick stick at Twilight’s head and bolted like the minions of Tartarus were right behind her. Twilight tried to duck, but the sucking mud slowed her movement and the tree branch solidly connected with her skull.
Twilight nursed her suddenly sore head. “Ow!” she growled. “What the hay?!” She glanced around but the filly was long gone. Sighing, Twilight picked herself up and tried again to exit the mud puddle. Although, on further reflection, she reasoned that the puddle was more of a small pond, what with her sinking about halfway into it.
“This always happens,” she grumbled, trying to wiggle her legs. She concentrated briefly but her horn merely sparked a bit before going inert. Twilight wallowed in the muck a bit more, but she didn’t make it very far. She noticed glumly that a caterpillar, two feet away, seemed to be making more progress across a leaf than she did in the muck. She tried her horn again. No luck. She was totally drained of magic for at least a few hours, so to escape, she’d have to wait a while before she could teleport out.
Resigning herself to her fate, she sat in the muck and prayed to the stars that a wandering Timberwolf or an enraged Ursa wouldn’t come by. The bushes rustled ominously near her spot. A shiver crept down her spine. She really hoped there wouldn’t be any dangerous animals nearby.
“How did I get myself into this mess?” she grumbled to herself.
––––
“Now don’t touch this, it’s very unstable.”
“Uhm, Discord?”
“Mm?”
“What happens if somepony touches it?”
“Well, my dear, I believe it would vaporise them on the spot!”
Fluttershy eyed the glowing bit of energy nervously. She took a few steps away from it. Then, she took a few more, just to be sure.
“Uhm, if it’s so dangerous why did you create it?”
Discord tapped his claws on a conjured desk. He shuffled around some notes and shifted the wire-frame glasses on his snout.
“It seems I have noted down here that Twilight wanted to perform some sort of time spell and I agreed to help her.”
“Not that Ah’m doubting your good intentions, but why the hay would you help Twilight?” Fluttershy glanced up from the hypnotic pulsing orb of light and spotted Applejack coming towards them. She waved timidly as Applejack tilted her head to her with a cheerful grin. Her expression darkened as she met the draconequus.
“Why I- Can’t a friend help another friend?”
Applejack’s mouth twisted into a grimace. Her glare sent back all that needed to be said.
Discord threw his claw-paws up. “Okay! Perhaps there is some chaos to be had, but only in small non-threatening doses which is by the full consent of all parties involved!”
Fluttershy nodded and placed a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder. “He’s telling the truth,” she added.
Applejack just rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know. Ah just wanted to know why you had to do it on the edge of mah property!”
“Oh, heh, sorry about that,” a voice called from above. “This was the only place far enough away from ponies but not too close to the Everfree.”
“Twi’? Ah’ll never get used to you popping about like Rainbow and Pinkie do,” Applejack muttered, putting a hoof to her chest. “Two’s enough fer me.”
Twilight grinned sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said, landing awkwardly on her hooves. “I’m still getting used to the flying thing. I was supposed to land back there.”
Applejack shook her head. “Never mind, how come Ah didn’t know about this earlier? Couldn’t you have sent me a message?”
Twilight looked confused. “I did, didn’t I? I sent you a letter a few days ago, I’m sure of it.”
Applejack gave Twilight a deadpan stare. “You know our letterbox was totalled last week? Big Mac still hasn’t gotten around to fixin’ it.”
Twilight shook her head in exasperation. “I’ll never know how those fillies can get into so much trouble.” She grinned ruefully. “Sorry, Applejack. I should have dropped by to let you know.”
Applejack smiled. “Ah well, no harm done. As fer those three, there’ll be a stern talkin’ in their future, that’s fer sure.” Applejack eyed the glowing bit of energy with the same unease that Fluttershy had shown a little earlier.
“You don’t think that’ll cause trouble, do you? Ah didn’t prepare nothin’ to protect my orchard.”
“Don’t worry, Applejack, it’s perfectly safe!”
“No offence, Twi’, but the last time you said that, all the water in Ponyville turned into rainbows.”
“Well, now that was a slight miscalculation…”
“And don’t forget that one time you animated your castle so it could talk. We had to deal with it complaining all week!” Discord chimed in.
“Okay, perhaps there might have been some notes I’ve overlook—“
“Then there was the time when you turned mah apples into oranges! Granny Smith was none too pleased.”
“Well I simply didn’t account for—“
“Uhm, and the time when you tested on some of the animals… the chickens didn’t like laying those cube eggs…”
Twilight made a helpless gesture. “Okay! Okay! Sometimes my spells go less than optimally expected, but this is more of a structured experiment than a magical mishap. It’ll be fine, I promise!”
Applejack didn’t look impressed. She locked gazes with Twilight, her demeanour changing from exasperated to concerned. “Promise me, Twilight, that you’ll be okay?”
Twilight nodded. “Of course,” she replied. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Applejack sighed. “Last time you said that, you disappeared for a few hours. Gave me an’ the others a heart attack.”
Twilight looked taken aback. “I–Okay. Don’t worry, it’ll be just a short trip. Only a minute at most. Possibly five.” she looked around. Fluttershy nodded, Discord looked disinterested until Fluttershy nudged him.
“Wha– oh, yes, yes, I’ll miss you.” He waved a dismissive claw.
Fluttershy rolled her eyes. “Discord would miss you too.”
Discord put a paw behind his head and sighed. “Yes, well I would miss your grumpy face whenever you see me. Then again, the only time you ever see me is when you need me for your experiments, so I guess it’s mutual.” He turned away.
Twilight glanced over to Fluttershy, who looked a little taken aback.
“I-I didn’t know Discord, I’m sorry,” she offered, but it didn’t seem like Discord was having any of it.
“Hmph, well what do I know? I’m just a draconequus on a leash anyway.” He snapped his claw bringing the glowing bit of energy closer. “Let’s just finish this and go home.”
Twilight stared at the red ball of light and then back at Discord. “I’ll make it up to you, like a friend would do,” she said as she stamped a hoof. “Tell you what, I’ll do what you want for a day. Sound fair?”
Discord perked up. “Really? Anything for a day?” He had a glint in his eye.
Twilight hesitated, then nodded more firmly. “Yes. I give you my word as a Princess.”
Discord smirked. “Well now. That’s something I didn’t expect you to ever say.” He grabbed the glowing bit of energy and tossed it between his claws and paws. Fluttershy gasped. “Oh don’t worry, it’s fine with me.” He waggled an appendage. “Just don’t touch it yourself. Okay! I’m fired up.” He summoned a military-style helmet and saluted Twilight. “What’s next, Sarge?”
Twilight grinned toothily.
“Now, we do magic.”
––––––
The rustle in the bushes was steadily growing louder.
Twilight felt a trickle of sweat bead across her brow as she focused on the bushes. The bushes rustled again. Twilight gritted her teeth and with a herculean effort, pulled a hoof free of the mud. Maybe she could deflect the animal while it pounced? Maybe if she were fast enough, the animal might hit the mud instead and get dragged down. She held onto that hope tightly.
Then, out of nowhere, the bush talked.
“Nopony is there, right?”
Twilight twitched. If she answered, wouldn’t she be telling him the contrary? Also, if you want to know if nopony was around, you wouldn’t call out in a whisper would you?
She glanced around. Well, as she expected, there was nopony else around. “Apart from me,” she called out and the bush rustled one more time. A blur leaped out and half-crouched in front of her. Twilight focused on the nervous stallion in relief. Finally, somepony to help her out of this mess.
“Quick,” he whispered urgently to her, his horn lighting up. “We must away.”
Twilight felt the spell drag at her roughly. She yelped as the mud sucked at her legs, trying to draw her back in. All throughout the slow process of pulling her out, the grey-coated stallion danced on the spot.
“Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered.
“Ouch! Slower, please,” she squealed as Twilight felt what she imagined was the sensation of her hooves coming away from her body. Not a pleasant sensation.
“Can’t stop, no respite, we have to leave!”
With a ’squelch’ Twilight was pulled free. She shot up a few feet in the air and then toppled onto the ground.
“Oof,” she grunted, a little off-put by his brisk method but still grateful. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it, always here to help a fellow unicorn. Let’s get going.” The unicorn trotted off, flicking his tail and heading down briskly on a well-trodden path.
“We need to get to the castle soon, from there we can get you something.” He glanced back uneasily. “Unless we run into trouble.”
Twilight couldn’t help but ask.
“What trouble? What are we running away from?”
He looked at her as if she was hit in the head. Twilight had to admit, she was.
“You were hit in the head pretty hard. Hah, don’t look at me like that. I was in the bushes looking for ingredients for the latest potion I was brewing. Then suddenly, I hear a scream and I just look through the bushes to find a little filly running off. You’re lucky, by the way. You could of had worse.”
“Worse?”
“Mmm, yeah. You could have gotten into a tangle with some pegasi or earth ponies. Lucky you found me, right?”
Twilight found herself rooted on the spot. “What?” she spluttered.
––––––
Twilight brought out a sapphire-blue gossamer cloth from her saddlebag. Carefully, she levitated the cloth and wrapped it around the glowing bit of energy.
Discord stroked his beard. “Oh? A Stitch in Time? Very clever.”
Twilight clapped her hooves. “Exactly! See, I knew I’d have to carry this around with me, but I didn’t know how. I mean how could you carry around a Temporal Singularity—”
“—Without dissolving into dust and fine particles. Yes, I see it now. So you trapped it in a bubble.”
“A bubble?”
“Of the dimensional kind.”
“I always thought it was more like a pocket?”
“Pockets have a hole in the top. That defeats the purpose of an all-encompassing ‘bubble’. Besides, bubbles are so much more fun.”
Over in Sugarcube corner, Pinkie twitched.
“I agree!” she blurted out loud. The Cakes looked back from the counter and Pinkie put a hoof to her muzzle in embarrassment. Mrs. Cake gestured to the napping twins urgently, glaring daggers at her.
“Heh,” she mumbled. “Sorry.”
–––––
“What? Are you deaf?” He stamped a hoof. “If you got caught by either one of the tribes there’d be nothing left for me to save. With any fortune from the stars they’d send a small group or her parents and they’d put it down to a flight of fancy. Poor foal.”
Twilight was briefly distracted from his babbling. This didn’t seem like the target timeline she was aiming for. This was before the unification of the tribes, wasn’t it? How many thousands of years was that?!
A sudden thought struck Twilight.
My saddlebags, where are my saddlebags?!
“No, no, no, no!” she cried, casting around for the bags emblazoned with her cutie mark. “We have to go back!” She turned around, preparing to dash off.
The stallion darted in front of her, barring her way.
“Move it!” Twilight growled menacingly. “I have to get to the mud puddle. My saddlebags.”
“What? Are you crazy?” he hissed, blocking her way. “Do you have a death wish?”
“It’s important,” Twilight snapped, trying to edge around him. She needed to get back.
“Stop it!” he growled, glaring at her. “The saddlebags are lost now. Believe me when I say going back to them is not worth the risk.”
Twilight’s mouth twisted into a pout. She pulled herself up and put on a serious expression.
“I need those saddlebags,” she stated deliberately slowly. The stallion took a few steps back and watched her with cat-like yellow irises. He pulled himself up.
“I did not risk my life to save you just so you can throw it away. Tell you what, we can come back here later if you wish. For now, we need to get out of here.” His gaze softened. “Come with me and I’ll be able to give you a bed and some rest. You’d be exhausted from struggling in the mud for so long, and you’ll need a place to stay. Besides…” He glanced towards the horizon. “There’s scant few hours left in the day. If you’d like to search in the woods during the dark…” At that moment, the cry of a wolf broke through the tense silence.
Twilight knew what he was trying to do, but relented anyway. He was right. Tiring herself out trying to look for the saddlebag would be foolhardy. With her magic depleted from crossing and her body caked with mud, she was in a dangerous proposition. Despite her new body, she began to shiver from her soaking wet coat. The heat was leaving her body slowly.
“Alright, I’ll go with you,” Twilight answered reluctantly. Oh, what was she thinking? She could just go back to the right point in time. Twilight shook her head, what was she getting so worked up about? She took a deep breath. Just calm down and deal with the situation logically. She felt her tensed muscles relax. Okay. Calmer.
It suddenly occurred to Twilight that she hadn’t the faintest idea what this mysterious stallion’s name was. She paused. He didn’t even know her name and yet he just offered her lodging and food. “Thank you,” she repeated this time more strongly. He nodded and trotted around her to lead the way. “Just one last thing, though,” she said, stopping the unicorn in mid-stride. “What’s your name?”
The stallion gave her a lopsided smile.
“Star Swirl,” he answered, and continued on his way.
Twilight followed behind ‘Star Swirl’, her hooves plodding along mechanically as she tried to process how she was literally walking in the hoof steps of one of the greatest mages that Equestria had ever seen.
There was doubt, of course, there was no way the awe-inspiring foundation of modern magic was this roguish stallion. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. His physical description, well what little there was recorded, seemed to match. He had a grey coat, yellow eyes and… Twilight frowned. She realised that there wasn’t much else in the history books pertaining to Star Swirl at all.
Most of the facts centred around his achievements and what he did, not really what he looked like. In fact, the most books usually delved into was his uncommon dress for the era. The Stars and Moon bell-studded cape and hat were his trademark for the ages. Twilight’s mouth habitually twisted in disdain. Some ponies didn’t even know that.
She sighed. Did she get the right pony? Perhaps she would find out later when they got to his home. They always said that Star Swirl had a penchant for towers and underground passages. Maybe his home was in one of those. Or maybe… maybe she’d stumbled back in time to before Star Swirl had met the Princesses? It made sense, this was before the unification of the tribes. Gah, this was not what was planned at all! A simple spell and she was just meant to go a few seconds back. She’d only made a few modifications to Star Swirl’s original spell. It shouldn’t have sent her that far…
A sudden thought occurred to her. Of course it wouldn’t work! If she went back a few seconds then she would have seen herself before she even started the spell. That in itself was proof for the fact that she hadn’t gotten the spell right! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Could that be used as a fail-safe for the spell? No wait, if she prevented herself from travelling because she didn’t see herself travel, then she made a self-fulfilling prophecy and it would have failed anyway?
So absorbed was she in her thoughts, Twilight didn’t realise that Star Swirl had stopped, and she continued forward until she stumbled into him.
“Oof, sorry,” she mumbled. The unicorn was stock still. He didn’t reply.
“Star Swirl? Hello?” Twilight waved a hoof in front of his face. She prodded him.
“What?” he said. “Oh, sorry I must have blanked out there.” He blinked a couple of times.
“I’m just trying to figure out how to get across.” Twilight looked ahead to where the unicorn was pointing to, a fairly new-looking rope bridge swaying gently in the breeze.
“It’s a bridge,” Twilight stated. “You can just trot across it.”
Star Swirl’s eyes darted to the bridge and back to Twilight.
“Yes,” he said, eyeing the structure. “I can, can’t I?”
Twilight hesitated, taking note of the affirmative and negative in his statement, but then spoke the question that was hanging around them anyway.
“You’re not scared of heights, are you?”
“What? Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Good, you can go first, then.”
Star Swirl looked like Twilight had asked him to swallow pins and needles.
“Y-Yes, of c-course. I’m not af-fraid!”
Twilight grinned. “Of course you’re not. I’ll go on the bridge first, no need to prove yourself, since you are so brave indeed.”
The sarcasm seemed to slip by Star Swirl.
“Yes. I will hold onto your torso. To keep you safe, so you don’t have to fear falling off.”
Twilight nodded good-naturedly. “Yes, that would make me feel so much more safe.”
As her hoof hit the plank of wood and it creaked, Twilight had to suppress a giggle as she heard a small whimper issue from the beleaguered stallion.
–––––
Fluttershy looked at Discord.
“Is Twilight, uhm, coming back?”
Discord fumbled in his notebook. He pulled out a pair of reading glasses.
“Oh I don’t know! She said she was going a few moments into the past but I knew she would have failed.”
Fluttershy’s face drew into a frown. “I don’t understand.”
“Well if she were successful, then we would have seen her past self appear before her future self left.” He shivered. “We’d essentially have two Twilights for a brief moment in time.”
Applejack looked like she’d pieced it together in her head. “Hey, but if that’s true, then yer would’a known about it before Twi’ left. Why didn’t yer say something?”
Discord shrugged. “If you know Time, then you know that doing so wouldn’t have made a difference. She simply would have stopped going back and then blame the failure of the experiment on me. Then she would have tried going back anyway.”
From Applejack’s frown, Fluttershy figured she was confused. Celestia knew she didn’t get it.
“Uhm, okay. I don’t really understand, but I don’t think you could have done anything…”
“Anything? He’s Discord! He can do anything!” Applejack snapped.
Discord crossed his arms, looking annoyed in spite of himself. He waved a sharp claw in front of Applejack’s muzzle. Her eyes darted left and right as she tried to keep track of it. Eventually, he drew it away. From Applejack’s expression, Fluttershy knew she wasn’t pleased with the draconequus making light of the moment. She glanced at him, he looked serious though.
“I may be powerful but I’m not all-powerful,” he growled, snapping into existence a mug of coffee. He leaned back in the air, sipping the brew. He visibly calmed himself. “And just because I have the power to influence things, doesn’t mean I should.”
“Ah don’t get it. Why wouldn’t ya help yer friends if you had the power to?”
“There’s such a thing as helping too much.”
Fluttershy piped up. “How can you help too much?” She thought about all her animal friends in her cottage and inadvertently smiled. “Helping makes you feel good as much as the ones you are helping?”
Discord stroked a claw across his wizened beard. He held out one claw-tip, composing himself.
“Remember the breezies?” He conjured up clouds that resembled the breezies. “There’s such a thing as too much kindness.” He blew on the clouds and they floated around the pair. “If you coddle ponies too much they’ll grow to love the attention and the reward without the effort.” With a sharp claw he ‘popped’ each cloud. “It’s meaningless after that.”
Fluttershy bit her lip. She learned that lesson not too long ago.
“I suppose you’re right…” she mumbled. “But there are still times when being kind and helping others is the right thing to do.”
Applejack grunted in agreement. “Sure as hay, and I think you could’a tried harder ta help Twilight.”
Discord laid a paw on his chest. “I’m offended you would think so low of me, Applejack.”
“Yer were a little hard on her before…”
“I’ve put that behind me. Besides, Twilight did everything herself. I just put in the magic and poof! Away she goes. It’s not my fault if she gets it wrong.”
“But yer knew it was wrong!”
Discord sighed audibly. “As I’ve been saying, me dear Applejack, I couldn’t have prevented it. It was out of my power.”
“Sounds like a load of baloney to me.”
“That’s enough you two,” Fluttershy started, her voice carrying a slight edge. Surprised by her tone, Applejack and Discord lapsed into silence and stared at Fluttershy. Fluttershy could feel her confidence faltering but she bustled on. “We all have concerns for Twilight.” She looked to Discord and Applejack in turn. “And we all want the best for her, as before. We should concentrate on what to do now instead of thinking about what we’ve done before.”
Discord cocked his head, as if unable to process what Applejack had done.
“You're apologising to me?” he asked incredulously. He paused and drew a breath. “I guess I'm sorry too.”
Applejack looked confused.
“Fer what?”
“For that.” He pointed above Applejack's head. A cotton candy-coloured cloud broiled ominously. He snapped his fingers and dismissed the cloud. Applejack shook her head.
“Ah well, I would'a expected you ta do that,” she mumbled, eyeing the now-vacant patch of sky. “At least I didn’t get drenched.”
“Yay, you see?” Discord said pointedly while looking at Fluttershy. “We're friends again.” He spoiled the effect by rolling his eyes.
This isn’t how I pictured making up would be like, Fluttershy thought.
––––––
“Come on Star Swirl, you can make it across,” Twilight cheered. Her hooves waved enthusiastically, but there was a slight bemusement to the movement, a slight exaggeration that Star Swirl couldn’t dismiss. “There’s nothing to fear,” she added a little unnecessarily. Then she grinned wickedly. “Just don’t look down.”
So of course, Star Swirl’s eyes gravitated towards the misty fathomless depths below.
“H-Ha H-H-Ha! V-Very funny.”
Somewhere along the way, Twilight had managed to detach herself from Star Swirl’s grabby hooves as the bridge swung to and fro. Her eyes were filled with laughter as Star Swirl realised that he hadn’t fooled her for a second.
“Don’t worry, it’s a new bridge, what could go wrong?”
“Don’t say that!” he snapped, crouching as a gentle breeze rocked the structure. “You’ll hex me.”
Twilight smirked. “Hexes don’t— ah wait, not in this time…”
Star Swirl glanced curiously as the mare trailed off and stared blankly into the air for a moment.
A bit of a feather-brain, he thought to himself. His distraction was short-lived however as a slow wind picked up around him, shifting the boards slightly. His pondering dissolved into the void as fear and self-preservation took over.
This is the worst thing ever, Star Swirl fumed.
A particularly strong breeze brought out a girly shriek from his lips. The sound of poorly-contained laughter overlaying his silent embarrassment echoed through the gorge.
Twilight had elected to keep any comments quiet about the legendary (though she had no small inkling of doubt) mage’s humble abode. His small cabin squatted awkwardly on an isolated hill surrounded by unclipped trees and overgrown shrubbery. As Twilight watched Star Swirl heave at the handle of his door, she tried to swallow any misgivings about following this stallion to his decidedly dilapidated … rustic residence.
Inside his home, Star Swirl had taken the time to guide the uneasy alicorn around his small home, showing her everything in it, as if he’d never had a house guest before. His actions reminded her of a small foal she sometimes saw in Cheerilee’s class. He had trouble keeping still. The thought had unexpectedly cast her mind back.
Perhaps he’s a little like Pinkie, she mused to herself but she gave a slight shrug and dismissed it as Star Swirl led her to a small corner of his home. He pointed to a few ornaments hanging on the wall and babbled about their esoteric origins. Though Twilight would never ignore an opportunity to learn something new, her chattering teeth reminded her and Star Swirl that Twilight was still covered in heat-leaching mud.
Startled by the audible rhythmic clack of of Twilight’s teeth, Star Swirl seemed to remember himself and he hastily opened the door to what looked like his bathroom. With a sly grin and holding a hoof to his nose, he told her in no uncertain terms that though his standards for hygiene were lax, his sense of smell was certainly not. Though true, the off-hoof statement had irked her and she had responded by slamming the roughly hewn door in his smug face. Rolling her eyes and left alone to herself, Twilight sighed and wondered how her life could get so complicated sometimes.
“It’s always Discord,” she muttered to herself, trotting to the only feature in the spartan bathroom. Though the room had little in the way of features, a mysterious source infused the room with warmth and soon Twilight stopped shivering. Star Swirl had told her to get washed up, but Twilight realised belatedly that there wouldn’t be any of the modern conveniences that modern magic afforded. Hot water was probably definitely out of the question. Sighing, Twilight sidled over to the rough-hewn half-cask that squatted in the centre of the bathroom like a self-satisfied toad.
I’ll bet Discord had a claw in this, she thought darkly. She shook her head clear of the dangerously broiling thoughts and reluctantly cast around for water. She could grumble about Discord later, for now she had to get clean. When she found it, her ears wilted and she could feel the disappointment laid flat against her skull.
Well, this will be difficult.
That was probably the understatement of the century.
Twilight eyed the small barrel warily, her gaze drifting to the pail of water from time to time. Usually, her bath times were an ordered, magic-aided affair. A brush would be levitated in her spell, set to brushing at the appropriate frequency (~0.7 brushes per second), shampoo and conditioners poured out in small beakers and measuring cups in precise amounts, and her mane and tail precisely groomed to exact specifications to ensure the length and width were accurate to her preferred aesthetic dimensions.
Without magic, or indeed shampoo… or even a brush, she found it difficult to contemplate how one would achieve such a seemingly impossible feat. Pursing her lips, Twilight mentally flicked through her innate compendium of spells. A number of them offered themselves to the fore of her mind, but she dismissed them. It wasn’t possible with her reserves running so low. She needed a good night’s rest.
She glared at the pail, for a moment despising its very existence. It might be unfair to the pail, but she thought that as a Princess she should have the right to grumble and mumble from time to time. After all, she hadn’t done so in such a long while. Twilight gritted her teeth. Okay, enough stalling. Pail. Half-tub. How hard could it be?
–––––––
Star Swirl hummed to himself, flittering around the kitchen. After getting over the fact that she smelled something fierce, Star Swirl was excited to have a guest in his house. His hooves practically danced across the floor in glee as he fumbled around the cabinets for the ingredients of a modest stew. Freshly picked vegetables were sorted, water was drawn from the well, and luckily, he had the pail prepared for his own bath! Finally, there was another unicorn to talk to that wasn’t from the castle! At least, he didn’t think she was from the castle.
He chuckled to himself. No, none of the nobles would be caught dead in the muddy, swampy recesses of the forests. His expression brightened as he considered the implications.
Perhaps, they could become friends?
He paused, his hooves hovering over the pot. He shook his head doggedly. Maybe he shouldn’t get so excited. He might have given her lodging, and she might seem friendly enough, but that didn’t mean she would want to be friends with him. He dropped in the remaining potatoes and seasoning a mite more roughly than intended. But then he glanced at the table, finally set for more than one after so long…
Ah, who cares? Just go for it, he affirmed to himself.
Flicking closed the dampener for the stove, Star Swirl sighed and drew away from the kitchen to sit in one of the lone wooden chairs in the cosy lounge room. His flank had barely the time to touch the seat when a muffled exclamation and a series of dull thuds and crashes emanated from the washing room.
Feeling no small amount of trepidation, Star Swirl galloped towards the door and thudded his hoof on it.
“Are you okay?!” he yelled.
No response.
“Twilight? Is everything alright?”
Still no response.
Cautiously, he pried open the door. A small efflux of water flowed out of the room, to lazily encircle Star Swirl’s hooves. He gingerly lifted his hooves and brought his gaze up to see what lay within the bathroom. Twilight was splayed out in the middle of the assorted chaos, groaning slightly.
“How the hay did this happen?!” Star Swirl exclaimed.
–––––––
Twilight tried prying her wings from her sides but found the mud had hardened to an impenetrable exoskeleton. Her horn sparked again but she was unable to summon a more powerful spell than weak levitation. Disheartened, Twilight slumped back on the edge of the wooden barrel that qualified as a washtub. A small burnished mirror hung proudly off a disjointed hook on a wall. Star Swirl had mentioned, with a smug look on his face, that the mirror was a rarity in the land. Fine copper craftsponies were hard to come by and polishing the mirror was a chore, so mirrors only existed among the high socialites of the upper class nobility. Apparently, he had come to possess it after performing a favour for the local duchess, or so he claimed.
All these snippets of data were automatically catalogued in the back of her mind as Twilight’s thoughts scattered and swirled around in her headspace. These things tended to happen when she was apprehensive… or just nervous. Once again, she glared at the offending pail. It would be difficult enough to clamber into the ‘bathtub’ without her wings to help balance her. Though she hadn’t attained mastery of them, she had to admit they were instinctively useful in many small ways. Balancing, sensing wind and weather, helping her with falls and tumbles. She’d grown used to the luxury that they afforded.
Twilight bit her lip.
Okay, just do it, she urged herself. Won’t be a problem. Applejack and Pinkie do it all the time…
With a heave, Twilight flexed her fore hooves and hugged the pail awkwardly to herself. She brought it up and then set it down, panting slightly. When was the last time she had done any sort of work without the aid of magic? Winter Wrap Up? But that didn’t involve manual labour. Twilight blinked slowly. Had she ever been without magic in her life? There was Poison Joke but that was only temporary… Had there been any extended period of time that she was without her magic?
A rising sense of fear prickled up her hooves, threatening to grow and surge through her, to plunge her into panic and chaos. What if she couldn’t ever perform a levitation spell again? What if she were never to be able to perform magic again?!
No! she cried inwardly. That won’t happen!
With an effort Twilight stifled the fearful whispers rasping at the back of her mind. She resisted the urge to stomp her hoof and opted instead to take a deep, calming breath.
It’s okay, she thought. One problem at a time.
She glanced back at the pail. Moving it would be a simple application of force and momentum. She was heavier than it. Therefore she would greatly affect the velocity proportionally. Simple physics.
Grasping the pail again, she angled herself and heaved again. This time the heavy container came up with her and Twilight felt a surge of triumphant joy course through her as she freed it and carefully slung it up.
Okay, she thought. That’s the hard part…
Momentum betrayed her for a moment and she was forced to balance on her hind legs to push the centre of gravity forward. Teetering on her hind legs, she carefully aimed the pail at the tub and slowly tilted herself forward.
What she didn’t see was the small wet patch on the floor.
Taking an instinctive step back with one hind hoof to balance herself for the manoeuvre, Twilight let loose a shriek as she realised that her hoof held no traction whatsoever. Tumbling forward, she braced herself as she collided head-first into the tub with such force that the heavy barrel tilted over. The pail contents ejected themselves from their container in haste into Twilight’s face, with the pail itself flying away from her grasp. The water soaked the already dirty, matted and now sopping wet alicorn.
The pail, not done with the now dazed Twilight, ricocheted off the side wall and connected solidly with her face, sending her head over hooves. Unfortunately for Twilight, the pail had knocked her back a couple of steps, which would have been fine if not for the wet patch minding its own business on the same part of the floor. With a look of disbelief, mild confusion and a heavy dose of pain, Twilight slipped on the wet stone floor again and landed squarely on her back. To top it all off, the iron-banded barrel decided to dislodge itself from the wall and fall on top of her. Winded, Twilight could only wheeze as the door pounded and Star Swirl called out her name in frantic concern.
Her mouth only making fish-out-of-water movements, she could do little to respond to Star Swirl’s prior calls as he charged through the door and froze. The young stallion witnessed a bizarre tableau mainly comprising of Twilight’s awkward position wedged underneath an upturned barrel and slowly rotating pail coming to a lazy stop, as if taunting the accomplished spellcaster on the ineptitude of using her hooves.
Star Swirl wasn’t one to know that of course and the first words he blurted out were, “What the hay happened here?!”
Twilight shook her head, trying to get her double vision to focus.
“Tub… water… slip… wooo…” she mumbled, then collapsed.
For the record, the bathroom still remains one of the most dangerous places to be in, even after a thousand years.
Sighing, Star Swirl set forth a spell that tugged the dripping pony from her awkwardly wedged position under a bathtub. Given that the pony in question was knocked out, Star Swirl was fairly certain she would not mind the obvious discomfort that would normally cause. As he drew her out he noticed something strange about this particular pony.
Leaning in, he couldn’t make sense of the pair of lumps that adorned her back. The unicorn almost dropped the pony as his curiosity was piqued. He stepped back, cocking his head. What looked familiar about them? He glanced back. With a start and a shiver down his spine, it came to him. The thick mud that had originally obscured, had sleeted off and underneath revealed a pair of mottled amethyst wings. The feathered pinions shone dully in the wavering oil lamplight that suffused the small bathroom. Despite himself, Star Swirl found his gaze affixed to them.
Then the implications sank in and with belated alacrity, Star Swirl dropped the pony.
Twilight moaned slightly but continued to stay unconscious.
Star Swirl breathed a sigh of relief, though not knowing why. He didn’t know what to think of this out of control situation. Should he be scared? Afraid? Panicking? Confused? Cautious?
Thoughts whirled around his head. What did it mean that this pony had the wings of a pegasus and the horn of a unicorn? Was this a new creature to Equestria? No… she certainly seemed comfortable enough around ponies and she could certainly speak the language. Besides, it was most likely something else, she looked pony enough. A bit of a ditz though, but mostly harmless…
Star Swirl sank to his haunches, calming down as he thought about it. He could feel his nerves returning as he rationalised the situation.
She’s still a pony and nice enough, he thought to himself. It’s not as if she’s a manticore in disguise.
He watched the unicorn/pegasus hybrid take a breath.
Another thought struck Star Swirl.
She must be all alone. The only one of her kind in this world, he thought morosely. His hoof reached out, but stopped inches from her muzzle. He drew it back. Whether she was a freak accident, a failed magical mishap or some sort of mutated hybrid, Star Swirl didn’t know. All he did know was that she needed help.
“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered and then levitated her gently in his telekinetic field.
—————
Twilight awoke feeling a multitude of aches and pain. There was a deep and dull throbbing emanating from her cranium. She supposed that was a combination of the pail and the large stick of the panicking filly in the forest. She frowned, realising that her head was not the only thing in pain. The next pain were from her wings, they were cramped and sore from how she had slept on them. As a unicorn she had gotten used to sleeping on her back and unless she splayed her wings out in a certain way—like Fluttershy had taught her—then she would end up with all manner of aches and stiffness. She sighed. Well, what’s done was done, best concentrate on the here and now. She was suddenly aware of the feeling of warmth all around her.
For a moment, Twilight luxuriated in the sensation of blankets around her. The cloth was made of rough cotton and the bed was a little hard and lumpy, but what mattered to Twilight the most was the little things. Like being warm. She snuggled in the covers, yawned silently and shifted herself so she would be sleeping on her side with wings on her back tucked in.
As her eyes were just about to drift close, she wondered where that faint moist breeze was coming from.
Then her eyes shot open.
“AHH!”
Twilight shot out of bed, tumbling to the floor and pulling the bed sheet free with her.
There was a furious scrambling, mostly by Twilight and then a drooping head peeked over the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes with his hooves.
“What? Huh? What?! Oh, you’re awake.”
“Mmph! Mm! Pffwah!” Twilight spat the sheet from her mouth.
“You’re going to have to clean that,” Star Swirl commented mildly.
“What?” Twilight shot back. “Why are you in my bed?”
“Actually, it’s my bed and there wasn’t another place I could sleep,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. The unicorn slid out of the bed and started stretching.
Twilight watched him with a tinge of exasperation. Yes of course, after the era of romantic conservatism there had been a big push for modesty and propriety in Equestria. Clothes were big back then and beds were only shared if ponies were married or of the same sex. Fortunately, the clothing thing died out and there wasn’t many ponies continuing that tradition, though some still wore clothing for fun or fashion. It was still popular among the higher class socialites of Canterlot. Bed etiquette was still in full force. Twilight had to remind herself once again that she was in a different time.
“Of course,” she said, straightening up and untangling herself from the bed sheets. Just act as if that was normal. “Thank you for taking care of me. I’m… not used to using my hooves.”
Star Swirl stared at her for a moment. Then he realised she was referred to the bathroom. He rolled his eyes. “What are you? A princess? It was just a pail of water. Sometimes you have to know how to do things without magic, in case you run into limitations when you’re without your horn.”
Twilight nodded slowly, but didn’t say anything further. Anything she said would be incriminating.
“Well, since you were unconscious” —Twilight blushed at that— “we still have leftover stew and I’m hungry!” Star Swirl declared. With a beckoning hoof, he all but charged across the room and slammed open the door. He seemed a mite more flustered than normal, but all Twilight could do was shake her head at his slightly brusque behaviour and trail after the supposedly legendary magician.
Twilight stumbled into the kitchen with a yawn. The bombastic unicorn had busied himself with reheating the stew in the kitchen and Twilight cast around, trying to see what she could do. Twice, she tried approaching Star Swirl. Apart from a muttered 'I've got it, worry not, have a seat.’, Twilight didn't receive a definitive set of instructions to follow. She could help with something, surely. After the rather surly rebuff, Twilight noticed a chair set ajar from the table, as if beckoning, and supposed that she was to sit there. Belatedly, she did.
Within minutes, the unicorn came back, smelling faintly of stew and smoking pine needles. “Sorry about that, the fire died down overnight. I left the dampener on.” The unicorn deposited the two bowls of stew he was levitating onto the table. The aroma of vegetable broth made its way across and made Twilight very acutely aware that she hadn’t had anything to eat since leaving her own time.
Time…
Time was the problem here. Without the singularity, Twilight was effectively trapped in the past, with consequences growing by the second. Various thoughts flittered through her mind. Paradoxes, conundrums, the exponential effect of her actions changing the future… Her experience with time travel had been limited and not the most pleasant, considering. Now the effect on the past could be catastrophic and if the unicorn was who he said he was…
There was no question, she had to get back to the mud puddle and find her saddlebags. If she didn’t, then there was no telling how history could be changed!
“Are you going to eat that, or just stare at the wall the whole day?”
With a start, Twilight’s eyes twitched down at the delectable broth and back to the unicorn. She’d successfully distracted herself from her baser needs by contemplating problems with time, space and magic. Her body however, now having gotten her attention, was not letting go so easily.
A light growl filled the room.
“You better listen to it,” Star Swirl commented shrewdly, an impish smirk flittering around the corners of his mouth.
Cheeks flaming, Twilight gave in to the two-pronged attack and greedily spooned in the meal. Pleasantly surprised, Twilight realised that the vegetable broth was simply amazing. Salts and spices, herbs and fresh vegetables combined in a heavenly mix of mouth-pleasuring sensations that seemed improbable in its existence. The carrots were firm but yielding, the cabbage was sweet and soft, the potatoes were… well she couldn’t really think of anymore adjectives, but the soup was mind numbingly good!
“H-How?” was all Twilight could say between mouthfuls as she all but breathed in the soup.
Star Swirl cocked his head and and gave her a wry smile.
“I cooked it,” he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Twilight merely blinked at him and then chuckled. She glanced down at the bowl and felt her ears wilt at the sight of an empty dish.
“Uhm…” she started.
Star Swirl raised a hoof, his expression growing grave.
“I want to talk about those,” he said, gesturing behind her.
Twilight twisted around.
“The wall?” she queried.
Star Swirl shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“No I meant those,” he said, making flapping motions with his hooves.
Comprehension dawned on the alicorn. Reflexively, her wings spread out.
Star Swirl gasped.
“You can move them?” he babbled. “Can you fly with them?”
Twilight paused briefly and could only nod numbly. This was really starting to complicate matters.
“That’s amazing! You’re like a pegasus and a unicorn mashed together. How does that work?!”
“Uhh…”
“Never mind,” he said hastily. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s not my business to pry into yours.”
Twilight stroked a nervous hoof along Star Swirl’s table.
“Sorry,” she said. “I just– It’s complicated.”
Star Swirl nodded. “It’s fine, really!” There was a pause. “So, what are you going to do today?”
Twilight twitched, her ears stiffening with worry.
“I have to go back and find my saddlebags!” she exclaimed, bounding away from the table almost explosively.
“Hold on, wait!”
But Twilight was beyond hearing Star Swirl. She was vaguely aware of him stumbling over a chair to get to the door and Twilight was gratified to see her magic had mostly been restored.
“Hey Twilight, stop!”
Telekinesis was definitely coming back. The door opened. Twilight trotted out.
There was a beautiful, clear sky. The sky was framed by blossoming flowers nestled between emerald leaves and rustic brown of tangled branches interweaving the natural tapestry around her… That was probably not the most defining feature of the woods. What really caught Twilight’s attention were two unicorns in heavy plated armour with spears levelled at her face.
Dimly, Twilight was aware of Star Swirl stumbling out of the cottage behind her.
“Star Swirl…”
“Hrm, yes?” Twilight could see the stallion at the edge of her periphery. She didn’t want to make any sudden moves.
“We have company,” she said.
Star Swirl coughed apologetically. “Yes,” he said. “They appear to be pointing something at us.”
“I’d wager they would be spears.”
“It appears so.”
They both lapsed into silence.
Twilight’s mouth twisted into a pout. “So, are they going to tell us to do something, or are they going to keep pointing spears at us?” She glared at the two guards.
Star Swirl leaned in closer to Twilight.
“I don’t think you should antagonise them, they look… very professional.” His statement was emphasised by a nonchalant wave of one of the spears from the guard on the left. The stallion smirked, his eyes challenging either of them to do something brash. Twilight subsided, conceding that although she could probably teleport them both out of there in a few seconds, she didn’t want to pit her ability to calculate, concentrate and cast before a spear punctured her lung. She decided to wait and observe. Looking at Star Swirl and his more relaxed posture, it seemed like he thought the same.
They didn’t have to wait too long. Within moments, the bushes in front of them rustled and two more unicorn soldiers appeared and a unicorn mare with a deep sapphire coloured mane and a stark white coat appeared. The mare stepped forward, daintily placing her hooves on the ground before her and wearing a drawn expression, as if she had a kingdom to run and this was the last place she wanted to be.
“As always, young Star Swirl, your cottage is an inconvenience to get to,” she spoke icily, glaring at him. Judging from Star Swirl’s widening eyes and hasty bow, Twilight could see that Star Swirl knew this mare, and that she was evidently a very important pony.
Belatedly, Twilight bowed and the unicorn’s eyes flickered over to Twilight, as if she just noticed that Twilight was there. She took in Twilight’s horn and her wings, then turned back to Star Swirl, ignoring Twilight. Twilight’s mouth twitched in annoyance, but she clamped down on it.
“Star Swirl, I need your services immediately,” she commanded imperiously. “There’s something happening at the castle.”
Star Swirl dipped his head softly, but his eyes came up hard. His demeanour changed immediately. Instead of being cautious and warily respectful, Star Swirl stiffened and shifted his posture to be more on guard. It was clear that he viewed the mare with suspicion bordering upon open hostility.
“May I ask, under what circumstances, Lady Lily?”
Lady Lily raised an eyebrow. Twilight could tell that she wasn’t used to explaining herself.
“It is none of your concern,” she said dismissively.
Star Swirl snorted. “Then it is none of mine.” He started back to his cottage, waving at Twilight to follow along. He didn’t get far however, they were both blocked by two guards dashing forward and levelling their spears. Slowly, they both turned around.
“This is not a request,” Lady Lily stated with a flick of her mane.
Star Swirl shook his head.
“Lady Lily, you are new to this, so I’m going to give you one chance to trot away from this.”
The mare inspected her hoof and then cocked her head. “Or what?” she said.
Star Swirl sighed. “Or I’m going to forget to tie a ribbon on a pigeon.”
Lady Lily looked just as confused as Twilight.
“And what, pray tell, will that do?”
Star Swirl hummed to himself. “Oh I guess it would make the pigeon handler worried.”
“Pigeon handler?”
“Hmm, oh and I suppose the messenger as well. She would be expecting it too.”
“Messenger?”
“Yes the messenger. For the King.”
Lady Lily straightened almost imperceptibly.
“You’re bluffing,” she stammered. “You’re not close with the King.”
Star Swirl was expressionless. “You’re right,” he said.
Lady Lily grabbed onto the lifeline with iron-shod hooves.
“Ha! I kne—“
“I’m closer to his daughter, Princess Platinum.”
Lady Lily cut herself off abruptly, her hesitancy returning with a vengeance.
Star Swirl took his time to inspect his own hooves.
“So you see,” he muttered. “You’ll need a lot more clout than your personal guards to ask me for anything.” He glared at her. “I bid you a good morning.” With that, he turned tail, pushing past the guards roughly. Twilight followed after a moment’s hesitation, casting one last look at Lady Lily’s stricken face. Twilight was somewhere between shock and awe, it was like Star Swirl was a completely different pony.
Still, a thought niggled in her mind.
The alicorn whispered in Star Swirl’s ear as they slowly crossed the threshold into his cottage, “Is it alright to just leave her like that? I don’t really like her attitude but it seems like she needs help.”
Star Swirl looked like he bit a lemon.
“No,” he growled. “Everypony from the castle needs some help, and none of it is for a good reason.” He slammed the door. “It’s always about them, them, them!” He weaved his way to the table, rearranging his bowl of vegetable broth.
Twilight glanced back at the door.
A muffled voice filtered through.
“Please,” Lady Lily cried. “Just for a few days!”
“Ignore it,” he muttered, picking up Twilight’s bowl and heading to the kitchen.
Twilight stood frozen at the door. On one hoof she really wanted to reclaim her saddlebags. On the other hoof, she found it hard to turn anypony away when they were begging for her help.
She made a decision.
“I’m going to help her,” she said firmly, ignoring Star Swirl’s surprised expression. She dipped her head. “Thank you for helping me,” she continued, heading to the door once more. “I would still be stuck in the mud if it weren’t for you.”
Twilight reached for the door knob.
“Wait.”
Twilight paused.
“Alright, alright, you win. I’ll help. I swear to the Stars if this is some petty court manoeuvre…”
Twilight turned her head away to hide her grin.
“I didn’t expect you to come,” she replied mildly.
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. Wait, before you head out again, you’ll need this.” Twilight could hear the clatter of hooves and a quick rummaging around the house.
Curious, Twilight turned just in time to get a face full of… some sort of cloth.
“Wh– Wha?!” Twilight whipped the material out of her face to reveal a deep emerald cloak. “What’s this?”
Star Swirl looked at Twilight as if she were daft.
“To hide your…” He gestured to her wings as he trailed off.
“Oh,” she replied sheepishly. Twilight hastily flung the coat over her flank. Instantly she felt the tingle of magic work its way through her body.
“It’s a Cloak of Disguise?!” Twilight exclaimed.
Star Swirl nodded, pleased with himself. “I received it as a gift from the Princess. Now, let’s be off.”
Twilight followed the unicorn, wondering what other kinds of secrets the mage held.
Ah well, she thought. I’ll find out sooner or later.
Twilight shrugged on the coat and opened the door. Quickly, she dodged the hoof just as it were about to crash into the wooden portal. Not expecting the lack of resistance, Lady Lily overshot and almost collapsed on the floor beside Twilight.
The noblemare shot Twilight a seething glare that could have melted steel.
“How dare— Wait, who are you?”
Twilight opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted when Star Swirl popped up beside her.
“Clover!” he exclaimed, pushing his way to the front. “And you better be thankful to her, she changed my mind.”
Lady Lily looked like she had a lot to say about the sudden turnaround. She looked like she had a dozen questions about Twilight, but she visibly stifled them. Evidently there was something more important to her than her curiosity.
“Star Swirl,” she said with a mite more deference than moments ago. “I require your assistance.”
Though he had told Twilight he had resolved to help her, his reluctant stance underscored his apprehension. Lady Lily hurried on, perhaps in fear of losing his support once again.
“It’s our family,” she began.
Star Swirl rolled his eyes.
“Oh here we go again,” he muttered. He made to turn around, but Twilight’s hoof shot out, blocking Star Swirl’s retreat.
“Let’s hear her out,” Twilight said, fixing him with a stare. “Don’t judge too quickly.”
Lady Lily glanced at Twilight briefly, giving her a shallow nod in gratitude.
“Please Star Swirl, there’s trouble in the family, it’s about Aurum.”
“The wimpy unapt?” Star Swirl raised an eyebrow.
Lady Lily frowned. “You shouldn’t talk about my brother like that.”
Twilight blinked. “I fail to see what the problem is.”
The noblemare gestured to one of her guards. A severe looking stallion withdrew a laced handkerchief from a recess in his breastplate and placed it on her outstretched hoof. Lady Lily dabbed at her forehead lightly and sighed dramatically.
“Well you see Aurum is the heir to our estate…” Lady Lily trailed off, glancing meaningfully at Star Swirl. Twilight glanced between them.
“And that’s a problem because…?” Twilight prompted, feeling more and more confused by the moment.
“Have you been living under a rock?” Lady Lily sniffed. “The estate cannot be inherited by me.”
Twilight shrugged. “Why not?”
Lady Lily’s nostrils flared. She pressed her lips so tight together, Twilight was afraid they’d just fall off altogether. She looked like she wanted to say a lot of choice words, but instead she took a deep breath and addressed Twilight directly for the first time in the conversation.
“Because, ignorant one, I am not a direct descendent.”
Twilight frowned. “But you said you were siblings—“
“—Half-siblings,” she muttered, looking away. “Half.”
It took a few moments for the implications to sink in for Twilight, but when they did, she had to consciously school her features. A quick glance, Star Swirl’s way confirmed that he already knew this fact. Twilight gulped, hoping that the sound wasn’t audible.
Star Swirl frowned. “Are you suggesting that I somehow make your brother worthy of being a successor?” His face darkened. “I don’t see how this requires my specific help.”
Lady Lily gaped at Star Swirl. “Surely you know something,” she spluttered. “You’re a Court magician! I saw you performing for the Court!”
Star Swirl sighed, suddenly, he looked much older than he was. “That was some time ago. I don’t want to be caught up in the same trappings again. I came out here to be left alone with some peace and solitude. Somewhere away from the castle.” He pursed his lips as his brows drew together in thought. “There are other Court magicians you can rely on, why don’t you ask them?”
Lady Lily bit her lip. “I can’t.”
“What?”
“I can’t,” she repeated. “I– I just can’t.”
“Star Swirl,” Twilight said gently. “Step back a bit.”
Though venting a snort, Star Swirl reluctantly stepped back and gave Twilight a cautious nod.
Twilight addressed Lady Lily gently.
“Why don’t you tell me about it?” Twilight spoke in a low voice.
The unicorn bit her lip again. “It’s complicated. I can’t take control of the estate.”
Twilight nodded. “Why don’t you explain it best you can and we’ll see if we can help you out?”
Lady Lily glanced around herself and then confided in Twilight, her mouth scant inches from her ears.
“I’m… I’m not pure of blood.”
Twilight blinked at Lady Lily. “What?”
The mare flushed a deep red. “I’m part-Earth, okay? Now can you see?”
Twilight frowned. “I… Wait, let me speak to Star Swirl.”
Star Swirl was looking into the distance with a brooding expression. As Twilight neared, he turned around and appraised her for a moment before addressing her.
“So? What did she say?”
Twilight hesitated. “She said that she wasn’t of pure blood.”
Star Swirl grunted, his eyebrows drawing close and coupled together with a fearsome frown. Twilight waited patiently as the unicorn paced around a few steps.
“Alright,” he said finally. “I will help her.”
Twilight smiled.
“That’s great. Are you going to teach her brother?”
Star Swirl chuckled. “Him? No a chance. Our dear Lady Lily will be the successor.”
Twilight watched the interesting double-take as Lady Lily nodded, only to stare at Star Swirl with her mouth open. Twilight burned the image to her mind, she had a feeling that it would be something good to laugh at later on.
“No, wait, I’ve told you the reason why I cannot succeed the estate!” she cried.
Star Swirl shook his head impatiently.
“Don’t care,” he replied, then he turned to Twilight.
“So, does that satisfy you?” he said.
If Star Swirl was surprised by the genial nod that Twilight gave back to him, he didn’t show it.
“Alright,” he said. “That settles it. Let’s go to your estate, and we’ll begin immediately.”
“Wha— No! You must teach Paddy!”
Star Swirl raised an eyebrow. “There’s no ‘must’ with me. Be grateful I’m helping you at all!” Star Swirl shouldered past the confused guards, leaving Lady Lily spluttering by herself. She watched as Twilight gave her a cross between a bow and a nod, then she followed Star Swirl.
Twilight grinned, as she set out in Star Swirl’s hoof steps.
This is great, she thought. I think this will work out.
“Hey, can somepony tell me where we’re going?” Star Swirl called back.
Then again with Star Swirl, maybe not.
————
On the way to Lady Lily’s estate, Twilight picked up her pace to walk side-by-side to Star Swirl.
“How far is it to her estate?”
Star Swirl pursed his lips, then pointed behind himself. “Lady Lily tells me it is somewhere between the capital and Lookout ridge. That puts us about a half a day away.” He shrugged. “Pretty close on hoof.”
Twilight gaped at the nonchalant unicorn. Half a day?! He said it so casually!
“That’s… that’s twelve hours! How are we supposed to trot that far?!” Twilight bit her lip. “Can’t we just teleport?”
Star Swirl frowned at her.
“What’s a ‘teleport’?”
Twilight started guiltily. “Uhh…” Should she reveal that piece of knowledge? What would be the effect of that on the timeline? She shook her head. “Never mind,” she said. “It’s… something from where I came from.” She groaned, thinking about all the conveniences she was used to in modern Equestria. “Let’s get going,” she muttered, going into a light canter. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get back to my saddlebags.” The bags would be ruined, no doubt, and they were new ones! At least the Stitch In Time would protect its contents, it was designed to hold back a temporal singularity at the very least. Otherwise, its contents would be beyond dangerous…
————
Pegasi swarmed the area, thrashing the foliage with hoof-held spears and combing the area with keen eyes.
“C-Commander Hurricane!”
The stoutly built mare turned her head slowly to greet her subordinate. Though not lacking in physical prowess, this soldier was lacking in attitude and mental fortitude.
“What is it, Private Pansy?”
At the Commander’s growl, Private Pansy nervously shifted on her hooves, a fact that Hurricane found detestable.
Pansy forged ahead, knowing that the Commander disliked hesitation even more.
“W-We’ve found something in the mud pool.”
The Commander finally noticed that Pansy was covered head to hoof with mud. They were all grimy with the recent raid on the earth settlements, so the extra layer of mud barely registered among all the filth. She nodded approvingly though, grit built character, and you can never have too much of that.
“Show me,” Hurricane ordered imperiously.
Pansy dragged forward an unrecognisable lump. At first she thought that Pansy had brought forth some useless pile of junk, but upon closer inspection there was a splotch of out-of-place purple among the brown. Reaching forward, Hurricane wiped the mud away to reveal an unfamiliar crest. A twelve-pointed magenta star surrounded by five other six-pointed stars.
“Saddlebags,” Hurricane rumbled. She quickly flipped over the covers to reveal the contents of the bag. “Books, writing implements, a scholar, huh? What’s this—“ With an ear-splitting crack and a loud retort, Hurricane whiplashed her hoof from the bag and yelled a few curse words that shouldn’t bear repeating.
“Unicorn magic,” Hurricane hissed through clenched teeth. “I’ll bet my wings on it.”
Pansy glanced around, as if expecting unicorns to leap from the bushes themselves.
“Shall we dispose of it, ma’am?”
Commander Hurricane waved a dismissive hoof.
“No,” she growled. “This must be an important artefact if the unicorns went to such lengths to protect it. Wrap it up in its own saddlecloth and clean it out. We’re taking it back home.”
Pansy hesitated, afraid to touch the bag that had made the tough Commander swear so rudely. She stared at the bag as if it were going to leap at her and devour her alive.
“My hooves feel like they’re made of bruises.” Twilight gingerly placed her left fore hoof on the ground. That one seemed to go first. She wondered if there was any point in deciding the order for which her hooves should go. The entire experience was rather painful already. No need to add the complication of hoof placement to an otherwise mountainous hill of frustration. The frustration was mainly centred on herself, because she was quite sure almost all her friends would be able to make that distance. Probably even Rarity, but with a little more lip.
“You sound like you’ve never trotted before,” Star Swirl muttered.
Twilight’s mouth pulled into an annoyed frown. “I trot, all the time.” Twilight glanced back at the grinning unicorn. She was determined to prove the smug stallion wrong. “I can run and pace myself, but this is ridiculous. The distance is like going from Ponyville to Canterlot on hoof!”
Star Swirl swivelled around to face Twilight. His eyes drew upwards as he mumbled a few things. Shaking his head, he regarded Twilight quizzically. “I’ve never heard of these places.” He frowned. “But you don’t sound like a traveller…” he smacked a hoof to his head. “But of course! Your win—” The unicorn cut himself off before he could say ‘wings’.
Twilight nodded vigorously, leaping onto the opportunity like Spike on gems. Ah yes, wouldn’t do to let slip that she normally caught the train. They definitely didn’t have trains in the pre-classical era.
“Yes,” Twilight replied in a low voice. “I’ve been around… out of Equestria.”
Star Swirl pursed his lips. “Equestria?” he asked.
Twilight mentally kicked herself again. She was horrible at lying. Might as well be Applejack. “The kingdom,” she said quickly. “Kingdom.”
Despite her reasonable assurances, Star Swirl did not look convinced.
“You don’t have to hide it,” Star Swirl replied mildly. “I know what you’re hiding.”
Twilight bit her lip. Oh dear Celestia, he knew! “I-I wasn’t trying to hide it,” Twilight stammered. “It’s not like I enjoy lying… it’s just that…”
Star Swirl’s expression turned uncharacteristically sympathetic. “I know,” he replied. “These are strange times we live in. Pony against pony, court politics over populace.” His bitter gaze wandered among the trees, before snapping back. “It’s why I left in the first place. Then she wouldn’t have—” he bit off the words before they could be aired. Twilight couldn’t prevent her eyes widening fractionally at the hidden pain beneath the impish veil that usually curtained his expression.
Before she might have felt bad about dragging him along, but now she felt horrible. “I knew you didn’t like it,” Twilight said quietly. “But I didn’t know you…” Twilight hesitated as she searched for the words to express her sentiments. “I… If you don’t want to come along now, you don’t have to.” Twilight sighed. “And now you know where I’m from.”
Star Swirl shook his head. “I gave you and the ‘Lovely’ Lady Lily back there a promise. I don’t like it, but I always keep my promises. As for you, just because you’re not from these parts doesn’t mean I’ll abandon you for it.” He sucked his teeth and fell silent for a while. “Besides, I rather enjoy your company.”
Twilight was so shocked she stopped briefly, and had to run ahead at a brisk canter to catch up again.
“What?” Star Swirl said as she came alongside him again. “Never had a stallion tell you he likes you?”
Twilight blushed more than she was comfortable with. In fact, she blushed more than she thought any pony could possibly do in a day. “N-No,” she babbled back. “N-Not really.”
An interminable look shadowed Star Swirl’s gaze for a moment before he returned it to the road. “Ah,” he said. “Sorry.”
“What for?” Twilight replied.
Star Swirl gave her that look again. “I guess… for nothing.” He cleared his throat. “Well, besides being from somewhere further than the Kingdom’s borders, you’ve got some memorable physical features. You’re going to be out of place in Lady Lily’s local barony, and let’s not get started on the Royal Courts. I guess I should teach you some Etiquette.”
Judging from his unimpressed expression, Twilight didn’t think her winning smile was encouraging him.
“Oh come on,” Twilight growled. “Despite what I look like, I’ve had some experience in Royal Courts before. How hard can it be?”
Star Swirl shook his head, muttering to himself. “Don’t say that. Never say that,” he groaned.
