A crossover between what is and what could have been.
Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns is out for a summer break. To keep her studies in check, and to keep herself busy while staying in from the rain, Twilight decides to do some light summer reading.
Now Twilight has to help eleven girls in the cosmos contain something that threatens to collapse the universe back into nothingness.
Things could've gone better.
Preread by flyer (not on Fimfiction).
Dedicated to Lauren Faust, who originally pitched her Milky Way and the Galaxy Girls to Hasbro before being asked instead to retool My Little Pony -- which became Friendship is Magic, the show we all know and love today.
The class silently looked towards one another, almost daring each other to raise a hoof. Several hind hooves were twitching, a few about to lunge to the door. Many horns were lit up, anticipating a spell. Surely nopony wanted to get let out later than right this minute.
“Very well!” Professor Top Marks set his chalk down. “Class is dismissed for the summer.”
One had seldom ever seen so many teleportation spells being cast at once – in the blink of an eye, half the class vanished in flashes of color, and the other half simply squeezed past each other out the door. Well, one violet unicorn waited patiently, calmly packing up her supplies, and by the time she was done her peers had disappeared down the hall.
“Twilight Sparkle.”
She turned back to face Top Marks. “Yes, Professor?”
The normally stoic professor smiled, faintly yet warmly, at her. “I would like to congratulate you on another excellent semester. Perfect marks across the board. If you ask me, you, more than anypony else, have earned this break. Have a grand summer.”
“Thanks, Professor!” In high spirits, she pranced out the door. Top Marks simply turned back to the board and started erasing it – for the last time for a few months. Surely, he thought, Twilight would impress me next semester.
For most students, summer meant freedom – spending a night on the town, heading to the beach, anything but academics. Plus, tomorrow was the Summer Sun Celebration – not only that, but it would be the one thousandth such Celebration, and a small town in the Everfree Basin named Ponyville would have the honor of receiving Princess Celestia this year.
Twilight, however, was not most students. She cared nothing for outings with friends, instead preferring to stick with her studies – but with the freedom of choosing what she studied, as Princess Celestia’s protégé. For her, that was enough. She would, however, be attending the Summer Sun Celebration – she’d be a fool not to. Besides, she thought, that would be the worst way to let down my mentor.
Spike was waiting outside the school doors, watching other ponies disappear down the road. He spotted Twilight just leaving the building. “Final grade?”
“A+, as usual!” Twilight was beaming with pride, even though for her this was routine.
“Nice job. . . .” Then to himself, “Nothing an all-nighter can’t solve, right?”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “C’mon – we’ll head to the bookstore. I’m thinking about treating myself.”
Spike groaned. “Really? Fresh out of school and you’re still thinking about studying?”
“Just because it’s summer doesn’t mean I can slack off,” Twilight responded. “You know that by now.”
“C’mon, Twilight, just try! It wouldn’t kill you to – huh?” Spike spotted something shiny on the ground. He stopped to look closer. It was a fragment of some geometric solid he couldn’t remember the name of, seemingly carved from stone. Something about it compelled him to pick it up, so he did – and as he stood back up, he almost bumped into Twinkleshine and Lemon Hearts chatting with one another on their way to parts unknown. “’Scuse me.”
They just giggled and let him by. “Moondancer said she’s throwing a party in the courtyard for her class to attend tomorrow,” Lemon Hearts said. “You down?”
“Oh, totally. It’s about time she learned to unplug from her books. . . .”
Hmm, he thought. That’s a first. Maybe I should get her something, convince Twilight to attend – some socialization would do both of them some good. . . .
“You were saying, Spike?” Twilight turned her head just as Spike caught up.
“Hey Twilight, mind if we split up?” he asked. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to get.”
“Spike, please.” Twilight pulled him closer with a bit of magic. “Canterlot’s a big city, certainly no place for a baby dragon like you. Now come on, maybe you’ll find something you’d like at the bookstore.”
“Ugh, fine.” It would have to wait until tomorrow. It’d be a bit close, but he was confident he could pull it off. It’d take quite a bit of planning beforehand, perhaps a bit of sneaking.
Twilight, on the other hoof, kept thinking about what to read up on as she stayed the course to the bookstore. She long lost count on what subjects she studied, both assigned and of her volition, but surely there was something she missed that they had – this of course depended on what they had in stock.
☆
The nonfiction section was freshly stocked when she arrived. Just in time for summer! she thought. She decided to peruse and choose from the first shelf. Perfection: The Impossible Pursuit? Nah, already checked out from the library. History of Equestria: Twelfth Edition? They’d put out a new edition just for one sentence. Not worth it. Then she spotted The Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide. Hmm. . . . Twilight pondered if she should grab this specific book. It had all the hallmarks of a high fantasy work, but it was shelved here in nonfiction. Curious. . . .
In any case, it wasn’t something she had ever seen before – so why not? She grabbed it and went to the counter to pay. “Find anything?” she asked Spike.
“Nah.” He shook his head. “Same drivel, new binding.”
Twilight held up The Elements of Harmony. “I bet you otherwise.”
Spike rolled his eyes, but shut his mouth. Perhaps she was right.
“Good afternoon, Twilight,” the clerk greeted. “Found something that caught your eye, did you?”
Twilight nervously chuckled. “Well, it’s the end of the semester. Thought I’d grab a little summer reading.”
“Ever the scholar!” He rang up Twilight’s purchase. “That’ll be ten bits.”
For a book that thick, it was a fair bargain. She counted them out and set them on the counter.
“Have a nice day!” The clerk waved her goodbye.
“Thank you, I will!” Twilight trotted away, slipping her newly-bought book into her saddlebags, and out the shop.
“Twilight Sparkle, studying even during summer,” the clerk said to himself. “Some things never change.”
It was when she stepped out of the shop that Twilight noticed that the sky had clouded over considerably while she was browsing. “Uh, Spike?” she asked. “Do you remember what the weather schedule said for this week?”
“Yeah, it’s supposed to rain this afternoon. Why?”
Twilight groaned. “Of course it would. Let’s just hurry back to the dorm before it comes down.” Naturally, after cramming for a fortnight, she had forgotten her plan to start her summer after the last day of school. Oh well, she thought, I could kill the rest of the day with a good book. “We’d better hurry back to our dorm,” she told Spike. “Let’s go!”
The bookstore was not far from the dorm, and Twilight and Spike managed to snake up the spiral staircase and make it to the door of their room right as the first drops of rain started falling on her head. Once they had gotten inside, she checked her saddlebags to see if any water had seeped in. No water damage. Good. “Phew!”
“Not one for the rain are you?” Spike quipped. After she shot a glare back, he followed up with “Right, right, new book and all that. Why don’t you cozy up on the couch or something, while I get us some lunch?” On his way into the kitchen, he tossed the object he found onto a table.
Twilight looked at it. “What’s that for, Spike?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. Found it on the way to the bookstore. You can have it, I don’t care.”
Her horn lit up, and she brought the piece to her eye. It was dark-gray, flat, and carved into a pentagonal shape. One side was blank, the other had an equine head engraved into it. Other than that, it was fairly unremarkable – it certainly didn’t look like any bit she’d ever seen.
“Thanks,” she told Spike. She went up to her bedroom, laid down on her bed, set the object and flipped her new book open to the table of contents.
It was a curious collection of both fairy tales and more encyclopedic entries. She found “A Treatise on Cockatrices” sandwiched between “Star-Swirl the Bearded and the Everfree Garden” and “When the First Words Were Stamped in Mud.” What mad pony would collect these specific things into one book? she wondered. And why? What makes these so significant?
Then in the middle of the table, she noted something called “Milky Way and the Galaxy Girls.” Twilight racked her brains. Between her exhaustive academic research since her youth and the literature that Princess Celestia “forced” her to read, she couldn’t recall anything even faintly resembling something like this. “Milky Way” implied a more serious discussion of the cosmos, but Twilight’s gut told her that this was more of that frilly frou-frou nonsense masquerading as high-class fiction. Eh, why not? Nothing else on the table caught her eye, so she flipped to page 313 – and was surprised to see it barren, save for just a simple poëm. Reflexively, she started reading it aloud:
A flurry of stars, assembling here For when the daily night draws near: Eleven girls, each one a peer To one another, soon appear. One brave, adventurous with cheer, One boasting bright, one often blear, One swift, one prim, one without fear, One with her pets, one’s beat they hear, One well-read, one not so austere, And one composing song in drear.
“Hmm. . . .” Twilight looked at it more closely; surely she was missing something. But what? Does the poëm simply end here? Or is this a misprint? And who are these eleven girls? Why do they come out only at night? I have so many questions. . . . Then she looked up from the page, seeking answers to these and more questions – and what she saw made her stop.
Time had apparently stopped when Twilight spoke those words. Carefully she got out of her bed, breathing short, and looked around. No motions to speak of. No sounds to speak of. She peeked downstairs in the kitchen – Spike was frozen in place as he was about to finish making a daisy sandwich for her.
She trotted up behind him and waved a hoof in front of her eyes. Then she tapped his shoulder. No reaction in either case. “Curiouser and curiouser,” she said aloud. Spike apparently didn’t hear her.
Then Twilight realized something. Did it just get darker in here? She checked out the kitchen window – and her jaw dropped. Not only was it not raining, night had fallen in the space of a minute. Is Princess Celestia playing tricks on me?
In a panic, she rushed back upstairs to her book, scouring the page and the previous and next twenty, looking for answers, solutions, warnings, anything. Nothing.
She picked up the object from her bedside table, giving it another, more careful once-over. Still nothing remarkable about it, but now she thought perhaps there were others like it. Would make sense. . . who in their right mind would make only one of these?
In her ears, she heard a gentle hiss surrounding her, as though something was dissolving. She looked up just in time to watch as the color started draining from her surroundings. Then the grays. Then white.
In the intervening darkness, Twilight felt herself blink. Once. Twice. Her heart was beating in her ears. She felt nothing surrounding her. She tried to scream, but no sound came out.
At some point, Twilight noticed she had stopped falling. She had trouble standing up on her hooves – namely, she couldn’t quite tell where the ground was. Then she saw – there was no ground. She was floating, adrift in space, with not a soul to see anywhere. Panic immediately set in – no air, no air pressure, no sound! She was as good as dead!
And yet she was not. Twilight had to remind herself that she was still breathing some sort of otherwise intangible aether; she was not about to suffocate anytime soon. She breathed out a sigh of relief – and she could hear it. Not just through her jawbone, but in her ears.
“Okay,” she told herself, “stay calm. You know perfectly well how to cast teleportation spells, so it’s just a matter of figuring out where you need to go.” A point B to go with this point A. In her head, she started visualizing her dorm room – and once she got a good enough spot by her bedside, she lit up her horn and cast a teleportation spell.
It did not work. She reappeared in the exact same spot as before. She tried the dorm kitchen, the School campus, the bookshop, none of them working. Like it or not, she was stuck here, stuck floating freely in the cosmos alone.
But perhaps she wasn’t alone. She felt a small something bump into the frog of her left hind hoof. When she looked, she saw that the object Spike had found in Canterlot had somehow been ‘brought’ with her to wherever this place was. It was a very small object, easily lost, so before she could lose it again, she cast a ballantine spell on it, keeping it firmly attached to her side. Perfect, she thought. That’s not going anywhere anytime soon. She then shrugged. “Now, while I’m here, might as well look ov – wait. Where. . . .”
She looked in front of her, squinting to see in the darkness. She turned her head this way and that, but couldn’t find anything resembling what she was looking for. The book was missing. Evidently, unlike the object, it had not traveled with her.
That was when Twilight truly started to despair. “Oh no. . . oh no no no!” Alone, adrift in space, far away from her family, Spike, Princess Celestia, Canterlot, Equestria – and absolutely nothing to read in sight. What horror indeed!
Then out of nothing, something. Namely a sound of roller skates coming from. . . somewhere. It was hard to tell at first, but then she heard it coming up behind her. Once she figured out how to rotate herself around in a weightless ‘vacuum,’ she could see some strange-looking figure approaching her on what looked like some sort of pathway. What or who it – she? – was, nopony could say.
Then they made eye contact.
“Hello out there!” the being called out to Twilight. Definitely sounds like a filly. . . . “What are you doing all the way off the pathway? Oh!” She gasped. “Is that a pony?”
Before Twilight could muster an answer, she leapt off the ‘pathway,’ grabbed the unicorn, then hooked her boot on the edge of the pathway, letting her swing right back onto it. Twilight could finally feel her hooves touch sold ground. “Thanks. Um. . . .”
It was then that she decided to get a better look at her rescuer. She was tall, pale, and very skinny – dare she say, impossibly so, were she in an environment with actual gravity – with a navy shirt and skirt, studded with stars, including two star-shaped earrings, and star-shaped pupils to boot.
“Oh my word, it’s a unicorn!” she exclaimed. “And it can talk! I’ve never seen a talking unicorn before!” Clearly giddy, she started hopping from skate to skate. “Name’s Milky Way. What’s yours?”
“Twilight Sparkle. Listen – ”
“Well hello, Twilight!” Milky Way shook her hoof quite vigorously. “A pleasure making your acquaintance!”
Twilight looked around her. Nothing but empty space around her. “. . . what are you doing all the way out here?” she finally asked.
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” She knelt down to her, somehow without falling off her skates. “We don’t usually get horses out here, and certainly not unicorns, and certainly not the talking variety of either.”
Twilight put a hoof to her chin. “I don’t know, actually. I remember sitting down with a new book to read, I flipped it open to one particular page, and when I read it – gah, it’s just so crazy!”
“And it flung you out here, didn’t it?”
“How’d you guess?”
Milky Way put a finger to her chin. She then shook her head. “I can’t really think of another way how you could’ve gotten here.” She shrugged. “I guess it’s not really that important.”
Twilight laid down on the pathway. “Still not sure how it all works. . . .”
“Anywho. . . .” Milky Way was twirling a lock of hair in her fingers. “I was skating around this system – ’cause I like exploring the universe, don’t you know – and I was looking for, um. . . asteroids! That I collect.”
“Really?” Twilight was dumbstruck. “Collecting asteroids? What for?”
“Oh, no reason. Hey, you wanna come along? I could use the company!” Before Twilight could object, Milky Way scooped her up and, with a thrust of her skates, took off into parts unknown.
Twilight started looking around her, wide-eyed. “Where exactly are we going!?”
“Don’t worry, it’ll be fun. Just you wait and see!” Milky Way picked up her pace. All Twilight could do was look on as she skated on to. . . where? Twilight looked to her, but Milky didn’t notice. Instead of her stated excitement, her face looked more serious, with her starry eyes pointed dead ahead on her path. Does she look. . . worried? Twilight wondered. And about what?
Whatever it was, Twilight too was now worried herself. She held on even tighter to Milky Way, screaming as the two shot down the pathway at unbelievable speeds.
After a good five minutes or so of sheer terror for Twilight, Milky Way found a bench in Hubble Park and sat the pony down with her.
Twilight took a deep breath, relieved that she somehow survived. “So,” she began, “mind explaining what that was all about?”
Milky Way sighed. “Look,” she explained, “I wasn’t going to tell you, but the universe is in grave danger as we speak.”
“The galaxy?” Twilight peered around her. For the first time, now that she was on solid ground – could it be called that? – she was able to look around her and take in the sights of a vast and awesome universe. All around her were more stars than she could count – likely more than in Equestria’s night sky. “Woah. . . .”
Then she remembered something else. “Actually, I’ve been wondering,” she asked. “If we’re both out here, and neither of us have helmets, then. . . how are we breathing, exactly?”
Milky Way just waved her hand. “Eh, don’t worry about it. If you weren’t suffocating earlier, you won’t anytime soon. But listen!”
Twilight looked up at Milky Way.
“I. . . may have accidentally caused all of this. But I didn’t mean to! Honest!”
“Milky Way.” Twilight’s tone turned cold. “What exactly did you do?”
She sighed. “I may or may not have touched one planetoid that I shouldn’t have, which may or may not have contained this one super-evil being who may or may not now be trying to suck up everything in the universe into a vortex.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. Probably should’ve been a warning somewhere. “So, a black hole?”
“Yes! Black Hole!” Milky pointed at Twilight. “That’s exactly what he is – and if we don’t stop him quick, he’ll have the entire universe in his hands, concentrated into a single point. That means everything and everyone – and even you too, now that you’re here!”
Twilight smacked her face with her hoof. “Please tell me you didn’t just drag me into your wild goose chase.” She looked up to Milky Way with a sullen glare. “I really don’t have time for whatever you’re trying to do to solve your problem.”
“No, you’re unrelated to all this.” Milky patted Twilight’s head. “As for what I’m doing, I’m not exactly collecting asteroids so much as I’m collecting fragments of the planetoid that kept him held back. The trouble is, I don’t know how many there are, or the first place to look!”
Milky Way slumped over on the bench, looking glum. Then she turned back to Twilight. “But, I’ll tell you what: if you can help me re-contain Black Hole, I’ll find you a way back to. . . where did you come from, anyway?”
Hmm. . . that’s promising, Twilight thought. “I come from Canterlot – a city in Equestria. I don’t expect you to know where that is, and right now I don’t either.”
“Nope, but now I want to!” Milky seemed genuinely excited to hear more. “What’s it like there?”
“Well, uh. . . .” Where do I start with her? “Our ruler is Princess Celestia, who every day raises and lowers the sun and – ”
“Okay, sounds fascinating and all, but you just gave me an idea on where to look first. Thanks a lot!” She got up and zipped off, but came right back. “Erm, wanna come with me? Better not be stranded out here.”
“Maybe,” Twilight bluffed. “Where exactly are we going?”
“To the center of this solar system.” She pointed to a brightly-glowing patch in the sky. “I bet the Sun would have something that can help us – or at least know something. You coming or what?”
Well, if this helps me get back home. . . . “Sure, let’s go, Milky Way!”
Without another word, Milky Way scooped up the unicorn and, with a strong shove of her skates, took off to the light. “Wheee!”
Brave, adventurous. . . with cheer? Twilight was starting to see a tenuous connection to her and the poëm she read. Am I going to see all eleven of these girls before facing Black Hole? She hoped they wouldn’t become friends with her, especially since it would only be a temporary affair.
Milky Way looked behind her, to see Twilight clutching her shoulder. “Hey, on our way there – can you tell me more about yourself?”
So much for that line of thinking. “Like I said, I live in Canterlot, with my pet dragon, Spike. I attend Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, though we’ve just let out for the summer.” Hey, while I’m on that train of thought. . . . “So I thought I’d get myself some summer reading. When I got back to my dorm, I opened it up to one page in particular, which had this poëm, but when I read it aloud, it just. . . brought me out here. I really can’t explain it, because even I don’t know how it worked!” She looked into Milky Way’s eyes. “But maybe you might?”
“Nope,” she said. “That’s no magic I’ve ever heard of. But that does sound amazing! I wish I could use magic.” She looked ahead, her glee fading. “Would be nice to have right about now.
“But enough about that!” She turned her head back around. “Mind if I tell you about myself?”
“Well, I can’t stop you.” Twilight sighed. “At least it’ll pass the time. How much further is the Sun?”
“About fifteen minutes out, I think,” she answered. “Anyway, my name’s Milky Way, though you already know that. I have a younger sister, named Andromeda, who just looks up to everything I do.”
“Kinda like Spike,” Twilight said. “Well, whenever I do notice. Usually I’m studying something.”
“Spike? Oh, your dragon – woah!” Milky ducked out of the way of a rather large planetoid. “That was close. Anyway, I spend my time exploring the universe. The things I’ve seen – you wouldn’t believe them!”
“I believe it,” Twilight snarked. “I’m one of them, after all.”
“Yes, well – oh!” Milky Way snapped her fingers. “I just remembered. You’re going to need skates to get around the universe. You want me to get you some?”
“No, that’s alright.” Four fewer things to keep track of. “Just tell me how yours work. I can use some of my magic to imitate them.”
“Okay, it’s simple.” She pointed down at her feet. “They roll along these pathways you see here, but you can also use them to push off of them and jump. You can even walk on them yourself, probably without magic.” She quickly braked. “Want to try it yourself?”
Twilight’s horn lit up – with Milky Way looking on in awe – and cast a glow onto the wheels of her skates. Once she got a proper feel of the material, she cast it onto her own horseshoes. Confident that her spell worked, she leapt off of Milky Way’s shoulder and hit the pathway – and actually hit it. Tangibly, as though she were on land.
She took a moment to feel around. The sound reminded her of linoleum, even though by all accounts it should be intangible. Still, she thought, in a universe where I can breathe in no atmosphere, it’s best not to question minor details like this – lest I jinx something I don’t know about.
“Okay, I think I’m good to go,” Twilight told Milky Way. “Where were we headed?”
“To the Sun!” Milky Way pointed to the now much brighter patch of light ahead of them.
Twilight hopped back up onto Milky Way’s shoulder. “I don’t think I can run as fast as you want to go,” she told her.
“No worries!” And with a strong thrust of her skates, she took off towards the star. “Though now I wonder how you’ll handle being next to a star.”
“I think I can keep my distance,” Twilight reassured. “How hard can it – ” Suddenly Twilight had to start squinting, as the brightness of the star started to get to her. “Is this it!?” Twilight asked.
“Yep, it sure is,” Milky Way answered. “Let’s go and meet the Sun.”
In the midst of the system where all the planets play Is a brightly-shining star bringing forth the day. So great is my voice That they haven’t a choice But to sit down and listen to me, Until my light is all they see.
There’s no begetter Of anyone better So far as I know at all – None can trump my siren’s call!
On a stage atop the star, another girl was singing out her heavenly song to all who would listen. And many were listening to her – surrounding the star’s southern hemisphere, countless tiny alien beings were cheering loudly, praising her vocals, begging for her to continue.
And joining them now was Milky Way and Twilight Sparkle, who only now feel the intense heat from the star. Unlike the aliens and Milky Way, Twilight had to squint to keep from going blind, and keep her distance, lest she burn up.
Milky Way was starting to make her way to the Sun, but Twilight held her back. “Let’s wait until she’s finished,” she told her. Then Twilight noticed that, as she sang, the star flared up, burning brighter and more intensely with her volume.
Even Milky Way was starting to get nervous. “Point taken,” she replied.
They stood there, watching her perform for a few minutes longer. Even Twilight had to admit, the singer’s talent was surpassed by few, if any. Her vocal range was a cut above any opera singer in Canterlot, and her lyrical ability rivalled Equestria’s greatest poëts.
Not long after, she finally finished her ballad:
Don’t you think This star will sink Out of the sight of her fans – Across the system my voice spans!
She’s definitely boasting bright, Twilight figured. Another parallel to that poëm I read. Then she turned back to Milky Way. “Think you could walk up to her and ask about what’s bothering you? I’d do it, but, well. . . .” She swept the ‘ground’ with her hooves. “I’ll shadow you, at least. Er, no pun intended.”
Milky Way giggled. “Sure, right behind me!”
As the two slipped behind the star, the singer was just departing the stage. I guess even a prima donna like her needs a break every now and then.
Milky Way intercepted her when she got a moment. “Hey, excuse me, got a moment?” she asked.
“Hey sugar,” she greeted. “Love to give you my autograph, but how about later? I’m getting ready for my next big performance.”
“It’s not that.” Now Milky Way was a bit less sure than before. “Name’s Milky Way, and this is Twilight.” She pointed behind her, at the practically-blind unicorn. “We need your help with something really really important!”
The singer approached them, unperturbed by Milky Way’s urgency. “I’m the Sun. Maybe you’ve heard of me?” She put her hand up. “No no, don’t tell me – I’m sure you have. You need me to sing something on short notice, don’cha, sugar?”
“Not exactly.” Milky Way started fidgeting her hands, before rapidly blurting out, “You-see-there’s-a-really-really-bad-guy-out-there – ”
“Hey hey hey!” The Sun put her hand up again to stop her from rambling any further. “Slow down there, sugar; what’s got you all riled up?”
Milky Way took a deep breath, and tried again. “You see, there’s a really bad guy, named Black Hole, who’s out there trying to destroy the entire universe – squeezing everything down into a single point!”
“A singularity, she means,” Twilight cut in. “Its gravity would be so strong, not even your light can shine through it.” Hey, here’s an idea. . . . “So when it happens – if we let it happen – nobody would ever hear you sing again.”
That got the Sun’s attention. Nailed it. “Seriously. Not even my brilliant light can shine through that. . . what was that you called it again?” Her mood tuned sour, then determined. “Whatever. That guy is going down. What can I do to help you out, little pony?”
Milky Way took over. “We’ll need the fragments of the planetoid he was contained in, so we can, well. . . contain him again.” Twilight cringed at the repetition. “I think I saw one land inside your star.” Milky Way shifted her gaze at the burning ball of plasma – unlike Twilight, she had no problems with looking directly at the star. “Think you can reach in and yank it out?”
“Honey, you lost your mind?” The Sun started laughing. “Last time I tried that, I darn near singed my hair off.”
Twilight noticed the star flare up when the Sun laughed loudly. Inspiration struck. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea,” she told the Sun. “Start singing again, and really make it loud – if the fragment’s actually inside your star, it should spit it out eventually.”
The Sun grinned, pointing at Twilight. “Actually,” she said, “gotta say, sugar, that’s not a bad idea. Tell you what – ” she started making her way back onto her stage, microphone already in hand – “if y’all find some places around me and get ready to catch whatever’s gonna come out, I’ll keep improvising and belting out songs ’til the fat lady takes over.
“Oh, and one last thing – ” The Sun tossed a pair of shades to Twilight, who caught them in her telekinetic grip. Okay, so I know that still works out here. That’s helpful. “Heh. Keep ’em, honey. You’re gonna need ’em ’round these parts.”
Twilight slipped them on, and looked at the star. She couldn’t believe how much better it was on her eyes. “Wow. . . .” She was almost at a loss for words. Almost. “Thanks a lot, Sun! These’ll really help.”
“Thought you’d like ’em. Now y’all get ready!” The Sun resumed climbing back onstage. She checked behind her, and saw Milky Way waiting. Twilight was right behind the crowd of aliens. “Are you ready for more?” she asked the crowd.
Loud cheering and applause erupted from them.
“I said ‘Are you ready for more!?’” The star flared from the Sun’s mere emphasis. This question was clearly meant more for Milky Way and Twilight.
Milky Way cheered behind the Sun. Twilight merely nodded, remaining intensely focused on the task at hoof.
“Here we go!”
As the Sun started singing out once more, Twilight started looking for the fragment from the sudden flareup. No luck. Milky Way poked her head out from behind the star, and shook her head. No luck back there, either. Twilight signaled for another crescendo.
The Sun was happy to oblige, if only to feed her own ego – her voice rang out, and the star flared up as well. Quickly, Twilight scanned the area around the star – she couldn’t find anything it ejected. She started galloping to Milky Way, who apparently came up fruitless as well.
“This is starting to become hopeless!” Twilight had to raise her voice to be heard over the Sun, even from such a short distance to Milky Way. “Are you sure the fragment landed inside the sun!? It would have disintegrated on impact!”
“I’m pretty sure it – yes, there it is!” Milky Way pointed at one dark patch on the star’s surface.
Twilight squinted. Surely she’s joking, she thought, that’s clearly a sunspot – wait a second. Is that. . . ? “But how would it have survived?” she asked Milky Way.
She shrugged. “Let’s not waste any more time!” She gestured to the Sun to give them another crescendo.
The Sun clearly saw that her regular crowd was loving this performance in particular – and indulged them further, sending out such a brilliant flash of light and fire as to make even Twilight and Milky Way squint. But the Sun didn’t relent – she kept the pressure on, and slowly, yet surely, the fragment started working its way out of the coronasphere, and by the time the Sun let down with a quiet lull, they could see a stone fragment afloat in front of the star, still glowing red-hot.
Milky Way started approaching it, but Twilight stopped her. “I’ve got this.” Twilight’s horn lit up, and she grabbed the fragment in her telekinetic grasp. She remembered the safety features from the School for Gifted Unicorns’ science classes – any endothermic or exothermic reactions are to remain on the counter or, if it must be held, held by telekinesis, as these did not conduct heat. Then with a gentle cryogenic spell, she started cooling the fragment down, slowly, so as not to crack it into several more fragments. After a few minutes of this, she let Milky Way hold the fragment, which had now cooled to a dark gray.
“One down, and. . . I dunno how many to go,” Milky Way admitted sheepishly, looking down at their new find. “Still, it’s better than nothing. We should probably thank the Sun for helping us out, huh?”
“If you want.” Twilight started trotting off. “I’m going to get a head-start looking around the system – you can catch up wi – gah!”
Milky Way started pulling Twilight along her tail. “Now hold on a minute – we might be in a hurry, but that’s no reason to be rude, is it?”
Twilight pulled herself free from Milky Way’s grasp. “Don’t grab me by there – that hurts!”
“Sorry, Twilight. I’ll make it quick, alright?” She then started skating back to the star, and by extension to the Sun.
The Sun seemed pretty tired, having sat on the “ground” panting gently, yet still seemingly proud of the show she just put on. She looked up when she heard roller skate wheels and shoed hooves approaching. “Did you get what you wanted?” she asked when they arrived.
Milky Way triumphantly held up the fragment. “Oh yeah!” she boasted. “Seriously, thanks a lot. You have no idea how big of a help you were out there.”
“Y’all think so? ’Cause that was my best performance to date. Should’ve seen the crowd!” She stood back onto her own skates. “But I’m not done yet – not until Black Hole is trapped back in his own hidey-hole.” She set her microphone down. “My singing can wait – this is much more important.”
“Thank you Sun,” said Twilight, “but we can handle this ourselves.”
“Nuh-uh.” The Sun skated right up to Milky Way’s side. “I’m sticking with you right now. Where are we going?”
After some thought, Milky Way answered, “Okay, I know for sure all the fragments are in this solar system. I don’t know how many fragments there are, and we have just the one right now.”
“If it helps,” the Sun replied, “I didn’t see any more come over here. Whatever you’re looking for must lie beyond its orbit.”
She sighed, and then chuckled. “Right then. So I’m going on a little treasure hunt with an explorer of the universe and her pet unicorn to stop Black Hole from collapsing the universe in on us.”
“I’m not her pet!” Twilight objected. “I got dragged into this through. . . some unrelated event. Milky Way said she’d find me a way home if I went along with her”
“Relax, Twilight. I get it.” The Sun patted her head. What is with these girls and my head? “But sure, this should give me some inspiration. Now, where to next?”
“You have any idea?” Milky Way asked.
Twilight shrugged. “You know this system better than I do.”
“Fine, I’ll take charge.” The Sun pointed out one dimly-gray dot in the sky beyond. “Out there’s the Moon – basically the exact opposite of me. Mopey, withdrawn, quiet – Idon’t know if I’ve ever gotten more than a hundred words out of her. Well, other than her poëms, of course. She’s probably written more poëms than I’ve sang songs, I’ll bet.”
“Sounds difficult to deal with,” Twilight commented. “I guess you mean we should ask her first so we get her out of the way first, right?”
“You nailed it right on the head,” the Sun purred.
“I thought there’d be more planets between here and the Moon,” Milky Way objected. “Could’ve sworn I’ve seen them earlier in my search. What about them?”
“Oh, Mercury and Venus?”
Milky Way nodded.
“Yeah, Mercury’s out training for speed, as she usually does – reckon she said she was slacking a bit lately – and Venus is practicing her new ballet routine.” The Sun shrugged. “I really don’t know where they are right now, and we really shouldn’t disturb either of them, you dig me, sugar?”
“Do you know when they’ll be back?” Twilight asked.
“Could be in five minutes, could be in an hour,” the Sun replied. “You honestly never know.” She pointed at the space beyond. “Now, are we gonna be here playing Twenty Questions, or do y’all wanna get a move-on?”
“Yes, let’s go!” Twilight hopped up onto Milky Way’s back. The Sun took off on her roller skates, following an unseen trail. Milky Way took off in the Sun’s wake, making sure not to deviate from her path.
“You sure she knows where to go?” Twilight asked Milky Way. “I don’t see the usual pathway here.”
“Yeah, I’m going to trust her on this,” Milky Way answered. “It’s going to be a long trip, I can tell – though not as long as from where I found you. Now get settled in.” She then picked up her pace, catching up to the Sun in a few moments.
Curiously, the Sun started singing again, with no less the same melody as the same song she was singing when Milky Way and Twilight first arrived.
This darkness threatens to make these solar sisters set, But with Milky Way’s help, I say no – not yet! This star will embark To conquer the dark That he threatens to bring – Until all that’s left is nothing.
We’ll strive ’gainst his draw Of gravity’s law And seal him right back away – And hopefully this time he’ll stay!
In a dark corner of the cosmos – on the dark side of a satellite – there sat a girl, robed in all gray, writing a new poëm on a scroll of parchment. She furrowed her brow at one line. “No, that does not look quite right,” she said to herself. “But what if I. . . ?” She then scribbled out the offending line, and it magically disappeared from the parchment, as though it was never written in the first place. In its stead, she wrote another line, and then smiled and nodded satisfactorily. “Much improved.”
Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw a bright glimmer of someone – namely, the Sun – approaching her. But she wasn’t alone, not this time – another girl had joined her, one she hadn’t ever seen before, and with her, perched on her shoulder, was a small violet unicorn.
“Here comes the Sun,” she said to herself. As if she knew what was coming with her, she set the parchment down and turned to face them. “I must say, it mustn’t be alright if she is coming out to me.”
The Sun and Milky Way skidded to a halt. “Hey Moon,” the Sun greeted. “Got a second, sugar?”
The Moon sighed. “Knowing you, Sun, it would be much longer than a second. And I see that you’ve brought friends – it’s strange that I’ve not met them since.” She then looked at Milky Way and Twilight. “So who are you, if I may ask?” As she spoke, she maintained a steady metrical cadance – as though she was constantly speaking in verse.
Milky Way stepped forward. “My name’s Milky Way,” she said, “and this is Twilight.” Her voice remained calm, devoid of emotion, to avoid setting off the Moon. “I. . . uh, we’re on a quest to stop Black Hole from destroying the universe – me, her, and the Sun.” She pointed at each person as she spoke. “And now you, too – the Sun mentioned that you might have something that could help us.”
The Moon nodded, just slightly, then turned her attention to Twilight. “And you, the unicorn – I’ve not seen one like you before. Pray tell, why are you with her?”
“I’m. . . just with her, I guess,” Twilight said. “It’s kind of a long story. I don’t think I have time to tell.”
“Come now, Twilight.” The Moon pulled the unicorn from Milky Way’s shoulder and set her down on the surface of her satellite. “I have much time to listen. We are not in current peril, yes?”
“Actually, we are,” said Twilight. “And it is rather urgent. His name’s Black Hole, and he’s going to compress the entire universe down into a singularity.” She leapt from the satellite’s surface – rather easily – and back by Milky Way’s side. Huh, that was easy. “We really don’t know how long we have left, so we should assume we have no time at all.”
“Oh yes, Black Hole. I’ve heard his name before.” She pulled out another parchment scroll and looked over her poëtry. “These sonnets that I’ve written tell his tale – his triumphs and his detriments. He should be sealed away within a sphere of stone.” She looked at Milky Way. “You seem mischievous,” she deduced. “Did you free him from his place?”
Milky Way sighed. “Guilty as charged,” she admitted, “but it was an accident! I didn’t know about him, I swear!”
“I believe her,” the Sun testified. “If she meant to bust Black Hole loose, she wouldn’t have come to this system and pulled one fragment out of my sun. Well – ” she cleared her throat – “with my help, of course.”
“How admirable,” the Moon commented. “Yet my question stands – why did she hit his sphere with such strength as to break it up?”
“I did not!” Milky Way looked genuinely offended. “It was just a really light touch.”
“A light touch?” The Moon’s brow furrowed at Milky Way’s words. “Then it’s worse than I have feared – he cannot be contained again, unless we can reinforce it once more.” In one swift move, she made her parchment scroll vanish, and conjured another one – blank, this time. “I can help you there, when the time comes.”
Her coöperation did nothing to stem the tide of fear from her earlier comment. “Still, we’re looking for another fragment of his ‘sphere,’” Milky Way told the Moon, who nodded. “The Sun told me that you might have it here – is that right?”
“What accusation!” The Moon shrouded her face behind her hair, and retreated to the dark side of her satellite. There she remained, motionless, speechless.
“Nice,” Twilight snarked.
Milky Way turned to the Sun. “Was it something I said?” she asked.
“Don’t mind her none, girls,” the Sun reassured, in a lower voice. “She’s often blear like that – her mood swings like the tides, and all we can do is just grin and bear it.”
Is she bipolar? Twilight wondered.
“For what it’s worth,” the Sun continued, “her poëtry does make up for it. . . mostly. Y’all wanna hear something cool?” She gestured them to come closer. As they did so, the Sun whispered to them, “When she’s particularly inspired, her poëtry can actually make things come true.”
Twilight’s eyes widened at the prospect – if this is true, the Moon must be my ticket back to Canterlot! she thought. But another thing. . . . “Then why can’t she just. . . I dunno, write a poëm about Black Hole reimprisoning himself?” she asked. “Would be so much easier than to run around collecting fragments.”
“I thought so too, little pony,” the Sun told her, “but she said it don’t work that way. Wouldn’t be ‘in character,’ in her words. And believe me, I saw her try time and time again. We’ve got to do this the hard way, sugar.” She sighed, and looked down on the Moon. “Would be easier if she’d just get out of her funk.”
Hmm, what to do. . . ? After some thought, Twilight thought of a way to cheer up the Moon. She slipped from Milky Way’s shoulder and crept over to the Moon. “Hey Moon,” she told her, “you know, where I come from, we have some really good poëtry too. Would you like to hear?”
It was a tight gambit, but it paid off. The Moon lowered her façade of gloom and doom and smiled at Twilight. “Truly, yes,” she told her. “What works of verse do you have?”
After trying to settle on one specific poëm to recite, Twilight decided on a classic even the Moon would appreciate – “Ode to þe Mare in þe Moon” by Silver Tongue.
Come ev’ry Night, Ye grace us wiþ Your Guard Who watcheþ over as we drift to Sleep – Safeguarding Subjects from þe Horrors deep And giving þem Reſpite from Days made hard. O lunar Princeſs, hear me now, þis Bard, Now kept aſhore by hazy Daylight’s Neap – Bring me Your Comfort, and my Comp’ny keep, And may Your ſtellar Magic be unmarr’d.
Your Spite is known, Dear, of þat fateful Day Celeſtia exil’d You from Equeſtria hence And left You trapt wiþin Your brilliant Moon. Curſed a þouſand Winters þere to ſtay, Ye yet conduct Your nightly Duties þence – I pray to ſee Your Reſtoration ſoon.
The Moon found herself mesmerized by Silver Tongue’s words – and when Twilight finished, she proved to be much more willing to help them than before. “Surely,” she said, “though I know nought of your kingdom, little pony, your words speak unbridled beauty.” She conjured another scroll, unfurling it to a ludicrously long text. “Look – this scroll describes the surface of my world, continuously writing on itself in blank verse. Now, you said a fragment landed here, did you?”
Milky Way looked over the Moon’s satellite carefully. “I did, but I can’t find it in all this gray,” she complained.
“Not to worry, I can help there.” The Moon started scrolling back from the ending, her brow furrowing the longer she kept at it. “Though my verses stretch for longer than I thought. Could you be more specific?”
“Um. . . .” Milky Way kept thinking, presumably about where this fragment could have possibly landed on the satellite. Then she snapped her fingers – she had another idea. “While I don’t know where it landed, I can say when it landed – yesterday, in fact.”
The Moon nodded. “It will suffice.”
“Why did you wait until today to stop Black Hole?” Twilight whispered to Milky Way. “You could’ve saved us all a lot of trouble!”
“I didn’t,” Milky Way whispered back. “I’ve been looking for the right system this entire time – and only just found it today.”
How do days work out here? Twilight wondered. Eh, forget it. She waited until the Moon found a particular passage, which read:
. . . And from the black, another struck Within the southern hemisphere Embedding deeply in the ground And hiding from the sight of Earth. . . .
“Were there any more?” Milky Way asked.
The Moon looked immediately before and after the passage, before shaking her head. “It was the only impact of that day,” she told them. “That must be it – and that specific crater. . . .” She pulled Milky Way’s hand and led her and the Sun to the southern hemisphere, on the side always facing away from its parent world. “. . . here it is.”
Milky Way looked closely. “I don’t see it,” she said. “Sun, can you shine a light?”
“Sure, honey.” The Sun’s hair started glowing, brighter and brighter, but not to such a degree that it hurt Twilight’s eyes. But even with the increased brightness, none of the three could see any fragment in the soil.
“Well. . . now what?” Twilight asked. “Unless the Moon doesn’t mind us getting our hooves – or hands – dirty, we’re stuck here.”
“Every crater on its surface tells a different story,” the Moon told Twilight. “Many of these stories I know well. So don’t become afraid of being part of this one.”
“Alright, let’s get serious.” Milky Way cracked her knuckles and got to work. Slowly and gingerly, she brushed away some of the surface regolith that had settled. “Luna?” she asked not long after. “Is it normally this warm?”
“If the impact is recent enough, the rock should still be molten,” Twilight told her. “I’d take a few precautions if that’s the case.”
“The unicorn does speak the truth,” Luna opined. “You should keep digging there regardless.”
“Got it!” With a newfound vigor, she leapt back into her task. She flung dirt and rocks this way and that, and found that Twilight’s concerns were ultimately unfounded. She felt herself getting ever closer to her goal –
“Not so rough!” The Moon retreated behind her hair again. “I realize that your task is paramount, but that is still no cause to leave a heavy mark upon my sphere!”
The Sun tried to comfort her. “Moon, sugar, she didn’t mean to.” She then looked at Milky Way. “You didn’t, right?”
Milky Way sighed. “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry.”
Slowly, the Moon showed her face once again – if only just an eye. She sighed. “Do what you must,” she told Milky Way. “I care nothing for it anymore.”
Twilight looked at Milky Way’s handiwork. She lit up her horn to feel around the resulting hole – which caught the Moon’s attention.
“Little pony,” she said. “How do you do that?”
“Huh?” She looked up at her lit horn. “Oh, that! That’s just something we unicorns do when we use magic. Nothing extraordinary about it. Why?”
“I had never seen a thing like it before!” she exclaimed. “I need a moment.” With her moment, she conjured a blank scroll and started writing frantically.
Twilight let her horn fade out. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
“Not at all!” The Moon looked up and saw her now dimmed horn. “Now bring that back – at once!”
“Uh. . . okay?” For a unicorn, a lit horn was the simplest of spells, so while it did not trouble Twilight at all, it left her wondering about what the Moon had in mind.
After a minute or so of continuous writing, the Moon shut her scroll. “Perfection!” she announced. “This, my Twilight, is a charm for you – for strengthening whatever spell you have.”
Twilight was about to open the scroll to read it, but the Sun stopped her. “I’ve seen them work, little pony, but they’re a one-time-use kinda deal. I’d save that for something more important – like Black Hole, I reckon.”
She nodded. “Point taken.” She handed it back to the Moon. “Would you hang on to this for me?”
“I will.” With a snap of her fingers, it disappeared. “Just call upon me, and you shall receive it.”
“Got it,” said Twilight.
“Got it!” Milky Way repeated. Triumphantly, she held up her prize – another dark-gray fragment of rock, looking similar to the one she pulled from the Sun earlier – only this time, it had long since cooled.
“If I may?” The Moon leaned in close to Milky Way’s find. “I see no deformation, nor a missing piece.” She nodded. “The villain can be recontained.”
“That’s two down!” said Milky Way. “Actually, Moon, do you know how many more we have left?”
“Pray we haven’t many left” was the most Milky Way could get out of her.
She shrugged. “Fair enough, I guess. So what’s our next stop? Any ideas?”
“Hmm. . . .” The Sun started thinking about something. “Actually, Mercury might be back from training. What do you say, girls – should we pay her a visit?”
“Sounds good to me!” said Milky Way. “Be nice to get a little starshine after being back here in the dark. Twilight?”
The unicorn groaned. “Please tell me I won’t get blinded this time.”
“No worries, honey,” the Sun reassured – “Mercury isn’t that close to my star. Besides, you still have my shades from earlier, don’cha?”
“I guess that’s true,” she admitted.
The Moon looked down. “Very well – I shall journey with you into the light.” She seemed troubled.
“Is something wrong?” Twilight asked.
“The Moon just doesn’t like the light sometimes,” the Sun explained. Then to the Moon, “Reckon this is just one of those times, huh?”
“It is nought,” she replied. “Perhaps I could do with a bit of light myself.”
“That’s the spirit,” the Sun responded. “Y’all ready to go, girls?”
“I am!” said Milky Way. Twilight nodded in agreement.
Close in orbit, a star-baked planet shone dully in the sky. When Milky Way, Twilight, the Sun, and the Moon skidded to a halt, they found themselves alone in orbit.
Anticipating a brighter environment, Twilight had already slipped on her shades. “Sun? I thought you said Mercury would be here by now.” She kept looking around – Don’t tell me I can’t see here with these on! “Where is she?”
“I can’t find her anywhere either,” Milky Way confirmed. She turned to the others. “Anyone else?”
“Perhaps she isn’t back,” the Moon suggested. “What can keep her longer?”
“I dunno, sugar,” the Sun said. “Maybe I was wrong after all.” She crossed her arms. “Darn that Mercury – can’t ever settle for second fastest, can she?”
“Perhaps all we can do is sit and wait – or move along to Venus.” The Moon started to skate away.
“Let’s not be too hasty,” the Sun objected. “Reckon she should be back any moment – I just know it. Besides,” she added to the Moon, who had just turned around, “I don’t know if Venus is back, either.”
“Very well.” The Moon moved into the shade of the planet. “I claim the dark half for myself.”
Milky Way sighed. “What do we do in the meantime?” she asked. “It’s not like we can run out to go get her – and we don’t know where she is, do we?”
The Sun and the Moon both shook their heads.
“Milky Way?” Twilight started.
“And the same with Venus!” Milky Way continued. “Honestly, maybe we should’ve headed out further from the star instead.”
“Milky Way – ”
Milky Way sighed. “Maybe we should just figure out where the next piece went by ourselves. We’ve done it twice already – this next one shouldn’t be too – ”
“Milky Way, look out!”
“Eep!” She quickly skated aside just in time to dodge an object rapidly orbiting around the Sun, at a much faster pace than the planet. “What was that?” she asked.
“I have no idea.” Maybe if you just listened to me sooner. . . .
“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” the Sun said. “Reckon it might be a rogue asteroid?”
“Asteroids do not behave like that,” the Moon responded. “It would have collided with the planet sooner.”
“Let’s wait for it to wrap around again,” Twilight suggested. “Worst that can happen, it’ll either hit the planet and we’ll dig it out like last time, or it’ll hit the star and the Sun can have another concert.”
The Sun nodded. “I like the sound of that.”
“I do not.” The Moon looked up to the Sun. “Your singing clouds my thoughts.”
“Ah, c’mon sugar, don’t be such a party pooper.” Then the Sun got an idea. “Actually, now I’m thinking. Moon, how quickly can you describe something in verse?”
“Haikus fit such a purpose,” she replied. “Why?”
The Sun pointed in the direction the object came from. “When that thing comes back around, it’d be great if you could find out if it’s another fragment. How ’bout it?”
“A swell idea,” the Moon agreed.
“And just in time, too,” said Milky Way. “Heads up, girls!” She saw the object coming around again on its orbit. This time she stood well out of its way. “Moon?” she called out. “Your turn!”
The Moon said nothing, hard at work writing down what she saw on a newly-conjured scroll. By the time it had passed, she had a complete haiku. “A fair bit crude,” she commented, “but it will have to do.” She read it aloud:
At a lightning pace, A piece of foreign gray rock Speeds forever on.
“‘Foreign gray rock’?” Milky Way asked. Then her eyes widened. “That must be it! The third fragment’s orbiting this star!” Her elation was not long-lasted. “I just wish I knew that sooner – so I wouldn’t have skated away from the star so soon.”
“If you had not,” the Moon interjected behind her own hair, “you would not have my help.” She pointed right at Milky Way – Can she see through her hair? “Remember that.”
“Right, I’m sorry.” Milky Way started pondering what to do next. “Now how are we going to catch it? It’s going by way too fast for any of us.”
Twilight started calculating geometry in her head, furrowing her brow as she concentrated. Okay, she thought, assuming its orbit is perfectly circular, which it probably is, then we can simply skate along a chord that should put us ahead of it at just the right velocity to grab it. She looked out to the star – but I still have that to worry about. Not too close. Failing that. . . .
“Okay, I have an idea,” Twilight said. Better pick the girl with the most heat resistance. “Sun, how fast are you on your skates?”
“Fast enough, sugar,” she replied. Ugh, great – vague terms. “Why, what are you planning?”
“I’m considering going along a straight path cutting through its orbit – though not through your star,” she quickly added – “which would let us outpace it just enough to intercept it on the other end of the path.”
“Okay, um – woah!” Twilight was startled by the fragment coming back around. Close call. She quickly got back on track. “Moon, could I borrow some parchment for a moment? And your pen?”
“Certainly.”
Once Twilight had these in her telekinetic grasp, she hopped down from Milky Way’s shoulder and started making a few crude sketches for the Sun, describing them as she went along. “We’re here. . . here’s the star, keep your distance. . . this is the orbit the fragment’s on – and this is the path we’ll take to get. . . there!” She stopped and looked up at the Sun. “With me so far?”
“Sure.”
She returned to the parchment. “If you’re ‘fast enough,’ as you say, we should be able to get just further ahead of it, allowing me to grab it.”
The Sun raised her eyebrow. “Sure you don’t want me to grab it alone?” she asked. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re great with numbers, but I reckon I can catch it myself.”
Twilight shook her head. “Not likely. The velocity would almost certainly hurt your hand and set the fragment on another orbit. But with my horn – ” she gingerly tapped it with her hoof – “and with my magic, I can easily, not to mention safely, snatch it out of its orbit.” She climbed onto the Sun’s shoulder. Huh, she’s really warm – but then, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. “That’s why I’m coming with you.” With her magic, she gave the scroll and quill back to the Moon. “Thanks.”
She smiled faintly. “But of course.”
“Hold on tight, little pony, ’cause here it comes again!” And as though on cue, the fragment made another orbit around the star. “And we’re off!”
The Sun’s warning, Twilight found, was not unfounded. Apparently “fast enough” meant “zipping around even faster than Milky Way.” Twilight thought maybe she wanted to be sure to get from point A to point B soon enough. Or maybe she’s trying to impress me, in which case, well done.
As she kept her eye on the fragment as best as she could, she felt the star’s brutal nuclear heat beating down on her hide. Stay focused, Twilight. We’re almost there – and it looks like the Sun’s in time. She lit up her horn in advance, though the usual heat it produced was, for lack of a better term, overshadowed by the star’s.
Finally at the end of Twilight’s plotted chord, the Sun skidded to a halt. Twilight, not one for sports but still keeping the eye on the metaphorical ball, sized up her target, and tried grabbing it in her magic.
And slipped.
The fragment kept on its orbital journey around the star, unperturbed, as though Twilight’s magic had never acted upon it at all.
To say she was frustrated would be quite the understatement. “Ugh,” she grumbled. “What is wrong with me?”
“Could be just that it’s too fast for a little magical unicorn like you,” the Sun replied. “But hey, good try. Now, how ’bout we skate on back to Milky Way and – ”
“Not. Yet.” Twilight furrowed her brow again, thinking of an impromptu plan B. Then her eyes widened. “Of course. It’s so obvious.” She turned to the Sun. “We’re going to follow its orbit, but backwards. This should give me several opportunities to intercept it.” She looked up at her horn. “And this time, I’ll know to use more force.”
“Wouldn’t that be dangerous for you, little pony?” the Sun asked.
“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
“Alright, if that’s what you want. . . .” And with that, the Sun took off again – in the other direction, looping around the star, with Twilight and her horn at the ready.
In a few moments, they were about to run into Milky Way, the Moon – and, incidentally, the fragment. Showtime! Twilight lit her horn and started focusing her magic with laser-like intensity onto the fragment. Quickly, she seized one edge in her magical grasp – then applied some pressure against it, more than the time before. She could feel it barely slow down – but the Sun, apparently lost in the moment, didn’t slow down, and Twilight lost her grip once again.
Frustrated for only a moment, Twilight remembered that they were ‘orbiting’ in the other direction – she’ll get another chance, and much sooner in fact. “Don’t stop!” she told the Sun. “We’ll catch that fragment eventually.”
“You got this, honey!” The Sun pressed on, back around the star. I hope you’re right, Sun, Twilight thought. Let’s get this done.
In another few moments, they came across the fragment again. This time, the Sun slowed her pace to afford Twilight a little more time to catch the fragment. Twilight lit her horn again, and as before, grabbed an edge and pressed hard against it. She had a better grip, but it too slipped away eventually.
“Third time’s the charm?” the Sun asked.
Wait a second. . . by Celestia, Twilight, why didn’t you think of this before!? “Actually,” Twilight said, “this time, let’s turn around and skate with the orbit – see if our relative speed should buy me enough time to capture it.”
After thinking about what Twilight meant by “relative speed,” the Sun turned about-face and started skating, slowly building up speed.
Twilight kept her head pointed behind them, anticipating the fragment to come back around eventually. After some time – a bit longer than before, considering their velocity – the fragment came barreling down on them. Twilight flared her horn, grabbed onto the fragment with her telekinetic grip, then applied as much resistance against it as she could. No holding back this time! she thought. And with her luck, or her might, or even both, the fragment finally started slowing down. This could be it!
Perhaps against her better judgment, or seeing her success thus far, the Sun actually turned around and shifted her trajectory into the orbital path, hands outstretched to brake it even further. Twilight was concerned, but curious as to whether this tactic would work.
Evidently it did not. As soon as the Sun had a hand on it and started skidding to a halt, she realized a split-second too late that she had vastly misjudged its velocity, and she and Twilight both tumbled to the ‘ground’ – the latter also losing her telekinetic grip. Twilight was at first mad at the Sun for interfering, but then looked back up and was shocked to find that, not only did she not stop the fragment’s orbit, it somehow regained its orbital velocity. By all accounts, she thought, it should be tumbling into the star, but it’s still going. What’s possessing it?
“Guess I shoulda listened to you earlier, sugar,” the Sun said. “I’m real sorry.”
Twilight shook herself, then got back onto her hooves. “Let’s just go back and wait for Mercury,” she said. “No sense trying things we have no business trying.”
“I guess so.” The Sun grabbed onto Twilight and, instead of placing her on her shoulder, carried her back to the planet, where Milky Way and the Moon were waiting for them – and Mercury, still.
The Moon looked up at the arriving duo. “I saw the fragment knocked you back,” she commented. “Are you alright?”
“We’re fine,” said Twilight. “I did figure out that we’re going to need Mercury to catch that fragment. Something about it seems. . . cursed. As if I can’t slow it down and catch it myself – it just reäccelerates itself.” She sighed. “Which shouldn’t be possible at all, I just – I don’t get it!” She hopped down from the Sun’s arms. “Thanks for trying, anyway.”
The Sun shrugged. “Hey, it was worth a shot.”
Then they heard a light rumbling sound coming up from behind them – characteristic of roller skates, but these were faster than theirs. Much, much faster.
Milky Way was the first to look up. “Is that who I think it is?” she asked.
The Sun turned around to look. “Oh yeah, it is – and about time, too.”
This girl skidded to a halt – though it took a lot longer than they did, probably because of her abnormally high velocity. When she finally did stop, she simply said “’Sup?”
“Mercury!” The Moon looked up from the shadow of the planet. “Where have you been?”
“Shoot, you’ve all been waiting for me?” said Mercury. “Sorry, I got caught up with someone on the tracks trying to outdo me – good try, but no dice; I’m still the reigning champ!”
There are racetracks in outer space? Twilight pondered. And these. . . planets know about other solar systems? So much to unravel here!
Mercury sighed – apparently even speed champions like her can get tired. “So yeah, that’s what’s been keeping me. Did you need someth – woah!” With lightning-quick reflexes, she narrowly avoided the oncoming fragment. She kept staring at it, noting how fast it was orbiting. “So that’s what’s brought you here?” she asked. “Never seen that before.” Then she noticed Milky Way and Twilight. “Haven’t seen either of you before either,” she noted. “What’s up?”
“My name’s Milky Way,” she said, “and this is Twilight. We’ve been looking for fragments of a planetoid that I accidentally broke earlier.”
“Oh, and you brought you pet with you, did you?” Mercury tried to pet Twilight.
She gently swatted away Mercury’s hand. “I can speak for myself, you know!” Twilight shot back. She then sighed. “And I’m not Milky Way’s pet – I’m just a bit lost. I’m not supposed to be here. And really, the only reason I’m helping her is so she could find me a way back to where I came from.” I’d better spare her the details, she thought. I have a feeling I’m going to be doing this a lot.
“I would know about what she is doing,” the Moon opined. “She by accident had freed the nemesis named Black Hole – who, may I add, is attempting to compact the cosmos into nothing as we speak. We need to stop him, now.”
“Alright, alright, I get you.” Mercury stretched herself out, noting the fragment orbiting around again. “I take it you’ve been trying to get it yourselves?”
“We had,” the Sun replied. “Twilight here is actually pretty smart – she showed me a shortcut to intercept it. Of course it didn’t work, but I’m gonna have to remember that.”
“Shortcuts, schmortcuts, of course they don’t really work!” Mercury told them. “What you need is speed – catch up to it, grab it, and slow it down gradually.” She scoffed. “I may be the fastest thing in the universe, but even I know when to take things a little slow.” She noted the fragment orbiting past again. “Like this!” She took off in hot pursuit. Neither Twilight nor Milky Way had ever seen someone as swift as her – in a flash, she had disappeared behind the star.
“I wasn’t about to tag along,” the unicorn said. “I’d just be asking for trouble.”
“I don’t blame you one bit, sugar,” the Sun told her. “Ain’t none of us can keep up with her.”
“She is coming ’round again!” the Moon pointed out. “Look out!”
The girls gave Mercury a considerable berth as she zipped past. She gave a quick “I’ve got it!” before disappearing out of earshot.
“I hope she’s right,” said Milky Way. “That one was really tricky – wasn’t it, Twilight?”
“You have no idea.” Twilight’s horn still hurt from the magical exertion. I hope Mercury has better luck than we had.
Mercury came back around a moment later – “Workin’ on it!” she shot out before their momentum pulled her away.
After that, the girls were merely content to stand there – or in the Moon’s case, sit in the shade – while Mercury more or less did all the work. Mercury let them know of her progress with each orbit.
“Still going fast!”
“This one’s real tricky!”
“Slowing down now!”
“Almost there. . . .”
And finally, on her seventh orbit, she finally was able to skid to a halt – and this time, unlike the Sun, stay stationary. She extended her hand to Milky Way, with a newly-captured fragment. “This what you wanted?” she asked her. “Didn’t find anything else on that orbit.”
“Yes!” Milky Way nodded. “That’s exactly it!” She held it close to her chest. “Finally. That took a while.”
“Yes indeed,” said the Moon. “But what comes next now? I cannot endure this brightness for much longer.”
“Say Mercury,” the Sun asked, “did you see Venus on your way back here?”
“Yeah, I saw her leave sooner than me,” she replied. “Definitely back by now.”
“Any objections?”
Nobody objected – certainly not the Moon.
“Then let’s go meet Venus,” the Sun proposed.
“I’ll race you there!” Mercury dug her skates into the pathway. “One-two-three-go!” With that, she was gone.
The Sun shook her head. “Typical Mercury.”
Twilight climbed back onto Milky Way’s shoulder, and the three girls and unicorn took off away from the star, to meet the next girl.
Out further from the center of the system, one girl was nearly finished practicing some sort of ballet routine on her planet. Although she was already a master of this craft, she strove for nothing less than perfection in every facet.
After a rather long pirouette on the north pole, she landed flat on her feet. “Et voilà!” Even though nobody was watching, she still felt the need to take a bow for her stellar performance.
At least, she thought nobody was watching. She looked up in surprise to see Mercury applauding her, almost sarcastically. “What!” she said. “Have you come to gloat about your achievements, Mercury?”
“Nope!” Mercury replied. “Much as I’d like to, I’m just waiting on the others to show up.” She looked behind her, towards the star. “Should be here any minute now. . . .”
A moment later, they could see the Sun’s brilliance approaching – accompanied by the Moon, and another girl Venus couldn’t identify. “’Bout time you showed up!” said Mercury. “What took you so long?”
“Mercury, please!” Venus said. “That’s no way to treat your friends – or especially strangers!” she added, once she noticed Milky Way. “Might I ask your name, on that note?”
“I’m Milky Way,” she said, “and this is Twilight. We’re trying to find pieces of a planetoid that I accidentally broke – because apparently it was holding this guy named Black Hole at bay, and if we don’t do it fast, he’ll compress the universe into a singularity.”
Better not speak at the moment, Twilight thought, lest I complicate matters.
Venus considered Milky Way’s words for a moment. “Well!” she eventually said. “I’m used to dancing in tight confines, but a single point in space is far too little for someone with the likes of I.” She gracefully stepped down from her planet, landing right on her toes and deftly onto the wheels of her own skates. “If it’s my help you seek, then I am at your service. What shall you have me do?”
Milky Way showed Venus the three planetoid fragments she had collected earlier. “I’ve already found these,” she explained, “but I have no idea how many are left, nor where they are.”
“I thought you might have a piece yourself,” the Sun interjected, “so we came right out to here once we collected Mercury’s.”
“Tut-tut, dear Sun,” Venus chastised. “How could you assume I would have taken and kept one of these fragments for myself? Especially with such a vital quest at hand.”
“I know every piece was scattered around this solar system,” Milky Way explained, “so it’s not out of the question that you might have one and not know it.”
Venus nodded. “I see. I haven’t noticed any of these. . . stone shards on me. You don’t suppose it could be in my planet, do you?”
“Why don’t we find out?” the Sun asked. “No harm, no foul, right?” She reached her hand through the planet’s thick cloud layer – then reeled it right back with a sharp cry of pain. The tips of her fingers looked like they were burned.
“That’s why,” Venus clarified. “There’d be great harm and foul to reach through the acid rainclouds.”
“Moon?” the Sun asked. “Think you’ve got something for this?”
“But of course,” she said. She conjured a scroll and handed it to the Sun.
Milky Way turned back towards Venus. “Is that why you do ballet?” she asked.
“Partly so,” Venus replied. “And partly since dance is the finest expression of my creativity. Staying atop of your planet, especially one as noxious as mine – ’tis quite the balancing act indeed. Which is why I strive for nothing less than absolute perfection.”
“I would imagine so,” Milky Way commented. “How often does that happen to you? Getting burned, I mean.”
“Not for a very long time,” she mentioned. “Honestly, what was the Sun thinking? Then again, her own star may be far more dangerous than this.”
“Can confirm, it’s worse.” The Sun held up her now newly-healed hand. “But that’s for another time. Thanks, sugar.”
The Moon simply nodded.
“Twilight, you’ve got your magic, don’t you?” the Sun asked. “Can you see if the fragment’s inside the atmosphere?”
“Sure.” Twilight lit her horn and went over the planet’s atmosphere and surface with a fine-tooth comb – probably literally, even if it wasn’t visible to the others. “I’m not feeling anything down here,” she said. “You sure you saw something land here, Milky Way?”
If Venus was shocked at seeing Twilight speak, she did not show it.
“I could have sworn I did,” Milky Way said. “Anyone else, any ideas?”
Venus cleared her throat. “If it indeed landed on the surface of my world,” she said, “it would not be likely to survive the immense temperatures or pressures there.” She looked beyond them, almost wistfully. “I remember when great white and silver probes came my way. They were trying to see below the cloud layers.” She giggled under her breath. “They were in for quite the surprise, at what they found. Especially considering that their earlier crafts were designed for landing in water of all things!”
“And how would you know what’s beneath the cloud cover?” Twilight asked. “I’m sure it would burn your face to see into there.”
“I am my own world,” she answered. “Would it make sense not to know myself?”
Okay, Twilight, relax. This universe is full of non-sequiturs. Don’t question this one. “I guess that’s true,” she said. Hey, here’s an idea! “Although. . . given the densities of the atmospheric layers, could something conceivably survive in the upper atmosphere?”
Venus put a hand up to her chin, clearly deep in thought. Then she snapped her fingers. “Yes!” she triumphantly answered. “However, the object in question would have to enter at just the right angle, and even then, it isn’t guaranteed not to go below the troposphere.”
“Right, the troposphere. . . .” Twilight, hopped down from Milky Way’s shoulder, lit her horn again, and as before, started feeling around the planet – but this time, shifted her focus to above the surface. “This could take me a while,” she said. “Bear with me!”
“You must tell me, however did you find such a marvelous creature as Twilight?” Venus asked. “I’ve not seen a unicorn before, nor a talking animal of any sort.”
“Funny story,” Milky Way said. “As I was exploring this system, trying to find all the fragments of Black Hole’s planetoid, I just found her floating in midair.” She pointed beyond their orbit. “Must’ve been somewhere in between the next two orbits, I think. Anyway, she told me she was out here because – ”
“I think I’ve found it!” Twilight said. She pointed with her hoof at one spot on the globe, taking care not to poke it through the cloud cover. “It’s perfectly intact; no signs of damage. Bad news, however, is that it is below the troposphere – but a good shake should dislodge it and let me pull it out.” She turned to face the girls. “Any ideas?”
“Why, it’s simple!” Venus declared. “We must dance! That should jostle my planet enough to dislodge your prize.” And to the others, “Who shall be my partner?”
The others quickly looked to each other, as though looking for someone to volunteer herself.
“Honey, I’d love to, but I don’t do well with dancing onstage,” the Sun said.
“I’m built for speed, not flexibility,” said Mercury. “Count me out.”
“I don’t know how well your movements would translate to hooves like mine,” Twilight added. “Besides, it’ll distract me.”
The Moon simply shrouded herself behind her hair.
“Milky Way!” Venus pointed at her. “You’ll do just fine, ma chérie. Now come along!”
She sighed. “How did I get myself into this situation again?” she asked herself.
“Now,” Venus said, “given the urgency of the situation, I’m afraid we’ll be working out of costume – ” Good thing I’m not up there – “so just follow my movements and you’ll do splendidly. Yes?”
Milky Way scratched the back of her neck. “I dunno Venus,” she admitted, “this all still seems too hard for me.”
“Oh posh, you worry too much.” Venus put a finger to Milky Way’s mouth. “I understand you’re new, so I’ll keep it simple for you.”
“Okay then,” said Milky Way, “I’m trusting you on this.”
Twilight and the others were merely content on watching from the sidelines. Eventually the Sun spoke up. “Mercury, who exactly did you meet on the racetracks back there?” she asked.
“Didn’t catch his name,” she admitted, “but he was racing something fierce. Tried to clear the raceway in under a minute, and before me too. And granted, he got close, but I was faster.”
“And what is your top speed, anyway?” Twilight asked.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, little pony?” Mercury glared at Twilight, then burst out laughing. “I’m just joking around. I can skate at the speed of light – and no, that’s not an exaggeration.”
“Was that how fast you were going earlier?” Twilight asked. “To grab that fragment, I mean.”
“Nah, that was pretty sluggish to me,” Mercury responded. “Lightspeed’s much faster than that. You should see it!”
“I can attest to this,” the Moon said. “At times I see her skate past me – not e’en my hastiest haiku is able to describe the sight. It really is worth seeing for yourself.”
That would be something to see indeed, Twilight thought. “But would it be enough to go up against Black Hole?” she asked. “From what I remember, not even light can escape their gravitational pulls.”
Mercury looked genuinely surprised. “That strong, huh?” she asked. “Guess I better be in my A-game when we face off. Soon as we get this fragment and how many others out there. Woah!” She noticed Milky Way trip over her skates, while trying to pull off a particularly difficult move.“Careful there, Milky!” she shouted out.
“Thanks!” she shouted back.
“I’ve been meaning to ask, Twilight,” the Sun told Twilight, “how does that horn of yours work anyway? You just think about moving something and it just does, or what?”
“Oh, uh. . . .” How do I put this? “It’s a little hard to describe if you’ve never done it before,” she said. “That said, it takes a bit of concentration on what you want to grab, and a lot of foalhood practice, but once you get the hang of it, it just becomes something you do. Like singing, for instance.” Yeah, that’s an apt analogy.
“So you can handle really hot things safely that way?” the Sun followed up. “That would explain pulling that fragment out of my star.”
“Yeah, it sure would.” Twilight looked to the planet. “And I could try it here, but the atmosphere’s too turbulent for me to get a good grip. Plus, from what Venus has said, it’s acidic – which my magic can handle with no problem, but I don’t know about the rest of you, especially Milky Way.”
“Is it like my poëtic magic?” the Moon asked. “I cannot imagine any other form.”
“Well, we do have spells written down, and yes, they do tend to be in verse.” This only interested the Moon even further. “But it takes a trained unicorn to use them. I’m one, if that helps, but not every unicorn is.”
“How fascinating!” the Moon said.
“Heads up, girls,” the Sun warned. “Looks like they’re finally ready.”
“Or at least as ready as they’ll ever be,” Mercury quipped. Indeed, Venus looked a bit frazzled – Does Milky Way have two left skates? Twilight pondered. Whatever, let’s just get this out of the way.
“Ladies, your attention, please?” Venus asked. “Despite Milky Way’s. . . erm, nouveautée, I believe we have our petit pas de deux ready for you all. Milky Way?”
“I’m ready, I guess,” she said. “Um. . . this is a short improvised dance she calls ‘Réunion,’ and it’s supposed to symbolize two halves being, well. . . reunited.” No, really? “Is that all right?” she asked Venus.
“That should suffice,” said Venus. She turned back to the others. “Well? Are you ready for the grand premiere of our oh-so-brief performance?”
All four silently nodded their approval.
“Very well!” said Venus. “Twilight, I would imagine you know what to do behind the scenes, no?”
Twilight hopped up and trotted over to the planet, lighting up her horn. She then felt around with her magic and got a grip on the unseen fragment. “Ready when you are!”
“Splendid. Milky Way, the stage awaits.” Venus grabbed Milky Way’s hand and started pulling her to the “stage” – really, the planet. “And we begin.”
Milky Way swallowed. “Oh boy. . . .”
Venus was prim and proper, exact in her every movement, and Milky Way. . . not so much, with Venus gracefully compensating for her partner’s missteps. Still, the Moon, the Sun, and Mercury were amazed by their movements. Feeling suddenly inspired, the Moon quickly whipped out a scroll of parchment and started writing.
Twilight wasn’t paying attention – not to them. She concerned herself with not losing this piece of rock. As the duet moved and twirled upon the world, she started feeling some slight disturbances in the troposphere within. C’mon Venus, she thought, so she wouldn’t interrupt them. Don’t let me down now.
A tap here, a roll of the skates there – and finally Milky Way started getting a feel of what Venus wanted. Muscle memory took over, and as Venus glided over the surface, so did she.
It was a terrific performance, but it didn’t help Twilight make much progress. The piece was still lodged firmly inside the atmosphere. C’mon, she thought, hurry up!
Venus looked down to see Twilight struggle with pulling on her magic. She looked to Milky Way and nodded – and now for the big finale! she was signaling. Hand in hand, they started skating in circles across the surface.
Finally, some real progress! Twilight almost said aloud. The vibrations from the constant movement finally got one edge poking through the clouds. She doubled her telekinetic grip, and pulled harder than before.
But Venus wasn’t done just yet. Slowly, while still skating, she started pulling Milky Way towards herself, causing them both to start spinning faster and faster.
Just as they were about to collide at the pole, Twilight finally yanked the fragment free from its planetary prison. She fell back with a yelp, nearly dropping the acid-laced stone onto herself. She looked up to see the ‘reunion’ part of the dance – and then them turning to face their audience and bowing.
All three girls applauded the performance – even Mercury, genuinely this time, without irony – and Twilight hoisted her prize high for all to see, already working on a neutralizing spell to clean it off.
“I can definitely say that was the best dance I’ve ever done,” said Milky Way, catching her breath.
If Venus had any objections, she politely withheld them. “Regardless,” she did say, “we have your fragment. I suppose I should owe you an apology for earlier – I hadn’t realized I indeed had what you were looking for.”
“That’s okay,” said Milky Way. “The Sun and the Moon both said more or less the same thing. Besides, you didn’t exactly take it for yourself, like you said.”
“Zut alors! Perhaps I should avoid jumping to conclusions,” said Venus. “But, on another pressing matter. Do you have every piece you need?”
“Let me try,” said Twilight. When Milky Way showed her the other three fragments, the unicorn took them in her magic, and tried piecing them together in free space. Even with the newly-found fragment, none of them fit together. “Not even close,” she concluded. She gave them back to Milky Way. “We’ve got a long way to go still.”
“Where to next?” Mercury asked. “I’m itching to get going!”
“Well, Mars doesn’t seem particularly busy,” the Sun suggested. “Not outside of her planet, anyway.”
“Mars?” Venus asked. “You mean that. . . eccentric artist of the red world?” She shuddered. “I will never understand her fashion choices.”
“C’mon Venus, I’ve seen you in more ridiculous outfits before, and I never complained.” The Sun started making her way to the next orbit. “It’s going to be a long way away – better get a move-on, girls!” With a thrust of her skates, she disappeared down the pathway.
Mercury, not one to turn down a challenge, started a stopwatch and quickly skated after her, overtaking her soon after. That left Venus, the Moon, Milky Way, and Twilight to move together at their own pace. Once Twilight climbed back onto her usual place, they took off together, to catch up with the Sun.
Mercury showed up at a red sandy planet not long after. She stopped and checked her stopwatch. “Six-and-a-half minutes,” she read out. “Either I broke the lightspeed barrier, or time dilation’s playing tricks on me.” She shrugged. “Either way, I’m here and I’ve got a while to wait.” She sat down, leaned her back against the globe, and waited patiently for the others to appear on the pathway.
After several minutes of almost-agonizing boredom, she caught a glimpse of the Sun’s brilliant glow. She sighed in relief, and got up to greet them. “There you are!” she shouted out to them. “I was getting lonely out here without you.”
Eventually the group halted at the planet. “There’s no need to get brash, Mercury,” the Sun replied. “Although. . . you haven’t chased Mars off, have you, sugar?”
“Nope!” Mercury replied. “Haven’t seen her yet either.” She looked around, but couldn’t find anyone. “Might be in her studio for all we know.”
“Her studio?” Milky Way asked. Twilight hopped down from her shoulder. “What does she do, exactly?”
“She is an artisan,” the Moon replied. “The finest in the system, and perhaps the galaxy. Her works have wrought my most unique words.”
“I beg to differ,” Venus opposed.
“What Venus means to say,” the Sun said, “is that Mars’s work tends to be rather. . . weird, if that’s the right word to use. You’ve never seen anything of hers before, and you won’t ever again.”
Can’t be as weird as the surrealist exhibition at the Canterlot Museum of Fine Arts, Twilight thought. Still, I should keep that in mind. “Where is her studio, anyway?” she asked aloud.
“Why, I’m glad you asked!” Without warning, a hatch opened on the northern pole of the planet, and Mars stuck her head out. The first thing Twilight noted about Mars was her neon green complexion, with hair to match, and two thick protrusions on top of her head. Are they eyestalks? Antennae? And just what is she?
“Hey, girls!” she greeted. “And I see you’ve got new friends!” she added, when she noticed Milky Way and a very perplexed Twilight. “Come in, come in!” She gestured them inside, through the hatch.
Twilight struggled to rationalize what she saw next. One at a time, each of the girls climbed inside the hatch and descended into. . . wherever that hole went. And yet, the planet was able to hold much more than its external appearance would suggest. Twilight kept telling herself not to think about the logical leaps it would require for this to work, but her innate urge to understand kept her right on edge. And from the looks of it, it seemed Milky Way was confused as well, though probably not as much as Twilight.
“Well?” Mars asked the holdouts. “Won’t you come inside? There’s plenty of room left!”
Twilight looked at Milky Way, raising an eyebrow. Milky Way simply shrugged, and took Mars’s offer. Twilight went down after her, and Mars shut the hatch behind them.
Twilight looked around and her jaw dropped. This thing’s way bigger on the inside, she thought, and I don’t think we’re in the actual studio yet. Mars wasn’t kidding. And speaking of, she turned her head and got a better look at their host.
Her appearance was unlike any of the other girls she had met, and her outfit didn’t help matters much either. She had on purple skates and skirt, socks striped with two shades of green, an orange fur jacket, and a white shirt. All in all, between her artworks and her appearance, she was definitely without fear.
“So, what brings you all out here to my humble abode?” she asked.
“That would be me, actually,” said Milky Way. “I’m Milky Way, and this is Twilight. We’re looking for pieces of a planetoid that I accidentally broke – ”
“That contained a super evil bad guy who’s trying to suck everything into a black hole as we speak?” Mars finished.
Milky Way and Twilight were spooked. “How did you guess?” Milky Way asked.
“Call it an artist’s intuition,” Mars replied. “And what about you, Twilight? Haven’t seen a unicorn before – well, not in real life!” She giggled. “I’ve got plenty of sculptures of unicorns, though!”
Twilight ignored Mars’s comment. “That’s a long story,” she said. “All that matters is that Milky Way promised me a way back home if I helped her with these planetoid fragments.”
“And she has been a big help, see,” the Sun added. “You should’ve seen her try to get one piece of the puzzle from my star – that was something else!”
“Puzzle?” Mars asked. “What puzzle!?”
“Just a figurative one, I’m afraid,” Twilight said, noting the apparent disappointment on Mars’s face. “We’ve been collecting pieces of the planetoid around this solar system, where according to Milky Way all of them should be. We thought maybe there’d be one here too, around this planet.”
“Well,” Mars said, “I wouldn’t really know anything about that, I’m sorry. But hey! While you’re here, why don’t we take a look inside my gallery?” She put her hand up to a panel on the wall, and firmly pressed it in. A hidden door slid away, and what Twilight saw inside made her wish she was looking at the Canterlot Museum’s exhibits instead – at least that tried to make sense.
Here were shapes Twilight had never seen before – carved or sculpted from a dizzying array of materials. Some were extremely angular, with more edges and corners than she could count. Others were polished to a brilliant sheen, their curves flowing fore and aft. And several more she hadn’t any words for. The best Twilight could do to describe them all was that these were sculptures – and even then, she could be wrong. Still, she kept her mouth shut to avoid embarrassing herself. From what little she knew about Mars, this was likely just the tip of the iceberg that was her gallery.
Her assumption was correct. As she rounded the corner into the next room, she saw this was the painting section. Maybe, she thought. Maybe this isn’t actually paint. And that was to say nothing of what the paintings depicted – some depicted other girls, either the ones she had met so far or ones she had never seen before – perhaps ones I’ll meet at some point. Several more looked like random starfields – one in particular kept her attention for quite some time, as she tried to find whatever pattern it was apparently depicting.
Mars just giggled. “That’s okay – happens a lot with this painting!” Mars turned her attention to it. “I could never get what’s so fascinating with it, though.”
“I’m just trying to find a pattern in it, that’s all,” Twilight answered. “I’m sure the other girls were, too.”
Mars stared blankly at Twilight. Then she burst out laughing. “‘Pattern’?” she asked. “There’s no pattern here – I just threw some paint onto the canvas, literally!” She stopped laughing, trying to catch her breath. “Not everything has to be in order – sometimes it’s just chaos, and it’s no less beautiful that way.”
With this in mind, Twilight looked at it again. Yes, she thought, it does look very chaotic. Any way she looked at it, none of the elements lined up – almost as if this chaos was orchestrated. But if it were, she thought, it wouldn’t be chaos. “Any other sections in your gallery?” she asked Mars.
She pointed at another doorway. “Down there’s where I keep my collages,” she said. “Further beyond’s where I do some “free-hand” writing – the Moon’s probably there right now.” A sharp ding! sounded through the gallery. “Oh! Kiln’s done!” she said. “Gotta go!” She quickly skated off to wherever her kiln was, leaving Twilight alone in the painting section.
Well, let’s just see about her collages, she thought. She dipped her head in and looked around. All with the same trademark Martian uniqueness, these were made from clippings from all sorts of sources Newspapers and magazines, sure – do they even have these things out here? – but she also spotted some with dictionary pages on them. Twilight was a bit disappointed at seeing the remains of a useful tome used in such a manner, but reminded herself that more than one copy was likely to exist somewhere.
At the other end of the section were two doorways – one led to the “free-writing” section, where she thought she could hear the Moon’s signature metric voice talking to herself, and the other was some sort of fashion exhibit. You mean there’s more where that outfit came from!?
Indeed there was – and for a brief moment, Twilight was glad that was the particular outfit Mars chose for herself. There must be a fine line between creativity and presentability, she thought to herself. But she heard the alluring siren’s call of the other section, so she peeled herself away and went to take a look.
What writing Twilight saw had more of an emphasis on ‘free’ than ‘writing.’ She felt like something was wrong with her – is this induced dislexia? Am I having a stroke? Fortunately, the Moon seemed as perplexed as Twilight. “I take it this is not how you normally write?” she asked the Moon.
“Not at all,” the Moon replied. “And yours is not like this?”
“Nope!” Twilight kept looking around her, seeing the writing in several mediums – ink on paper, pressed into clay, even a few ‘verbose’ paintings Mars deemed inappropriate for the other section. “Wonder what they’re all supposed today.”
“Perhaps they’re nothing. Just a load of filler.” The Moon conjured a scroll and showed Twilight. “This is how we always write, for reference.”
Twilight looked at it – “Hey, this is what we also use back in Eq – ” she caught herself before she sent the Moon down that particular rabbit hole – “back where I come from! At least I can read your poëtry, thankfully.”
The Moon smiled – “I suppose that much is true.” She turned back to the writings on the wall.
A legitimately legible sign caught the unicorn’s attention – Ceramics. She did mention attending to a kiln, Twilight thought. Let’s see what she’s thrown together. Twilight followed the sign into the next section.
As expected, there were various pots, plates, bowls, and mosaics on display, in a wide range of shapes, sizes, and colors. No statues here – those must be for the other section, she surmised. She was a bit disappointed that they weren’t sorted out in any meaningful order – Remember Twilight, chaos is okay here. Just live with it.
A moment later, Mars skated right in with a brand-new ceramic creation. “Was that in the kiln?” Twilight asked her.
“Sure was!” Mars replied. She set it down on an empty stand. “It’s a mosaic I’ve been working on for the past day. Made sure to bake it extra hard – some pieces were pretty resistant.”
“Oh, I’ll bet.” Twilight trotted over to where Mars set the mosaic down, gently, making sure she didn’t knock anything over. The design looked abstract, but Twilight was used to that by now, but it also had a certain symmetry to it – one she couldn’t put a hoof on. Then she noticed four pieces on it looked familiar. She looked up to Mars. “Where’s Milky Way?” she asked. “It’s rather important right now.”
“I just saw her in the fashion section, actually!” Mars replied giddily. “Why?”
“Just got a hunch, thanks!” Twilight, without thinking, galloped into the fashion section. “Milky Way? You’d better come in here, quickly!” At least I didn’t knock anything over.
Milky Way forced her attention to Twilight. “What is it?” she asked.
“Just come in here, would you!?”
“Alright, alright – don’t see what’s so important about ceramics.” She skated into the gallery, over to where Twilight was standing and pointing so urgently. “What? Do you like this or something?”
“Not exactly.” Twilight gestured Milky Way to let her whisper into her ear. When she knelt down, Twilight told her, “I’m pretty sure some of those pieces were once a fragment of that planetoid.”
That got Milky Way’s attention. She pulled the already-collected pieces from her pocket and one by one held each one up to the mosaic. When she got to the last piece, her already-pale skin somehow lost even more color. She turned to Twilight. “What are we going to do about this?” she whispered to her. “We can’t just upset Mars!”
“Why?” she shot back. “Is she more sensitive than the Moon?”
“I dunno, but she seems dedicated to her crafts.” Milky Way gestured around her, indicating the rest of the section.
“Then that’s the chance we’ll have to take.” Twilight turned her attention to Mars – only to find she had already left the room. “Well, momentarily. I’ll check the free-writing section.”
“Got it; I’ll go see in the fashion section.” Milky Way and Twilight parted ways right after.
Twilight trotted into the previous section, almost running into but still startling the Moon, whom the pseudo-literature still enraptured. “Say, have you seen Mars lately?” she asked.
“I believe she went into her workshop,” the Moon replied. “Pray tell, why?”
“I’ve got a lead on the next planetoid fragment, but I need to see her about it,” Twilight replied. “Where’s her workshop?”
The Moon pointed into the collage section. “Through this door, and through the next two, past her paintings.”
“Thanks!” Twilight quickly galloped off, ripping through the collages, and the paintings, and up to a door she hadn’t noticed before. On it was a plaque that said:
Mars’s Workshop Do Not Disturb!
No disturbing her, Twilight thought. Well, this hardly counts now, in an emergency. Gently, yet persistently, she knocked her hoof on the door. C’mon, c’mon, open up!
Mars eventually did open her door. She looked around, expecting one of the other girls, but finding none of them. At least she doesn’t look cross, Twilight thought. Then Mars looked down and found the unicorn sitting at the entrance. “Well well, Twilight,” she said. “Can’t get enough of my artwork, can you?” She blocked Twilight from entering. “Can’t let you in,” she said. “Gotta wait until they’re finished, silly!”
“That’s fine, I wasn’t trying to peek,” said Twilight. “Listen, remember what I told you about Milky Way looking for planetoid fragments?”
“Oh yeah!” Mars said. “Didn’t think it was important, though. Why? Did you find a clue here? Oh hello, Milky Way!” she added, as she saw her pull up on her skates, coming from another section.
“Well,” said Twilight, “I think I did better than that – I’ve got good news and bad news. Good news is I think I found a fragment itself in the gallery.”
“Ooh, goodie!” Mars said. She noticed that didn’t exactly light up Twilight – or Milky Way, for that matter. “So what’s the bad news?”
“Bad news is,” Twilight said, “you may have unwittingly broken it up and baked it into your latest mosaic.”
For the first time, Twilight could see Mars genuinely disturbed. “Oh,” she simply said. “Oh honey, oh dear, oh my.” She started making her way out of her workshop, closing the door behind her. “We’d better see if that’s true, and if we can actually fix it. Come on!”
Sticking close behind Mars, Milky Way and Twilight followed the alien girl into the ceramic section, where they found the Sun looking around as well. “Well well,” the Sun purred. “What brings you girls – and pony – all in together?”
Mars wordlessly skated over to her new mosaic. “Twilight said this might have one of those fragments Milky Way’s looking for,” she said.
“Really now?” the Sun asked.
Milky Way pulled out one piece and held it up to the mosaic. “Look familiar?” she asked.
The Sun’s jaw dropped. “Mars, I – ” She quickly caught herself. “I can’t be mad at you, since you didn’t know what it was. I’m just worried about what we’re going to do now. Without it, I doubt we’d be able to stop Black Hole.”
“Perhaps I have a way to solve this.” The Moon at some point had entered the ceramic section.
A moment later, Mercury zipped right inside, somehow without dragging a lot of wind with her. “Heard a bunch of talking in here,” she said. “What’s up?”
“Twilight found the next piece,” the Sun told her. “Unfortunately, it’s baked right into this here mosaic.”
Mercury just shook her head. “Leave it to Mars to work something super important into a work of art,” she quipped.
“A pity too,” said Mars. “That fragment made the whole piece just come together. No other material would have fit here – and believe me, I’ve tried!” She turned back to Milky Way. “Are you sure you need every fragment to stop Black Hole?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, that’s the idea,” she replied. She looked at the mosaic again. “You wouldn’t happen to know a way to piece it back together again, would you?”
“I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” Mars said. “Still, I hope it’s worth destroying the rest of the mosaic.” After a bit of thought, she snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it! I’ll be right back!” And with that, she quickly zipped off through the gallery.
A moment later, she was back, this time with some fresh clay. “As for pulling out the pieces. . . ,” she mused, setting the clay aside.
Twilight lit her horn. “Let me handle that,” she said. She grabbed the pieces in question, and gently tugged on them, testing their brittleness. These feel like they might break before the clay – how is that possible? “How hot was your kiln when you were baking this?” she asked.
“I admit I got pretty frustrated with it, so I eventually cranked it up to its highest setting and left it in for longer,” Mars replied. “Why? Does it show?”
“Oh, it shows alright!” Twilight said. “It’s like concrete, the way you did this. Might have to do some light chiseling around the edges.” She worked her magic around each piece, eroding away just enough clay at the edges to work each piece out, one at a time. When she was done, she deposited all four pieces onto the table, right next to the clay. “There, they’re out.”
“Hmm. . . .” Mars’s artistic talents allowed her to arrange anything into something new, so restoring something would be tricky for her. “How did they originally fit again?” she asked to herself.
Hearing this, Twilight quickly pieced them together in her telekinetic grip. “Like that.”
“I can assist in reinforcing it,” the Moon said, scroll and quill already in hand. “Just speak.”
“Got it!” Using the clay as an adhesive, she gently pieced the fragment back together, in the way the unicorn indicated. Just to be sure, she even applied even more on the outer edges and on the sides – essentially making a new mosaic out of the old. Once she was finished, she held it up to Twilight. “Good enough for you?”
“Looks fine to me,” said Twilight. “Now we just need to bake it. Do you remember the settings from last time?”
“Yes! I’ll be right back!” Mars quickly skated off – to her studio, presumably. She reappeared a moment later. “It’s a smaller piece, and I didn’t use nearly as much clay – so it’ll be just a few minutes, I promise!”
“Alright,” Twilight said, “we’re holding you to it.”
“Honey,” the Sun interjected, “if you’re wondering why that mosaic took so long in the hotbox, I should remind you Milky Way and Twilight here pulled another of those pieces from my star – and another from Venus’s planet, through the acid clouds.” She noted the surprise, and then the realization, on Mars’s face.
“Yeah, these were particularly stubborn,” Mars commented. “Should’ve tipped me off about something.” She sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I had no idea how important this was to you – to us all.”
“That’s okay,” said Milky Way. “Now that we know, we’re mending it right up. You don’t have to worry about a thing – I know you’ve got this.”
As though on cue, the girls heard the ding! of the kiln’s timer. “Exit stage right!” said Mars, and skated out. She returned within the moment, the piece in question still steaming in an oven mitt.
Twilight quickly grabbed it from her grasp, and held it up to her eye. “It’s definitely solid,” she said. She then turned to the Moon. “But just to be sure. . . .”
The Moon took Twilight’s hint. She cleared her throat.
What once was whole is now repair’d anew; With earth and stone, this piece’s mend is true. Its newfound strength shall hold against Black Hole, And with the others, it shall see him through.
Twilight then cast her cyrogenic spell over it, making sure that the clay didn’t crack in the process. Although it wasn’t immediately effective, the Moon’s words made the fragment almost iron-clad. “Right,” she said. “That should do it.”
Mars sighed in relief. “Thought we were sunk for a moment!” she said. “Glad that’s fixed up.” She looked at the now-ruined mosaic. “Actually. . . that doesn’t look bad. In fact, it looks better with the pieces missing.”
“Indeed, c’est magnifique!” Venus said. “Those gaps promise a most peculiar tale, for those who care to listen.”
“Uh. . . yeah, what she said!” Mercury added.
“And another thing,” Mars said. “I. . . whatever it is you’re trying to do, I want to help. It’s the least I could do for the scare earlier.”
“Sounds delightful!” Milky Way said. “We’d be happy to have you with us!”
Oh great, another passenger on our quest. “Oh sure, why not?” Twilight said. “It’d be nice to have another pair of eyes to look around with.”
“Then I won’t let you down!” After a mock salute, she turned and skated out. “Unless you think I have any more fragments down here, I think we should get going.”
“Where to next?” Mercury asked.
“We’re already out here,” said the Sun, “and every inner world has been their fragment recovered. Makes sense we continue outwards, I reckon.”
“Here’s the ladder,” said Mars. “I’ll get the hatch!” She grabbed both sides, and in a gravity-defying maneuver, simply slid up the ladder.
“There’s no way I’m climbing it like that,” Milky Way said.
“Ain’t none of us do that, either,” the Sun said. “Just another of Mars’s quirks.” She went up the ladder, followed by Milky Way and Twilight, who clutched Milky Way’s shoulder even more tightly than usual, lest she fall off.
Mars was waiting for them outside the planet. As Milky Way got back onto the cosmic pathways, Twilight noted Mercury, Venus, and the Moon – in that order – follow them out. Once the Moon climbed out, Mars shut the hatch behind them. “Off to Jupiter, then?” she asked.
“Sure, sugar,” said the Sun. “Oh, and Mercury, before you take off – ” But she was too late – Mercury already left them behind for the next orbit. “I was going to warn her about the Asteroid Belt. Reckon she’ll have to learn that the hard way.”
“Asteroid Belt?” Milky Way asked.
“It’s a field of asteroids surround a celestial body,” Twilight explained. “No idea if it’s around the inner system – or just the next planet.”
“It’s the inner system,” the Sun said. “Though I gotta say, that ain’t bad – but I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised that you know that.” She started skating off. “Let’s get going already!”
The other girls took off after her, leaving the inner system behind them.
“Not yet, sugar,” the Sun replied. “We haven’t even gotten to the Belt yet – though we should be coming up on it pretty soon.”
“Is that it?” Milky Way pointed ahead. “Looks like small specks floating around.”
“Sure is,” said the Sun. “And look on the ground – looks like our friend Mercury might’ve gotten a mouthful of rock. Hey, Mercury!” She waved at the track racer.
Mercury stood up on shaky legs. “I was wondering when you’d get here,” she said. “Guess I should pay more attention to the Belt – it’s constantly shifting around. Even I couldn’t navigate it fast enough.”
“Here’s the secret,” the Sun said. “You’re not navigating it slow enough. Not everything needs to be done quick, honey.”
“Alright, alright, I get it,” said Mercury. “Glad you’re here. Mind leading the way?”
“I’d be right happy to.” Unlike Mercury, apparently, the Sun took the Belt in stride, deftly skirting past countless asteroids, taking an ever-shifting path. Once she reached the outer edge of the Belt, she shouted back, “The path is something you have to look for!”
Venus slipped inside a moment later, but before Milky Way could follow her, Twilight leapt off her shoulder. “I’ve got a better idea,” she said. She lit her horn, pictured a spot next to the Sun at that moment, and cast a teleportation spell. She instantly reappeared at the other side, much to everyone else’s shock.
“Sorry!” she shouted back. “I’ve only got enough magic for myself!” All these asteroids this close together should’ve coalesced into a much larger body by now, she thought. What’s keeping them apart? “I take it this isn’t your first time in the outer system?” she asked the Sun.
“Nope, though it might be Milky’s,” she replied. “The others know their way through – though Mercury, bless her heart, she is a bit reckless when it comes to going through the Belt.”
Mercury apparently took the Sun’s words to heart, since she soon emerged onto the other side – then immediately took off, unhindered by a mass of flying rocks.
Mars was not far behind her, with her arms full of small asteroids that had caught her eye. From what Twilight could tell, none of them were fragments. Oh well.
Venus waltzed out – literally – a few moments later, with Milky Way as her apparent partner. The impromptu dancing lessons had not been lost on her. Twilight leapt back up onto Milky Way’s shoulder. “I’m not getting too heavy for you, am I?”
“Nah, you’re fine.”
“So, now that everyone else is here, minus Mercury,” said the Sun, “let’s get going!”
As they took off together, Twilight had to ask, “So where are we going again?”
“This is where Jupiter usually hangs out,” the Sun explained. “You’ll see she’s very fond of animals. She’s going to love you, I can tell. She’s never seen a unicorn before – at least, I think so – nor any talking animal. And you’re both of those things!”
Oh, like I need any more reminding of that. “How much further?” Twilight asked.
“Just a bit further aways,” the Sun replied. “Just hang tight!”
After a few minutes of surprising silence – I guess it’s best not to talk when you’ll be interrupted pretty quickly – the girls pulled up to their destination, where Mercury was already impatiently waiting for them.
To say Twilight was stunned would be quite the understatement indeed. For starters, this planet was huge – easily surrounding her entire field of vision, with enough of itself to spare.
Its orbit was also littered with several dozen satellites of all different sizes and shapes – some appeared to have been captured from the Belt. Each one, however, was inhabited by an animal – she saw dogs, cats, birds, fish, and some more unusual choices. All of them had their heads sealed inside helmets, presumably to breathe, but left the rest of their bodies exposed to the vacuum.
So animals do exist out here, Twilight thought – but why are they afforded this protection, while I’ve gotten by without it? After a moment of thinking, she just chalked it up to her magic sustaining her. Magic, as usual. Right.
Twilight took a cursory glance at the Moon, and saw she was somewhat uncomfortable being here, with her face withdrawn inside her hair. Twilight then understood it might have been a crisis of some sort – Being the Moon herself, and seeing these animal-inhabited satellites here. . . oh dear.
And there, upon the top of the planet – Twilight really had to crane her head to see that far up – was their next girl, who appeared to be deep in meditation. Probably doesn’t want to be disturbed right now, Twilight thought – even though we’re going to have to anyway.
“Hold on, I’ll get her attention,” the Sun said. She started skating her way up to the planet’s north pole.
“She seems to be really good at that, isn’t she?” Twilight asked aloud.
“You have no idea,” Mercury told her. “Just like she’s the center of this system, she likes to be the center of attention.”
“She seems rather restrained for an attention-seeker,” Milky Way commented. “I wonder if it’s to do with Black Hole.”
Mercury shrugged. “Eh, likely, if it’s important enough.”
Twilight turned her attention back onto the girl – Jupiter, she remembered – and saw that, while the Sun did indeed rouse her from her meditation, she didn’t seem to mind that much, and was in fact glad to see the Sun this far from her star. Even with all these animals, Twilight thought, is she really that lonely?
The Sun and Jupiter both started making their way down to the rest of the group, where Twilight could get a better look at Jupiter. Somehow she looked like what the unicorn expected – flowing, loose-fitting clothes, a small red bindi between her eyes, and a great big head of hair, and very smooth movements – where Venus’s dancing was meticulously orchestrated, Jupiter was more free-flowing and natural.
“Hey girls,” she greeted, “good to see you drop by again. And I see you brought a new friend?”
“Well, just here in passing,” Milky Way said. “I’m Milky Way, and this is Twilight – ”
“Is that a horse?” Jupiter interrupted, her attention focused all on Twilight. “Wait, scratch that, is that a unicorn?”
Twilight sighed. “Yes, I’m a unicorn,” she snarked. “I can talk, my horn is real, and it can do magic. Anything else you want to know?”
“Never knew you unicorns existed,” Jupiter said. “Maybe Mars was onto something after all. . . .” She finally turned back to Milky Way. “Where did you rescue her?” she asked.
“She’s not a rescue,” replied Milky Way. “I mean, she kinda is. . . or, well, she will be soon enough. One of Twilight’s magic spells went wrong and she ended up stranded out here – at least, that’s how I understand it.”
Sure, let’s go with that. “I promised Milky Way I’d help her if she could find me a way back home,” Twilight said. “That’s really all why I’m here.”
“Why go back to your old home?” Jupiter asked Twilight. “I can find you a home somewhere in the galaxy – or you can live with me if you’d like.”
“I’ll be fine, thank you,” Twilight said. “Besides, we have a much more serious problem at hand.”
“Can’t be more serious than a little lost unicorn,” Jupiter insisted.
Twilight rolled her eyes. “You see,” she said, “Milky Way here accidentally touched a planetoid that she shouldn’t have, which freed someone named Black Hole, who is now trying to squeeze the universe back down into a singularity – nothing, if you will.”
Milky Way sighed. “Look, I didn’t want to alarm you too much, but I guess Twilight beat me to it.” She pulled the five fragments from her pocket and showed them to Jupiter. “These are all the fragments of his planetoid that we’ve collected, and I know for sure they’re all here in this system.”
“The Sun said that you might have one here,” said Twilight. “Have you captured any new asteroids lately?”
“I can’t say I have, love,” Jupiter asked. “But don’t you worry – you’d be first in line to have it. . . .”
Gah, she’s not getting it, is she? “That’s not the point,” she said. “Well, that eliminates one possibility. Has anything landed on the surface of your planet?”
“My planet doesn’t have a surface,” Jupiter said. “It’s clouds all the way down.” I’m sure the gas pressure would still make some kind of solid surface. “Most things that can get in there, they’re pretty much lost forever.”
“I’ve managed to pull fragments out of Venus’s planet, and even the Sun’s star,” Twilight asserted. “I think I can handle your planet just as easily.”
“Didn’t you need our help to do those things?” Milky Way whispered to Twilight.
“She doesn’t need to know that,” she whispered back.
“Oh yeah?” Jupiter asked. “What can you find inside my world?”
Twilight lit her horn, and carefully approached the planet, teleportation spell ready to fire instantly – lest the gravity pull me in. Using the same technique she used with Venus’s planet, she started feeling around – but was hindered by a lack of solid ground. Maybe Jupiter does have a point. Then, by chance, she found what she thought was some tightly-crumpled metal – and with a firm grasp, and a good deal of strength, she pulled it free from its cloud-covered prison. “What am I looking at here?” Twilight asked.
“Oh, I think that used to be a probe sent here from. . . somewhere. Maybe the Moon might know.” Jupiter took it from Twilight’s telekinetic grasp. “I was wondering what happened to it after a while. I hope they got what they wanted in the end.” She gently tossed it back into the planet, and let its gravitational pull and atmospheric pressure do the rest.
She sighed. “Guess I’d better eat crow with what I said earlier – oh, I’m sorry Thebe,” she added, to a crow the others didn’t notice until then. “I didn’t meant to scare you like that.”
A bubble-helmeted crow with a bandaged wing simply cawed out a response.
“Alright, little pony,” said Jupiter, “you’ve got my attention now. You said you had to stop someone named Black Hole?”
“We all do,” said Milky Way, “or else this entire universe goes bye-bye. Or as Twilight keeps saying, ‘compressed into a singularity.’”
“Well, as much as I’d like to be one with the universe,” Jupiter said, “I don’t mean quite literally like that.” She firmly approached the group. “Whatever it is you’re doing, I’d like to help.”
“It’ll definitely take a while for me to go through your planet,” Twilight said. “Maybe we can get some of your. . . friends to help me?”
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Jupiter said.
“And to say nothing about the Belt!” Mars interrupted. “Why don’t we look there, too? It could be anywhere for all we know!”
By Celestia! Twilight thought. As big as this planet is, the Belt is even more massive. Better take care of the planet first, while we still have time. “I call the planet!” she declared.
“Yeah, I figured as much,” Mercury said. “Who’s up for the Belt with me?”
“Shoot, I’m in,” said the Sun.
“As am I,” said Venus.
“Count me in!” Mars chimed in.
“I shall remain with Twilight,” the Moon said.
“So will I,” said Milky Way. “We’ll move to the Belt once we finish our search here – assuming we don’t find anything.”
“Good to know,” Jupiter said. “I’ll bring some of my own pets with me.” She turned to the satellites behind her. “Io! Europa! Ganymede! Callisto! Come on!”
Following this cue, four animals appeared – a dog, a cat, a rabbit, and a ferret – all helmeted in glass bubbles and, unlike the other animals, used jetpacks to get around in the vacuum.
“Io here is really good at sniffing out items,” Jupiter said, indicating the dog. “Just show him one of your pieces, and he’ll go tracking.” Really! Smelling through his helmet! “On the other hand, Callisto is more visual,” she continued, indicating the cat.
“I’d say the fragments are pretty shiny,” Mars said. “Good for Callisto, I imagine?”
“Indeed.” Jupiter indicated the rabbit. “Europa can dig through clouds like nobody’s business. And Ganymede can burrow into even tighter spaces. They can both make it in and out without a problem, unlike most everything else.” She turned to Twilight. “You wouldn’t mind working with them, would you, little pony?”
“No, not at all!” she said. “It’ll be pretty helpful, actually!” Like a certain dragon assistant I miss so sorely.
“Alright girls,” said Jupiter. “Now let’s get searching already!” With these words, all the girls split up into two groups – most went into the Belt, to search out each asteroid for the fragment, a monumental task that frankly needed more people – and the rest searched the planet’s atmosphere.
First, Ganymede and Callisto needed to get a ‘scent’ of the fragment, which Milky Way provided. After that, they both took off for the Belt, to join the other girls.
Twilight, this time, was much more gentle with coaxing through the planet’s clouds. Gotta remember, she reminded herself, smooth, light strokes. Who knows? Maybe you might find the core in all this gas.
As for Europa and Ganymede, they were both ruthless in their exploration. Twilight imagined they knew the planet far better than even Jupiter herself, the way they were going. Once or twice, she heard a shrill yip! as her magic grabbed one of them by mistake. Whoops. Fortunately for her, they were quick to forgive her.
At one point, she found a solid mass. She gave it a strong tug – and it didn’t budge at all. After some prodding, she found it was almost perfectly spherical. Ah, this must be the core, she surmised. I knew it had to be in here somewhere.
Then Twilight heard some rumbling – deep, but very faint. “I wonder what that could be,” she said aloud.
“What what could be?” Milky Way asked her.
“Did you hear rumbling just now?” Twilight followed up.
“Perhaps it is that raging storm of red.” The Moon pointed to their left – and Milky Way’s and Twilight’s jaws dropped.
A great swirling mass of clouds came into view – easily the size of a proper planet, and trumping any satellite in this planetary system. As it rolled into view more and more, the rumbling continued to get more prominent. When Twilight noticed her horseshoes were shaking against her hooves, she quickly scrambled to get on Milky Way’s shoulder.
Say. . . . Twilight continued her search, and this time started combing through the storm. It was. . . an interesting feeling, to say the least. Some clouds in the storm blew so strongly she thought they were solid – only for her to stir them and find they were simply gas. “Ganymede!” she shouted. “Can you find anything in that storm?”
Even though she couldn’t understand Ferret, a few squeaks told her enough – and in her magic, she felt a long, furry creature brush past as he went to town on the storm, somehow not losing his grip on. . . whatever it was he was holding on to.
Without warning, Europa hopped out of the atmosphere, and plunged right into the storm, kicking away clouds without a second thought. As quickly as they reformed their shape, she was kicking them aside again, eventually forming a prominent indentation in the eye of the storm. Twilight thought she could see Ganymede worming through the storm.
“Guess it’s not here,” she said. “Moving on!” She refocused her attention on the rest of the planet. Ganymede and Europa took her cue and abandoned the storm, which eventually started rotating away and out of sight. The rumbling started to subside as well, but the unicorn wasn’t about to hop down onto her own four hooves just yet.
In due time, Twilight had exhausted her efforts in finding the fragment inside the planet – as did Europa and Ganymede, who both emerged unharmed from the planet to rejoin them. She turned to Milky Way. “I guess they could use the extra help in the Belt, huh?” she told them.
“I should agree,” said the Moon. “I itch for something I can do to help.”
“Yeah, me too,” said Milky Way. “I wonder how far they’ve gotten.” They both skated off back to the Belt, which was some distance off.
Mars met them at the edge. “We’ve been looking for a really really long time!” she told them. Despite her words, she didn’t sound the least bit exhausted. “The Belt’s just really big – like, way bigger than even I thought, and I live next door to it, you know?”
Mercury ground her skates to a halt – and unlike Mars, she looked tired. “No luck so far,” she told them. “And I think Io lost the scent. Good thing you’re here to remind him, huh?” She turned to the belt. “Io! Over here, boy!”
Even though Jupiter was his master, Io came jetting up to Mercury. “Io, can you find this for us?” Milky Way extended her hand, with a fragment in the palm.
Io started smelling it – just remember, Twilight thought, he had the scent before, so this is perfectly normal – and dove back into the belt.
“Should we follow him?” Twilight asked.
“I guess we should.” Milky Way, Twilight, the Moon, and Europa went after Io, who had jetted off upspin.
“I’ll go the other way, then!” Mercury took off downspin, still quick, but noticeably slower than usual. Slow enough that Ganymede had no problem catching up with her.
Twilight kept her head pointed down, to keep any particles from flying into her face, looking around with just her eyes for that familiar glimmer. Not long after, they ran into Venus. “I take it you had no luck with the planet?” she asked.
“Nothing there,” Twilight replied. “How about the rest of you?”
“We are empty-handed yet.” Venus pointed further down the Belt. “. . . though I believe the Sun may have a lead with Callisto. She has a better memory than Io, from what I hear. She’s further along upspin.”
“Thanks, we’ll check it out,” Twilight said.
“And another thing,” Venus added. “Would you mind if I borrowed Europa? I’d appreciate another pair of eyes with me.”
Europa didn’t seem to mind – she jetted up to Venus, without any of the others answering first. With the bunny in tow, Venus resumed looking. And Io was apparently not interested in this region of the Belt anyway, so the other girls continued skating upspin.
“Perhaps I should conjure a bit of light pierce the shade,” the Moon suggested. “As much as I prefer the dark, for once it shall not serve me well.”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.” Twilight lit up her horn, and cast an illumination spell. Her horn glowed brighter than ever, in a muted violet color.
“I’ll take anything at this point!” Milky Way said. “What else do you have in mind, Moon?”
The Moon cleared her throat, and recited a brief poëm:
O Light! Inside of Light! Shine clear into the night, A brilliant ball of white – Bring dark into our sight!
When she finished, a ball of light emanated from the palm of her hand. She set it in motion in front of her, and told Milky Way, “Let us continue on.”
“Trying to outshine me, are we?” The Sun had just ran into them, her own brilliant radiance serving as her own illumination. “If y’all needed some more light, why not just ask me? I’m only happy to help.”
“I thought we were splitting up so we’d cover more ground that way,” Milky Way objected. Does ‘ground’ even apply here, where there is none? “Anyway, have you found anything?”
The Sun shook her head. “Nope. And I take it the planet’s bunk, little pony?”
“Right.” Twilight pointed at Io, who was still hard at work sniffing out one asteroid among countless others. “Io apparently lost the scent, so we got him back on track, and we’re just following him wherever he goes.”
“Callisto might need a little reminder as well,” the Sun said. “Here, kitty kitty!” She motioned her to come closer.
Which Callisto eventually did, gently jetting in on just her momentum. Milky Way showed her an already-collected fragment, turning it this way and that in Twilight’s horn-light to show its sparkle.
Callisto’s pupils widened, fascinated by the iridescent coloring, and at once she returned to the search, keeping her eyes opened and tuned into her surroundings, occasionally pawing one of the smaller ones. Twilight was watching her, but she didn’t appear to find anything among them.
“We should be good to go for a while,” the Sun said. “Thanks, and good luck yourselves.”
Without any further delays, Milky Way and the Moon started skating away. Twilight found Io again, much further ahead of them than she thought, still probing around for asteroids. Fascinating that smell still works through this helmet, she thought. But I guess that’s not the strangest physics violation in this universe.
Just as Mars’s planet started to swing into view, Io stopped and started barking, loudly – loud enough to get Milky Way’s attention as well. “Woah woah woah!” she exclaimed. “What’d you find, Io?”
Milky Way skated over to where Io stopped and knelt down. There, where Io’s snout pointed, was the prize they were hunting for for so long – an iridescent fragment of the planetoid. “Good boy, Io!” said Milky Way. “We found what we’ve been looking for!” She grabbed the fragment and added the fine addition to her collection.
Io just barked at Milky Way.
“No, I haven’t seen Jupiter yet,” she replied. How does she understand him? “She might be further along the belt, or even returned to her planet. Why?”
Io whimpered.
“I’m sure she can take care of herself,” said Milky Way. “But if you really want to. . . .” She motioned him to follow. “Let’s go back home!”
Io dutifully followed Milky Way. The Moon just shrugged, and tagged along with the girl and the unicorn. Skating downspin was a lot easier for them – they could easily keep pace with the current that made the asteroids drift, and exit the Belt at their leisure.
Along the way, they found the Sun and Callisto. Once they showed her the fragment, and the other five so the Sun was sure, they tagged along together.
Mercury raced up behind them, with Ganymede holding onto her for dear life – and once they got word that the fragment was found, she breathed a sigh of relief and, for once, kept pace with the girls.Perhaps even her heart needs a rest.
Venus saw the group approaching her and Europa, the latter of whom was still searching, perhaps even more frantically than usual. When they both got the good news, she felt and urge to dance – but restrained herself, admitting that such activities were best done on a clean stage.
And finally, Mars was still at the other end of the belt. Evidentially, at one point she got sidetracked and made herself a pet of her own, an asteroid with a crudely-carved face named “Rocky.” She was just as glad as the rest of them, but was reluctant to abandon Rocky after so long (read: twenty minutes). They compromised and let Mars bring Rocky with them.
When six girls, five animals, and a rock finally arrived back at Jupiter’s planet, the one with her pets was already there, in meditation upon the planet, but otherwise waiting for them. “Hello again,” she said. “I had a feeling that one of you found something and that everyone else was coming back here.” She stood up. “I take it you got what you came for?”
Milky Way held up her prize. “Yep, sure did!” She pointed at the dog. “Io sure was a big help, so thanks for that!”
“Hey, if it helps keep the universe safe and in-balance, then I’m more than happy to oblige. You got enough to stuff Black Hole back into his hole?”
Twilight grabbed the pieces in her magic and started arranging them. Two of them actually fit together – amazing how cleanly it broke! – but they were still quite short of what they needed. “Nope,” she said.
She slid down to meet them. “Well, what do you say? You keep looking for the rest, but you have five more join your posse. That’s five more pairs of eyes to search through a righteous system.”
“Five?” Milky Way asked. “But there’s one of you!”
“I know,” she said. “But don’t you think my favorite pets are down and out just yet.”As though on her cue, Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto all appeared before them – and amazingly, not a single one of them looked the least bit tired. Jupiter raised an eyebrow. “So,” she said. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”
The girls all looked to one another, daring another to answer. Then Twilight spoke. “It would be a lot to keep track of,” she said, “but if you can keep an eye on your pets on the go, we’d appreciate it.”
“That won’t be a problem at all,” Jupiter assured, in a suave tone. She adjusted her skates. “How about we pay Saturn a visit?”
“Ugh, Saturn.” For once, Venus broke her usual façade of civility. “Don’t get me wrong, mon amie, I do enjoy what she uses for mixing, but I think it’s a tad bit. . . unsophisticated?” she said, after a bit of thought. “Are you sure we have to see her?”
“C’mon, Venus, Saturn’s music isn’t so bad!” Mercury was clearly roaring to go. “It’s been forever since I spent some time with her. Let’s go already!”
Nobody else seemed to have any objections, so without further ado, the girls and animals took off into ever-deeper space, with a pumped-up Mercury taking the lead, and a reluctant Venus trailing behind.
“It’s taking a while to get there,” Twilight told Milky Way. “Are we there yet?”
“The next planet out here has a ton of rings around it,” the Sun explained. “We can’t possibly miss it, honey.” She checked behind the group. “Gotta keep up, Venus,” she said. “You wouldn’t want to miss out on helping us, would you?”
“No, I suppose not,” Venus replied, though she still sounded unsure of herself. “I never have any idea how to dance properly in her club.”
“That’s the beauty of it!” Mars said. “There is no right or wrong way to do it – when you’re in the mosh pit, you just do you!”
Venus sighed. “Of course the artistic type would say that.” Finally, she caught up with the other girls. “But fine. As long as we make this quick, I could tolerate her, ahem, style.”
As the girls skated along, Twilight thought she could feel some vibrations in her hooves. Unlike with Jupiter’s planet’s red storm, it wasn’t random, disordered – no, this time there was a steady rhythm to it. Is it affecting my heartbeat? she asked herself. “Milky Way,” she asked aloud, “do you feel that too?”
“Yeah,” she said, “and so can the rest of us, I’ll bet.”
“Is it also affecting your heart?” Twilight followed up.
“Not really,” Jupiter responded. “If it did, some of Saturn’s faster beats would not exactly be good for you. You’re just not feeling your own pulse right now, that’s all.”
“We’re getting closer,” the Sun said. “And I’ll bet we’ll find Mercury lost in the excitement.”
“We should keep focus,” the Moon reminded the others, “lest we also find ourselves distracted by the heavy bass.”
And lo, there it was – a great ringed world. “That must be it!” Twilight declared. “Straight up ahead!” I guess the Sun was right after all – hard to miss a ring system as dense as this.
“Admittedly,” Venus said, “this music is more tolerable for me.” She sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”
And in the rings, they all looked, countless aliens were dancing to the music the DJ was outputting. This one’s beat they could hear even before they could arrive, as Twilight figured. Say, she wondered, aren’t these the same aliens that were watching the Sun sing? She looked to the Sun – guess she either doesn’t mind the competition, or she’s too preoccupied with our quest.
“Later, girls!” Mars quickly darted off to join her alien brethren in the mosh pit. As the girls watched, it turned out the crowd was actually revolving around the planet – meaning the rings were, too.
Which explained why they hadn’t seen Mercury until now. Once she revolved back into view, she called out to the girls, but the music drowned out her voice.
“Say that again!?” the Sun shouted back.
Mercury waited until she rotated closer to them. “I said, ‘You gonna join me or what!?’” she called out.
“Maybe later!” Milky Way shouted. “Right now, we have a job to do – where do we begin?”
“Is it likely it’s in the planet itself?” Twilight asked Milky Way. Gah, gotta raise my voice now. “No luck with Jupiter’s, but you never know.”
“Do you need Ganymede’s help?” Even Jupiter, ever the peaceful one, had to raise her voice here.
“No, I think I’ve got the hang of it!” Twilight hopped down. “Besides, this one’s a lot smaller than last time.” She cast a teleportation spell, to avoid disturbing the crowd – not that they noticed the girls – and reappeared at the base of the planet.Huh, it’s actually a lot quieter down here, she thought – though she still noted a heavy bass. She kept her horn lit, and with her magic, started combing through the clouds. Okay, here’s the core, just gotta work my way outwards – better be careful not to bother Saturn.
If anything, it turned out, Saturn may have been bothering her instead – the vibrations were dampened by the atmosphere in the northern hemisphere of the planet, so while it was no issue looking in the southern hemisphere, the northern was far too turbulent for her to find anything conclusive. Guess I don’t have the hang of it after all. Twilight gestured Jupiter to come closer, with her pets.
“Change your mind?” Jupiter asked.
“Yeah, could I borrow Ganymede again?” Twilight indicated the northern hemisphere with her hoof. “The vibrations from her music are so strong, I can’t get a good read on the upper half of the planet. Can he manage it?”
Jupiter chuckled. “It’s nothing he’s never handled,” she said, “if my Great Red Spot has anything to say.” She whistled – somehow not getting anyone else’s attention – and Ganymede came jetting right up, chittering at Twilight. “He said he’s willing to help,” Jupiter translated.
Well, that’s good to know, I suppose. “Can you handle the northern half?” Twilight asked him. “I’ll do the southern half. Try not to bother Saturn, if you can avoid it.”
Ganymede gave a mock salute, and dove right into the clouds. Twilight lit her horn and resumed her search – this time, I can fully concentrate on one part. Twilight, though she didn’t realize it, was keeping pace almost perfectly with Ganymede’s efforts. Within five minutes – my, time does fly here, Twilight thought – Ganymede popped his helmeted head out the equator, with a shrug. Empty-pawed, I guess. “I don’t have anything, either,” she told him. “Now what?”
“Guess we’ll have to get down and dirty with the dance club,” Jupiter suggested, as the three went back to rejoin the group.
Twilight noted a rather large satellite orbiting some distance away from the planet. “Any luck over there?” Twilight asked.
“Venus already borrowed Europa to help check it out,” Jupiter told her. “They did find a probe all the way out here, but otherwise, no dice.”
Hmm. . . not the planet, not the satellite. . . . Her eyes glanced over to the alien-swarmed rings of the planet – and a dread set over her. “You think it might be on the rings?” she asked aloud.
“Reckon that might be the case,” the Sun said. “Soon as we get Mercury’s and Mars’s attention, we can start looking.”
“To speak of which – ” the Moon pointed – “here comes the speedster.”
Mercury turned her head and looked straight at the unicorn. Phew! Twilight motioned Mercury to get off the dance floor, which she did, albeit with some reluctance. “Got a lead on the next piece of the puzzle?” she asked.
“I think so,” said Twilight. “Already tried the planet, and Europa already looked through that one satellite – ” she pointed at it with her hoof – “so that just leaves the rings. Which is also why I pulled you off the dance floor – I’m pretty sure you might break it by stepping on it.”
“Speaking of breaking fragments – there’s Mars!” Without warning, Mercury dashed over to where she was, and yanked her right off the rings. “Hey!” she protested. “What gives?”
“Gotta pull yourself together, Mars,” Mercury said. “Twilight here says the fragment might be on the rings – and if we’re really lucky, neither of us will have broken it already.”
“Hey!” she said. “No need to remind me of that.”
“Alright, I’m sorry.” Mercury cleared her throat. “So you ready to have a look around?”
Mars sighed. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. Where do we start?”
Milky Way spoke up. “I’m thinking we’d better split ourselves up on the rings, and look in a small area. Should save us some time and go a lot faster than if only one or two of us did it. What do you think?”
“Sounds good to me!” said Mercury. Mars simply nodded next to her.
Nobody else seemed to object – certainly not Venus, surprisingly. Twilight leapt up onto Milky Way’s shoulder to get a head count of the group. “Let’s see, counting me, and Jupiter’s pets separately, there are twelve of us.” She pointed to the rings. “I can space us out more or less evenly across the surface of the rings, and we’ll spend, let’s call it, five minutes picking through it.” She sighed. “I have a feeling it’ll be like looking for a needle in a haystack, but right now it’s the best chance we’ve got. Let’s begin.”
With a bit of magic, Twilight put up twelve hovering dots, equidistant from each other, around the rings, almost like a clock – Actually, do they have clocks? Do they even know what a clock is? – then leapt down from Milky Way and took the spot immediately in front of the DJ – where, unfortunately, the music’s volume seemed to be the strongest. Milky Way went to her immediate left, and Callisto to her right.
“Excuse me! Coming through! Sorry!” she kept saying as she landed firmly on the rings. But the aliens never minded her presence – or they did, but let her pass with such smoothness that they were almost like a liquid. She found she stood much taller than these aliens – unlike Mars, who towered over her, these only came up to her barrel.Right, this should be interesting.
But right away, Twilight ran into a problem. The aliens’ dancing was so chaotic, it essentially masked anything beneath it. No matter how slowly she combed through the rings, she seemed to lose track quickly of where she looked before. Out of curiosity, Twilight lifted a hoof up, noted the particular pattern in which the fur around her fetlocks grew, then gently set it back down into the crowd. Her eyes widened as she realized she couldn’t even see her hoof anymore.
She was starting to realize her task was hopeless. What chance did she have of finding the fragment itself here? And to add insult to injury, the aliens only gave her just enough space for her to set her hooves down on the rings – and worse, the music’s beat was changing unpredictably, and with it the aliens’ dancing. I wonder how Milky Way and the others are doing. . . .
“Can you hear me!?” Speaking of which. . . . Milky Way appeared to be shouting to Twilight’s left. She wasn’t hard to find, considering she stood head, shoulders, and knees above the alien crowd, but even then Twilight had trouble hearing her over the music. This is partly why I don’t like parties. . . .
“Barely!” Twilight shouted back. “Any luck!?”
“I’m not finding anything here!” Milky Way shouted. “It’s way too dense for me to see!”
“I’m having trouble too!” Twilight said. “And I’m a lot closer to the ground!” Was that the right word? she pondered. Whatever, she got what I meant. “We’d better pull out here, all of us!” She motioned Callisto to come along, then with a bit of force, tried to lift herself off the surface of the rings – only to come back down. I guess gravity applies here. So with Milky Way’s help, she managed to break free from the rings’ gravity and regroup some distance away. One by one, the other girls and animals gave up and reconvened.
Venus was idle, trying to get her hearing back. Mars’s antennae were still shaking a bit – is that from the music? Or her excitement? Mercury was a bit reluctant to stop looking, but gave up last of all when she realized everyone else did as well. Jupiter was busy comforting Io, which apparently did not take well to one track in particular. The other pets seemed unfazed. The Sun seemed to have shouted herself almost hoarse, and the Moon seemed too embarrassed to show her face, at least for the time being.
“Okay,” Twilight said, “I’ll be the one to say it – that was a bad idea, worse than we thought.”
“Hey,” Mercury said, “we didn’t know the crowd would be this dense – or this dense.”
Mars rolled her eyes. “It’s in our nature to dance close together. Don’t blame me for it.”
“Was that why I caught you getting sidetracked?” the Sun asked her.
Mars blushed. “. . . maybe?” She shook her head. “That doesn’t matter now. We need to take another avenue of attack if we’re going to make any progress here. Any ideas?”
“Why not the obvious?” Venus finally spoke. “We ask the DJ herself – if only to turn the music down so I – we can finally concentrate.”
Twilight rolled her eyes at Venus, then looked up at Saturn, the DJ in question – it was even emblazoned on the front of her turntables – mixing the music at her place on the north pole of the planet. Even she had to admit, such skill she had! She knew what music worked together, switched between them flawlessly, and never once let a lull appear. And all the while, the alien crowd were dancing tirelessly. So why does Venus go on about her music? she wondered. Other than the volume, there’s nothing really wrong with it here.
And not only that, the unicorn noticed – she had on several rings, including those through piercings in her body. Her ears and wrists were obvious enough choices, but as she squinted, she could see her nose was, too. Fitting for a ringed world, she thought. But just how far did she go with this?
Twilight looked up at Milky Way. “Think we’ll have any luck asking her?” she suggested.
Milky Way shrugged. “It’s worth a shot, if you ask me. Anyone else?” she asked the others. “Any other ideas?”
Silence from the other girls. Even the animals didn’t object.
“Alright, let’s have a talk with her.” Once Twilight climbed back onto Milky Way’s shoulder, and Jupiter told her pets to stay put, the girls all took off back to the planet, past the rings – I wonder how they could resist its gravity, and I couldn’t – and landed on top of the planet proper, behind the amplifiers. Almost at once, Twilight’s very core was hit with the heavy bass of the amplifiers. At least it’s not as loud here. . . .
Milky tapped Saturn’s shoulder. Saturn stopped mixing for a moment, turned around to face them, and lifted one ear of her headphones free.
“You think you could help us with something?” she asked Saturn – not nearly as loudly as before, though she still had to strain herself.
Saturn raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t say anything. Amazing she can still hear us, Twilight thought. But for how much longer at this volume? The she looked around, and saw six more girls facing her. Her reaction was like a needle scratch on a record – complete with the actual thing.
“We’re looking for this fragment of a planetoid, and we think it might be somewhere in the mosh pit.” Twilight pointed down to where the aliens were still dancing, tirelessly, ceaselessly, unperturbed by what was happening.
“We’re trying to stop someone who broke free from a planetoid and is now planning on collapsing the universe back into a singularity, and we need your help finding a fragment,” the Sun further explained. “Could you clear the rings so we can find it, sugar? We won’t be long, we promise!”
Saturn looked to where Twilight pointed. Then she looked back to the others and, with a smile that bled confidence, grabbed a record. She slotted it onto a turntable, started playing it, and turned the already loud volume up even louder. Hey, wait a second, Twilight wondered. Isn’t this one of the Sun’s songs? The Sun’s sudden urge to dance confirmed it for her.
As though on cue, the aliens started parting away in a gap in front of the DJ, finally allowing them to get a good look at the unobstructed rings. Mercury slid down the planet to investigate.
Nothing.
Before anyone else could object, Saturn was already changing music again. As before, the aliens cleared a new spot, this time to their left. No dice here either, as Mars could see.
Saturn was already changing the music – apparently even she understood the gravity of the situation – and this time the aliens were clearing several spots around the rings. The girls all split up again, each one looking here and there. Even despite this, everyone both came up with nothing.
But Saturn was not one to give up that easily. Seemingly with the skills of an eternity of practice, she grabbed up two new records, and changed out both turntables so smoothly Twilight at first thought it was still the same tune.
By all means it should have been cacophony – and yet Saturn made it work all the same, changing tracks with such frequency and dexterity as to make an ad-hoc beat. The aliens somehow interpreted this as to get into more or less a single column in front of the turntables – and as they did so, they exposed enough of the rings that finding the fragment was a cinch.
Everyone was astounded at how Saturn was able to wrangle the crowd into such a neat tower. But then she started urgently pointing down at the rings, her eyes widened, as if to say, “I can’t hold them like this forever, you’ve got to hurry!”
I wonder if she’s a mute, Twilight thought. Oh well, time for me to pull my weight. She lit her horn, and went over the rings in a band of magic, from one end of the tower. About two-thirds of the way around, she felt a familiar jagged edge. Bingo! She snatched it up in her telekinetic grip and brought it up to her. “We’ve got it!” she announced.
Saturn took this cue and settled into a slow, lo-fi beat – a lull, by her apparent standards – and let the stacked-up aliens fall back down and spread themselves across the rings. Once the other girls reconvened by Saturn, they all breathed a sigh of relief. “That. . . was. . . exhausting,” the Sun said between breaths.
“I’m not even winded!” Mercury bragged. But even she had to sit down for once. “Okay, maybe a little.”
“I must say,” Venus eventually admitted, “I could find myself enjoying this music more often. . . Even if I cannot dance in such a state. Zut alors!”
Finally, the Moon spoke up for the first time in a while. “Of all the trials we have faced,” she said, “this may have been the hardest. What say you?”
Jupiter’s pets made their way back to their master. “I dunno, Moon,” Jupiter said, as she stroke Callisto. “Searching the Belt really wore me out.”
“Regardless, we found the next fragment,” Mars quipped. “And if you ask me, we had fun doing it, too!”
Saturn had gotten up from the turntables and joined them. As the aliens were dancing, she pulled out a small slab, adorned with what looked like buttons – something Twilight had never seen before, and doubted she would since – and pressed one of them. “You should’ve said something sooner if you needed my help!” it said.
Guess I was right, Twilight assessed – she is a mute. Nothing I can’t work with. “Sorry,” she said. “We saw you were deep in concentration, and we didn’t want to bother you – at least, I didn’t want to.”
“I’m willing to stop mixing for the time being if it’s that serious,” Saturn said through her apparatus. “In the meantime, can I ask who you are? Never seen a unicorn in my life.”
“I’m Twilight Sparkle,” she said. “This is Milky Way – she’s also from out of town.” Milky Way just waved. “The others you probably already know from around the system.”
“Yeah, and each of them has their own taste in music,” Saturn said. “Venus, for one, is kinda picky – doesn’t like the faster upbeat mixes.” She noted Twilight’s fixation on the apparatus. “Oh, you’re probably wondering about this.” She tapped on it. “This is my cell phone. I use it mainly for talking to the other girls, whenever I don’t let my mixing talk for me.”
Cell. . . phone? Twilight pondered. This universe is indeed full of wonders. Better not get sucked into another lecture, and waste even more time. “Something wrong with your voice?” Twilight asked.
“Can’t really talk no more.” She waved her hand. “It’s a long story. But as long as I have this with me, it’s no big deal.” She turned to Milky Way. “Milky Way, was it? Tell me more about this Black Hole friend of yours.”
“He’s not exactly my friend,” Milky Way explained. “Nor is he yours. He’s trying to compress the universe into a black hole, and if we don’t stop him in time, well. . . none of us would have a system to come back home to.”
“Oh yeah, that guy,” Saturn said. “Heard rumors about him on some of my tours. Thought he was sealed away for good. So what gives?”
“Me,” Milky Way confessed. “I accidentally touched the planetoid he was held in, and set him loose.”
Saturn stood back up. “Then what are we waiting for? The longer we wait, the closer Black Hole will get to his goal.” She made her way through the alien crowd – which for once parted like the Red Sea to let her through. “I think it’s time we blow this scene,” she said. “You dig?”
Twilight looked over to Milky Way. “Any more planets in this system?” Please tell me this is the last one. . . .
“We’ve got three left,” the Sun replied.
Twilight groaned. “Alright, let’s just get them over with.” I swear, if it’s another gas giant. . . .
Once Jupiter called her pets back, the entire group went on their merry way – with Mercury taking the lead as usual.
“Please tell me the next planet isn’t some madhouse party,” Twilight begged.
“Don’t worry none, sugar, it can’t be further from that if you tried,” the Sun reassured. “Though actually, it might get boring for you.”
Boring? Does that mean. . . ? “What do you mean by that?” Twilight asked.
“I mean there’s not really much to do with Uranus,” the Sun said. “Well, unless you’re a bookworm like her or something.”
Twilight’s eyes widened. Finally, something for me to read! A sense of normalcy in this cosmic madness! “Well, I’m sure there’s nothing for me to worry about,” she said. “Sounds like what I normally do back where I come from.” Still need to find a way home. Let’s just see if this ‘Uranus’ knows a thing or two about that.
“All you normally do is study from books?” Milky Way asked. “You sound a bit old for school, if you ask me. Don’t you have any friends?”
Twilight rolled her eyes at the question. “I can get by without friends just fine, thank you very much.”
“Even Uranus has us as her friends,” Mars said. “Aren’t we your friends, too? Isn’t Milky Way?”
How do I answer this without upsetting them? Twilight pondered. I’ve stuck with them for what feels like hours now. . . but how long does somepony need to know somepony else to be friends? And like it or not, I have nothing to do without them. It’s the least I could do –
“Your calm speaks volumes,” the Moon commented. “Yet you vie for a way home. I completely understand.”
Eh, perhaps it’s better that way. Twilight fixed her attention back ahead of herself – and her earlier fears were confirmed. She sighed. It was another gas giant, ringed as well – but unlike Saturn’s planet, these rings were tilted on their sides – and as Twilight got closer, she saw they were filled not with aliens, but with books, an enormous infinite bookshelf constantly revolving.
And there on top of the planet, shelving a book and grabbing another, was their next contact – Uranus. Unlike the other girls so far, she looked far more responsible, in her smart shirt, vest, and skirt. The only thing that stuck out as odd was her apple insignia.
Twilight rolled her eyes. She remembered her first day of attending Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. As was tradition for foals like her, she brought an apple with her, thinking it would impress the teacher. Unfortunately, her first teacher happened to be Professor Top Marks, who didn’t take too kindly with a filly Twilight bringing food into the classroom. Oh well, she thought, live and learn.
“Hold on, there’s something I need to do,” said Jupiter. She and her pets fell behind the rest of the group.
“Is there something I’m missing?” Twilight asked.
“Uranus doesn’t like having animals near her books,” Venus said. “I don’t know how well she’ll take to you, but you seem responsible yourself.”
Here’s hoping for the best, Twilight thought.
Mercury popped out from behind the planet. “There you are!” she said. “I’ve been here for hours already – bored out of my mind!”
“Oh hush, Mercury,” Uranus said. “There’s no reason not to study something when you’re waiting for your friends. Speaking of which, hello there!” This one was clearly well-read, as Twilight surmised from her language.
Finally, someone who understands me! Twilight thought. If I am going to make friends out here, it’ll definitely be her.
“Hey Uranus,” the Sun said. “Got a second? It’s something rather important.”
“As important as reading?” Uranus asked. Well. . . .
“Probably even more important than that, sugar,” the Sun replied. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Black Hole.”
Uranus snapped her fingers. “Yes, of course! I have a book about him right here somewhere. . . .” She reached up to her ringed bookshelf and gave it a spin. A dizzying array of books rushed by her – more books than Twilight could read in a lifetime, or even count in a lifetime – and after a moment, she stopped the wheel of knowledge with her hand, and unshelved a rather thick tome. She flipped it open to one apparently bookmarked section, and started reading aloud:
When the Universe was birthed in the Big Bang, gravity did not exist at first. It was far too hot and far too small to allow for empty space. Once the Universe had cooled and expanded to a sufficient degree, matter had condensed into the first stars.
Some of these stars went supernova eventually after many years, the remains of which formed future stars. This cycle continued for several æons. . . .
Everyone else was starting to tire from Uranus’s reading, but not Twilight – this was something she lived for, studying under Princess Celestia. Though she kept wondering about several aspects of the text – how exactly do these girls keep track of time? for instance.
But then Uranus eventually got to one section that particularly caught Twilight’s attention:
. . . Following his imprisonment by the Local Group, the Universe was able to expand undisturbed. However, should Black Hole ever be loosed upon the cosmos again, the consequences will be dire, and swift – he may absorb the entirety of the universe inside of a single day.
Everyone was shocked, especially Milky Way of all people. “That bad, huh?” she said.
“Indeed.” Just as Uranus was about to reshelve the book, she turned around and looked at Milky Way again. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen either of you here before.”
“I’m Milky Way,” she said, “and this is Twilight Sparkle. We’ve been looking for fragments of a planetoid that I may have destroyed by accident.”
“Wait. . . is this why the Sun brought up Black – ugh.” Uranus rested her head in her hands. Her disappointment was palpable, and immeasurable. I hope we didn’t ruin her day, Twilight worried. We still need her help. “How long ago did you break him free?” Uranus asked Milky Way.
“Um. . . .”
Uranus gripped Milky Way by the shoulder. Twilight hopped off, startled by her. “How long ago!?” Uranus demanded.
“I think. . . .” Milky Way struggled to remember exactly how long ago this happened. “About eight hours ago?” she finally answered. Eight hours? Twilight thought. I’ve been awake for almost forty now, and I’m not even a little tired. Guess space will do that to you.
“I’m glad you got right on the problem at least,” Uranus said. “It would be a shame if it was closer to eight weeks ago.” She looked down to Twilight. “Though I would have to ask you not to bring your pets here, Milky Way,” she said. “I’d appreciate it.”
“Hey, I am not her pet!” Twilight protested. That’s the third or fourth time someone’s said that. Wonderful.“And honestly, I’m not even supposed to be out here. The only reason I’m here with them is so Milky Way could find me a way home. That’s all!”
Uranus seemed surprised. After considering her first question, she asked, “How are you even talking?”
Seriously!? Maybe we won’t be as close as I thought. “Is that really the point right now?” Twilight shot back. “We’ve got Black Hole on the loose, doing who knows what, and you’re wondering about me!?”
“Gah, very well.” Uranus sat back down on her planet. “Have you all come to me for more information on Black Hole?” she asked them. “What I’ve read to you isn’t be the only thing I have about him.”
“Not exactly, but thanks anyway.” Twilight turned to Milky Way. “Show her what we have so far.”
Milky Way pulled out the planetoid fragments. Uranus got up and leaned in closer. “I’d say you’ve done quite a bit in eight hours,” she said. “It’s still not complete, not from what I can tell, but I appreciate the haste. Wait,” she said. “Is this one broken?” She held up the clay-repaired fragment.
Mars blushed. “It’s a long story.”
“Regardless,” Milky Way said, “we thought you might have another of these pieces – which is why we came here.”
“Right, but. . . all of you? Together?” Uranus kept pointing at her peers.
“They insisted they all help us,” Twilight said. “And considering how much effort went into imprisoning Black Hole the first time, the help is truly appreciated.” This was meant more for them than Uranus.
“I’m not sure if I do have any fragments here,” Uranus told Twilight, “but considering how small they are, you’re welcome to check here. How do you usually work?”
Twilight grinned. Showtime. “I’m glad you asked!” She lit her horn – prompting an “Is that bioluminescent?” comment from Uranus – and aimed it at her planet. “I’m going to use my magic to search below the clouds here,” she said. “If it’s anything like the last two gas giants we were at – ”
“Actually,” Uranus interrupted, “mine is an ice giant. Not nearly as much gas as, say, Saturn.”
Saturn rolled her eyes. She looked like she was about to say something, but didn’t – not through her mouth, nor through her phone.
Uranus shot her a glare. “In any case,” she said, “you don’t have that much of an atmosphere to look through – so I suggest taking your time to be thorough.”
“Got it, thanks!” Well, this should be a lot easier then. Twilight found a rather broad, if icy, surface beneath some moderately-dense cloud cover – so when she gave that a once-over, her horn went out. “Nothing,” she said. “Worth a try, I suppose. But that does leave your rings.”
“My rings? Oh!” Uranus looked up at her revolving bookshelf. “Actually, if there is a fragment here, it could very well be nestled inside one of those books.” She put a finger to her chin. “But I wonder which one?”
Oh yeah – now’s my big payoff.“I guess we’ll have to read them all to find it,” she said, with barely-veiled excitement. “Why don’t we get started right now, while we still have time?”
Save for Twilight and Uranus, everyone groaned at the unicorn’s prospective. “Oh, come on!” Mercury in particular said.
But neither Twilight nor Uranus were perturbed by the reaction. “Like Twilight said,” Uranus said, “what time can we spare? Milky Way says he’s been free for eight hours now, but sixteen hours is still not a lot of time. We’ll get to searching, all of us, but I ask – do be careful with them. Oh, and Twilight,” she added to the unicorn, “please don’t use your teeth on the spine if you can avoid it.”
Use my magic. Easy enough. “Got it!” she told her. Without another word, Twilight grabbed a book in her telekinetic grasp from the revolving shelf. She noted the others grabbing books as well, all with varying degrees of reluctance, on a spectrum from Uranus to Mercury. She glanced at the title of the book she had pulled out: Joannis Kepplerí Harmonicés mundí librí V. Huh, she thought, never seen something like this before. She opened it and started reading.
Or tried to, at least. This book was all in Latin. Though she could follow along with the illustrations, they were very sparse. “Ugh,” she muttered to herself, giving up and simply flipping through the pages without a thought to the content – careful, she reminded herself, this book looks very old. Don’t want to damage it. But alas, she came up empty-hooved, so she shelved it and grabbed another one.
This one was titled The Art of War – at least, that’s what the cover said. The interior was wholly unreadable to her, even moreso than the Harmonicés mundí. How does Uranus understand all this? Twilight had to ask herself. Equestria doesn’t have anything like these. . . pictures as writing, I guess. She shrugged, shelved it, and moved on.
Here in front of her was a collection of “Rubáiyát” – written by one Omar Khayyám. This time, the interior was easy for her to understand – they were all quatrains, with every line save for the third rhyming. This looks like something the Moon would appreciate, Twilight thought. But then, she’s probably written a bookful of these herself without ever hearing of it before.
As Twilight browsed through the book, in her imagination she found herself in what she thought was an enclosed garden in Saddle Arabia. A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and a distant song to set her mood. I could see how Uranus could enjoy this – I certainly do! One verse in particular – the twenty-third, about a third of the way through – was bookmarked, which caught her attention:
Ah, make the moſt of what we yet may ſpend Before we too into the Duſt deſcend; Duſt into Duſt, and under Duſt to lie Sans Wine, ſans Song, ſans Singer, and ſans End!
Sounds ominous, Twilight thought. But then, Black Hole is arguably a worse fate – one where not even dust will exist. I wonder how the others are doing with their reading.
“Hey Twilight!”
Speak of Discord. . . . Mercury’s voice penetrated Twilight’s concentration. She looked up at her. “What is it?” she asked.
“Watch this!” Mercury took the book she grabbed and shook it. Nothing came out of it, but that didn’t discourage Mercury from following up with “We don’t need to actually read her books to find the fragment – just shake ’em and it’ll fall out eventually. Now c’mon, you’ve wasted enough time already!”
What! Really? “And if it should fall through the clouds?” Twilight asked, tapping the surface of the planet. “What then?”
“You can yank it back out, can’t you?” Mercury shelved that book, grabbed the next one, and gave it a good shake spine-up.
Well, I suppose she does have a point. Twilight picked up her Rubáiyát and followed Mercury’s lead – nothing. Still, a good book to return to eventually. She shelved it and, with her magic, grabbed The Art of War. After a good shake, nothing fell out, though the she thought she could hear the binding starting to undo itself. She shelved it quickly before Uranus could notice the damage.
Just before Twilight could check the Harmonicés mundí, Uranus came up behind her. “Need a little more help?” she asked the unicorn.
“Uranus!” she said. “I thought you’d still be flipping through your books more carefully.”
“I relented to Mercury eventually,” Uranus confessed. “All I asked was that she and the other girls go through my library gently.” They looked over to see Mercury being a bit rougher than Twilight would’ve preferred. Who else but the one made for speed would go as fast as that? Twilight considered. “Anyway,” Uranus continued, “we started doing that several minutes ago, but you must’ve been absorbed within something good if you only just now noticed!” She giggled.
“Yeah,” Twilight conceded, “it was this Rubáiyát. Mostly because it was the first one I could actually understand.”
“Potestne loquére Latíné?” Uranus asked her. At Twilight’s confusion, she brushed it off. “That’s okay, I need some more practice myself. Anyway, would you sift through, say, the next two dozen books? I’ll be over here if you need me.”
“I’ll do better than that,” Twilight asked. “Watch this!” With her magic, she seized that many books and shook them all out at the same time.
To say Uranus was dumbstruck would be putting it lightly. “Was that how you’ve been working this entire time?” she asked Twilight.
The unicorn nodded.
“Can you. . . I don’t know, automate it?” Uranus followed up. “Make the books check themselves?”
“Hmm. . . .” Add a temporary animacy spell to one of these books – unshelve, shake down, reshelve, pass the spell on – “That actually sounds feasible,” she said. “Good thinking. I could actually check them all by myself – and should the piece fall within your planet’s atmosphere, I can easily search through it.”
“I’ll get the others out of your way, if you want,” she said.
“That’ll work,” Twilight said. “Give them a break as well.”
“Oh, really?” Mercury said, apparently having overheard. She reshelved the book she was holding. “Sounds good to me – good luck, Twilight!”
As the girls put away their work, Twilight lit her horn and started “writing” an impromptu animacy spell for the books. After a moment, she cast it upon the next book in the revolving shelf, and watched it carefully.
That book took on a violet glow of its own, despite Twilight not having her horn lit. It came out of the shelf by its own accord, flipped forward, and the pages furled to the planet below. It then went back onto the shelf, then the glow shifted to the next one. Just as I planned, Twilight thought. “I’ll keep an eye on what falls out of them,” she told Uranus. “You just keep your shelf rotating, got it?”
“Very well!” Uranus soon found that the books miraculously kept in pace with the shelf’s movements, so that it would always be perfectly shelved. She kept a hand on the shelf, spinning it incrementally, with the unicorn watching carefully beneath it, as book after book one at a time went through the same process, almost like clockwork.
Which started to test Mercury’s patience once again. “Ugh, can we get a move-on?” she asked. “Can’t you just do a few more of that spell, Twilight?”
“I’d rather I didn’t lose my concentration, thank you,” Twilight asked. Once more, with laser-like intensity, she turned back to the current task. The cycle continued without her further interference – books shaking themselves free of any detritus, Uranus moving her shelf to keep up, ticking along like a clock, but with nothing ever tumbling out of them for a long time.
Twilight was moments away from dozing off from boredom when she heard a new, unfamiliar sound, of something solid moving along pages. “There it is!” she cried. She quickly cast a telekinetic net beneath the fragment – bit was too late, as it had slipped through her grasp. She sighed. “Thought I could save us some trouble,” she told Uranus. “Guess I’ll have to do this the hard way.”
Fortunately, “the hard way” was not that hard. It was obviously not the first time Twilight looked through Uranus’s planet, and though she had not completely memorized its surface, finding the piece with her magic was a relatively simple task. After finding an unfamiliar projection at the planet’s north pole, she grabbed it and pulled it free from its considerable gravitational grasp. “I’ve got it at last,” she announced to the others. “But is it finally enough?”
“Why don’t you try fitting the pieces together?” Uranus asked her.
Milky Way took Uranus’s cue and presented the other pieces they found together. In her magic, Twilight was able to fit them all together for the first time – which still left a few gaps. “Not yet,” she said, “but we’re almost through.” She handed all the pieces to Milky Way, and turned to the Sun. “Who else does this system have?”
“Out further away would be Neptune,” the Sun responded. “She’s Uranus’s twin sister, but you really can’t tell by meeting her.”
“Don’t remind me about that,” Uranus said. She then sighed. “I truly wish she would take her studies more seriously. Such wasted potential!” She shook her head. “No, I really shouldn’t say such an insensitive thing. Don’t repeat that, please.”
“Even so,” the Sun said, “we’ve got Neptune and one more planet to visit. So far, each one of us has exactly one piece of the planetoid, so let’s hope that trend continues.”
“Even if I have to dig it out of two more giant planets,” Twilight added. Because that’s certainly worked out well for us so far.
“If it makes you feel better,” Uranus told Twilight, “Neptune’s is also an ice giant.”
Twilight nodded. Yes, that does work out well for me.
“So,we ready to go?” Milky Way asked.
Mercury didn’t say anything – she simply took off on her skates to the next outlying world. The Sun rolled her eyes, and simply said “Let’s go, then,” before they took off as well – but not before Twilight climbed onto Milky Way’s shoulder, as usual.
“Io! Europa! Ganymede! Callisto!” Jupiter called out behind them. “It’s time to go!”
A moment later, Jupiter’s beloved pets jetted right up to her side. “You’ve all been behaving so well,” she told them. “How about a trip to the beach? Does that sound good?”
Judging by the sounds they all made – even Europa the Bunny, who was normally stoic and silent – that particular decision was settled. Eight girls, four pets, and one unicorn stayed the course to the next world over, to see Uranus’s twin sister.
When Mercury arrived at the next planet to see Neptune, she found it barren. She wasn’t here, she wasn’t there – “Seriously, Neptune?” she asked. “Where are you right now?”
She resolved to slumping against the base of the planet and waiting for the rest of her friends to show up. “Did I really travel such a long way to get here?” she asked aloud to herself. She sighed. “This is gonna be a long wait, I can tell.”
To pass the time, she watched Neptune’s planet’s satellite drift past her field of vision. It eclipsed with the Sun’s star eventually, though considering how far away that was from here, it wasn’t that hard to do. Mercury noted the transient dimness, then as the satellite transited away, the familiar pinprick of light struck her eyes once again. She put a hand up, to block the shining again, then put it back down.
It was only then that Mercury noticed that her pulse had slowed down. As nice as skating at the speed of light was, sometimes she needed to take a breath, sit down, and just watch the universe around her. “All the more reason to stop Black Hole,” she reminded herself.
Not long after – a few minutes later – she noticed another, more familiar glow coming up on her. She leapt to her skates, anticipating some action. “There you are!” she called out.
As the other girls arrived and gathered around, with Twilight hopping down from Milky Way, Mercury said, “I can’t find Neptune anywhere.” She turned to Uranus. “Got any ideas, Uranus?”
Uranus simply chuckled. “I know my sister quite well,” she said. “I’m pretty sure she’s surfing the Kuiper Sea as we speak.” Kuiper Sea? Twilight thought. What kind of name is that?“Up for some swimming, girls?” she continued. “She’s not due back here for a good while.”And it’s an actual sea, to boot. Who’d’ve thunk?
“Where is the Kuiper Sea, anyway?” Milky Way asked.
Uranus extended her hand to further beyond the planet, away from the star. “All that lays out there, that’s the Kuiper Sea.”
Twilight’s jaw dropped – and, evidently, so did Milky Way’s. The Kuiper Sea was huge – if her planet was an ice giant, which it almost certainly was, then the Sea was unfathomable. One could spend a lifetime – nay, several lifetimes – exploring it and not discovering its full depth and breadth. It’s likely a good thing Equestria doesn’t have something like this, she thought. Who knows how many ponies would get lost in it for good? She looked down at her hooves, and noted she was standing on actual sand. She looked around, and though there was a small shack to her left, she couldn’t find any traces of Neptune’s presence anywhere.
Uranus squinted suddenly. “Oh, and there’s Neptune, all the way out there,” she told the others. “I really hope she didn’t get caught in the rip current again.”
Sigh. Why does everything in this universe have to be so dangerous? “Hold on,” Twilight said. “Instead of charging head-first into some dangerous situation, how about we look around her planet first?” She spotted its satellite, which she then pointed at. “Like that, for instance. Europa, a little help please? I’ll give the planet itself a look.” Should be easy if it’s an ice giant, like Uranus said.
The bunny nodded, and jetted over with Jupiter for a quick inspection. Twilight, lighting her horn, focused her attention on the planet itself. As with her old routine, she went over the entire (rather vast) surface of the planet. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, she moved outwards through the cloud layers. Nothing. Oh well, worth a try.
Jupiter rejoined her a moment later. “Europa couldn’t find anything on the satellite,” she told the unicorn.
“And the planet’s bare as well,” Twilight told her. She looked out with dread to the Kuiper Sea. “We’re going to have to go out there, won’t we?”
Uranus nodded. “That we will, that we will.”
Mars was giddily jumping from skate to skate. “I was hoping you’d say that,” she said. “I’ll bet it’ll be so much fun!” Even Jupiter’s pets seemed excited at the prospective.
“Even so, sugar,” the Sun told Mars, “we should still be careful. The Kuiper Sea’s huge, even for us, and only Neptune would have any idea about navigating the place.” She scanned the “shoreline.” “Speaking of which, here she comes now!” She pointed at a silhouette of a surfer, coming in on a “wave” of some sort.
This must be Neptune, Twilight thought. As she got closer to the Kuiper shore, she could start making out better details about her – the teal color motif, the seashell motif, the beachwear – and the fact that she, amazingly, was surfing while still wearing skates. Huh, so that’s why I never found any on the beach here.
Finally, Neptune came ashore. She picked up her surfboard and planted it tail-first into the sand behind her. “’Sup, sis?” she said. “Nice to see you brought everyone else too. And a new friend!” she added when she saw Milky Way. “What brings you to my beachfront paradise?”
“I’m Milky Way,” she said, “and this here’s Twilight Sparkle. We’ve been looking for fragments of a planetoid that have been scattered around the Solar System. You think you can help us with that?”
If Neptune noticed Twilight’s horn, she never said anything. “You think I might have it? Milky, my new friend, I should tell you I collect seashells, not rocks. I wouldn’t know of any fragments.”
“What she means is,” Uranus butted in, “that planetoid was holding in Black Hole. She shattered that planetoid – by accident, or so she says – and now that Black Hole’s free, he’ll reverse the Big Bang, compressing the universe down into a single point. In case you haven’t been paying attention to your studies – ” she well emphasized that bit – “that means you’re going with it too!”
Clearly, this one was not so austere, not when compared to her twin sister. “Yeah, so?” she said. “Just one more reason to go surfing – if only for one last time, before it all comes crashing down. You dig me, sis?” Gah, just how flaky can somepony be?
“Neptune, honey, I really don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,” the Sun told her. “Especially considering Milky Way and Twilight here have been running through the system with the rest of us, hunting down each fragment. And I should know – I was the first they visited!” The Sun shone her hair lighter, to make sure Neptune was paying attention – who apparently was. “We can still stop him, but only if you can stop surfing for a moment to help us.”
Neptune stopped. “You’ve been trying to stop the unstoppable?” she said. “That’s, like, far-out girl, but you’ve got a lot of work cut out for you – and that’s even if you can piece his planetoid back together.” She crossed her arms, and leaned back against her surfboard. “But sure, I can help you. Whaddaya need?”
Twilight spoke up, spooking Neptune by accident. “We’ve already looked through your planet and the satellite orbiting, but couldn’t find it. Which means, if you do have one, it’ll be out in the Kuiper Sea somewhere.”
“Oh, I see your point now,” she said. “Let me just say, though – looking through the Kuiper Sea for something that’s. . . how big are the pieces again?”
Milky Way showed her one they found.
“Yeah, that’s going to be especially tough. Everyone’s going to have to dive, and really, we don’t have nearly enough girls to go through the whole sea.” She grabbed her surfboard. “I have spare boards in that yonder shack. Grab one and paddle out. Try not to group up.”
“Milky Way, do you actually know how to surf?” Twilight whispered to her.
“I’ve done it a time or two before,” she whispered back. “I travel the universe, remember?” She took off her skates, leaving them on the beach, and grabbed a surfboard – which happened to have a starry pattern on it. Almost like Neptune’s been expecting us. Almost.“I take it you can’t really surf by yourself, right Twilight?” she asked.
“Never done it before,” Twilight said. “Never really interested me that much. I just prefer staying in and reading.”
Milky Way laughed. “Are you sure you’re not Uranus yourself?” She tapped her shoulder, cuing Twilight to grab on for the ride. Once the unicorn did, Milky Way started paddling out to sea.
“You sure you don’t want to change into something more. . . appropriate?” Twilight asked. “I mean, just look at what Neptune wore. Don’t you have anything like that?”
“I do, but I didn’t think I’d need it, so I left it behind,” Milky Way replied. “Oh well, no going back now – it’d take too much time as it is.”
Slowly, Twilight moved down from Milky Way’s shoulder and perched upon her back. She glanced down into the water. Looks murky. I hope it’s not actually salty too. Then Milky Way hit a wave, splashing some water into her mouth. Huh, no salt. For a sea, that’s a first. It should definitely help for when we dive down.
Despite Neptune’s instructions otherwise, the two ran into another girl – Saturn. She waved at them, then pointed at herself and further beyond them, then at them and in her current spot. Twilight understood it as “I’ll head over there, you two can have this spot.”
Milky Way must have understood her as well, since she stopped paddling eventually. “Okay,” she said. “How are we going to do this?”
Twilight gave it some thought. “Hmm. . . .” Ideally, one of us needs to stay on the board, both so it doesn’t go anywhere and so the one diving can easily find her way back. Milky Way can use her hands to grab the fragment – if it’s down there – but if I stay on the board and let her dive, she might not find me, even with my horn flared. But if I dive down and use my magic. . . yes. That should work. “You stay on the board,” she told Milky Way. “I’ll be going under. Pull me up if you have to.”
“Got it!” Milky Way said.
And without further ado, Twilight leapt off of Milky Way’s back and plunged below the surface of the Kuiper Sea. Woah. . . . She had to resist the temptation to breathe in underwater. It looks amazing down here! She saw a great variety of marine life, surrounding her, paying her no heed. I wonder what Jupiter would do if she saw this. She’d probably take some of them home with her.
Okay, right. Gotta find that fragment, Twilight. You’ve only got so much air and time. With her magic, she shined a light upon the seafloor, noting some of the smaller critters scurrying about this way and that. Lots of stones and crevices, many of which were caked in seaweed – but no fragment to be seen.
But she wasn’t about to give up. With her telekinesis, she started sweeping up the seafloor, seeing if the fragment might have been buried by the tide. No, nothing yet so far. She considered moving the rocks to see if it was buried that way, but found all the ones she tried to be immovable for some reason. Okay, so it’s just sand I have to worry about. How convenient.
Twilight started to notice she was running short of breath, so she looked up, to find Milky Way. Where is she, where is she. . . ? She couldn’t find the silhouette of a surfboard anywhere.
Now she started panicking. Did she abandon me out here!? Without any further thought, she swam to the surface, if only to catch her breath. C’mon. . . just a little further. . . .
When she did finally break the surface, she let in some life-giving. . . air? into her lungs. She started looking around her. There wasn’t a single soul out in the sea besides her. This is trouble.
“Milky Way!?” she called out, to no avail. “Where are you!? I’m lost!” She kept looking, but not seeing anyone nearby.
Then, finally, she heard some paddling coming up from the beach. There was Milky Way, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, Twilight,” she said. “A wave scooped me up a while back, and it took me this long to get back here. You weren’t scared, were you?”
Oh, of course that would happen.“No, not at all,” Twilight lied. “Anyway, I couldn’t find anything down here, so I guess we’re moving on.”
“Right you are.” Milky Way plucked the unicorn out of the water and placed her right back on her back. “I see an empty spot out there. Let’s go there next.” She started paddling along. Besides, Twilight thought, the further out we are from the Kuiper shore, the less likely an incident like that would happen again.
Just before they could arrive there, they bumped into a rather well-soaked Venus, who apparently had the same idea. “Pardonnez-moi,” she said. “I was about to dive here, but if you would prefer. . . .”
Milky Way saw another open spot, even further, and even vaster. “That’s okay,” she said. “We were just passing through.”
Venus simply nodded, and Milky Way and Twilight continued on their way. “Are you crazy?” Twilight whispered to Milky Way. “If you catch another wave by accident out here, how soon would you get back to me?”
“Relax,” she said back. “I think you’ll be just fine. Besides, Venus or one of the other girls would fish you out if they find you. You’ve really got nothing to worry about.” Well, other than that rip current Uranus mentioned, and some of the larger fauna – who knows how aggressive they might be?“And we’ve arrived. This time I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
“For my sake, I hope you’re right.” Twilight dove back into the water. Here, life was somewhat less sparse. Perhaps they like the shore better? she thought. What does it offer? Embarrassingly, in that moment she couldn’t recall much on her oceanological studies. Bah, what does it matter? The fragment awaits here somewhere. Just gotta find it, wherever it is.
As before, she lit her horn and shined a light on the seafloor. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted an iridescent glimmer poking out of the sand. With her magic, she lifted the object out of the seafloor.
It was only an empty half of a clamshell, inlaid with mother of pearl. Drat, she thought. She dropped it back into the sand and, noticing her dwindling breath just then, swam to the surface.
Twilight gasped for life when she broke the surface. “Didn’t find anything yet!” she called out to Milky Way, each word punctuated by a breath. Okay, let’s try that again. She dove back into the water.
She shone a light with her magic, looking for anything that even remotely resembled a fragment. She looked this way and that, trying to find a familiar shape, a glimmer, anything really. But alas, she couldn’t find anything down here anymore.
Better cut my losses when I can, she thought. She swam back to the surface, both to catch her breath and to meet back up with Milky Way.
Once Twilight broke the surface, she lit her horn, as a signal flare. That caught Milky Way’s attention well enough, and she paddled over and yanked Twilight out of the water. “Nothing down there?” she asked the unicorn.
Twilight shook her head. “I wonder if the other girls are faring any better themselves. Think we should ask around?”
“I’m pretty sure they’d be making a lot more noise if they found the fragment out here,” Milky Way said. “Still, it’s worth a try.” She scanned the horizon. “I see the Moon over there. Let’s go ask her!” And off she paddled.
It seemed the Moon was rather hydrophobic herself – she was more or less perfectly dry, instead staying on her board and relying on her orbs of light to peer beneath the surface. She looked up, through her hair, to see Milky Way and a thoroughly-soaked Twilight Sparkle. “Forsooth,” the Moon said, “you haven’t any shame in getting wet.”
“Nope!” Twilight said. “As long as we get what we’re looking for.” She peered down in the waters below. “Did you find anything interesting?”
“I cannot say I have,” the Moon replied. “However – ” she pointed at one glowing orb – “there lies something shiny. What that is. . . .”
“Let me have a look,” Twilight said. “Keep that light on it.” She jumped off of Milky Way’s back and plunged into the water. Against her better judgment, she swam quickly to the spot the Moon indicated – and this time, Fortune smiled upon the unicorn. There, beneath a seaweed-covered stone and all but buried in the sand, was the thing Twilight and the other girls had been diving and hunting for all this time.
Finally! With her magic, she started dusting off the sand, then with a great deal of force, moved the stone so she could uncover the fragment. When she lifted it to her eyes, she found no jagged edges, nor any indication it had been broken up beneath the waves. I wonder just how much force Mars needed to break hers, Twilight thought. Without another word, she swam back to the surface.
Once Twilight caught her breath, she cast a pyrotechnic spell – to signal the other girls that this leg of their quest is completed. Time I got back onto dry land, she thought – if that can be considered dry land.
As Milky Way pulled Twilight out of the water, the Moon extinguished her lights. “Huzzah!” she commended her. “O, how you brav’d the deep!”
“Hey, you’re the one who found it.” Twilight then looked to the shore – and saw just how far away they got to find it. We must be on the other side of the Kuiper Sea by now, she surmised.
Neptune paddled up to them not long after. “Righteous!” she said. “Saw the lightshow – I guess you found it after all.” Yeah, and this made the Belt look easy. “Now, y’all can paddle back into shore the boring old way. . . ooor y’all can catch a wave and let the Sea work for you for once.”
“Oh dear. . . .” The Moon shrouded her face in her hair. “I fear I haven’t even half the courage.”
“It’s alright, Moon,” Neptune said. “Just follow my lead, and you’ll be just fine. C’mon!” She started paddling towards the shore. “You can’t catch waves out here!” she called back.
Milky Way and Twilight started after Neptune, with the Moon reluctantly following behind. True to Neptune’s word, the Kuiper Sea became rougher the closer they got back ashore – then a large swell started forming behind them. “Here we go – surf’s up!” Neptune stood up, with her foot on the back of the board for stability – is she seriously still wearing skates out here? How is she not falling off!? – and the wave took her up.
Slowly, the Moon followed her actions – standing up with her foot to the back, trying to stay stable on the board – and miraculously, and to her surprise and excitement, she never fell off. “Is this what surfing is?” she asked Milky Way. “I quite enjoy this!”
“That’s the spirit!” Just before she stood up, Milky Way grabbed Twilight off her back and set her down at the nose of the board. “Just keep your eyes forward, Twilight. You’re going to love this.”
As Twilight watched, the sensed the water moving further away from her, almost as if she was about to flip over – then the wave started crashing, which sent the board flying forth to the shoreline. She gripped the nose and held on for dear life, praying to Celestia or whichever deity ruled this realm that she survive this ordeal. How does Neptune enjoy something like this? she pondered. Uranus seems to be making more and more logical sense the more I know her.
Finally, they reached the shore – where the other two girls were waiting for her and Milky Way. “I was wondering if you got lost at sea, sugar,” the Sun greeted. “How’s the Moon? Doing okay?”
“That. . . .” The Moon stood up, on shaky legs, still excited from surfing. “. . . was just divine!”
“Speak for yourself,” Twilight said. “I’m just glad to be back on dry land.” Let’s hope they get what I mean.
“From my experience,” Neptune said, “there are three kinds of groms: those who don’t want to do it again, those who want more, and those who are disappointed. Can’t really help the last of those.” She planted her surfboard into the sand. “Think you’ve got enough?”
“I could check. . . .” At Twilight’s cue, Milky Way pulled out all the fragments they have found, and in her magic she assembled them into a sphere. One gap was filled, but another two remained. “We’re definitely closer than before,” she said. “Got another destination?”
“Last stop would be Pluto,” the Sun said. “Might be off-putting for you, but she’ll come around – especially when the universe is at stake.” She breathed deeply. “Now, about drying off – ”
“Allow me, please.” The Moon had a scroll, floating in front of her so she wouldn’t get it wet, and began reciting:
Peel away the water from our skin, Channel it away into air thin – Do the same to our clothing as well – Leave us all as dry as we had been.
And just like that, the seawater came pouring off of everyone, no towel needed. Twilight had to resist the urge to chuckle. I knew she’d have heard of rubáiyát before, she thought.
“Thanks, Moon,” Milky Way said. “Neptune, I realize you don’t really want any part in this – ”
“Oh, but I do now,” Neptune said. “No more universe, no more seas, no more surfing – there’s a time to go with the flow, and this ain’t it, chief.” She grabbed her surfboard. “Pluto, was it? It’d be nice to see her again.”
“Ready to go?” Mercury asked. “Because I already am!” And without any prompting, she took off at breakneck pace.
“Mercury never ceases to amaze me,” Neptune said. “But I think we should stick together.”
“That’s what we’ve been doing, for the most part.” Twilight hopped up onto Milky Way’s now-dry shoulder. “Lead the way, Sun!”
“Happy to, honey.” With that, the Sun took off, with the other girls and Jupiter’s pets right behind her.
For once, Mercury had to slow down – not because of fatigue, no. The Sun’s starlight was starting to fade from her view, and consequently she had to avoid bumping into unseen objects.
Partly why she had to skid to a halt suddenly – she started to run into a large mass of rocks. “Oh, right, the other Belt,” she told herself. “Well, this one goes around much slower. I just hope the fragment’s not actually in here.”
Remembering the Sun’s words from earlier, she carefully (though by no means slowly) slipped through the cracks in the rows of rocks here and there. Once she reached the other side, she took off into the darkness, seeking her friend Pluto.
Several minutes later, the Sun and the other girls showed up. “Here’s the Kuiper Belt, y’all,” she said. “This is more for Milky Way’s benefit, but in case anyone else doesn’t remember, it’s a lot thicker than the Asteroid Belt. Follow my lead!” Slowly, she slipped through the cracks and spaces in the Kuiper Belt.
Which came first, Twilight pondered, the Sea or the Belt? She hopped down from Milky Way’s shoulder. “After you,” she told her.
“Stay put here,” Jupiter told her pets. She turned to Twilight. “You sure you want to meet Pluto? I hear she can be pretty. . . loud.”
Twilight waved her hoof. “Nah, I can handle it.” She turned to check on where the Sun was. She was still crossing over to the other side, with Milky Way and now Venus, Saturn, and Uranus following. “This could be a while.” She sat on her haunches and waited for the Sun to finish crossing.
Which she did a few minutes later. “That’s my cue!” Twilight said. She lit her horn and cast a teleportation spell, instantly reappearing at the Sun’s side – using her glow as a beacon.
The Sun just chuckled. “Gotta say, you never cease to amaze me, little pony,” she said. “Why don’t you use that disappearing act of yours to go back home?”
“I’ve tried that,” Twilight answered. She looked down at her hooves. “It never worked here. . . .”
“Oh, come now,” the Sun said, “that’s no reason to give up right now. We’re so close to saving the Universe now – and once that’s done, we’ll find you a way home. And that’s a promise.”
Twilight looked up to her. “Seriously?” she said. “You mean it?” Not sure what Milky Way has in mind, or indeed if she does have anything in mind. . . .
The Sun nodded – right as Milky Way climbed out of the Kuiper Belt. “You’ve done a great deal to help us, probably more than the rest of us. Reckon we all owe you.”
“If you say so.” Twilight hopped back onto Milky Way’s shoulder. This is really giving me a workout – all in a summer break, too! “How much further is Pluto from here?” She peered through the space beyond – and saw it was still somewhat littered with rocks. I’d be surprised if Pluto’s visited more often, she thought.
“Still a bit ways off,” the Sun answered. “She’s by far the furthest away from my star – and frankly, she prefers the darkness.”
Is that so? “What keeps her from going insane?” Twilight asked.
“Probably the music she composes, I reckon” the Sun guessed. “Not as good as my singing, naw – but it’s definitely got its audience.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. Of course the star would be so self-centered. “Jupiter says it’s pretty loud, too,” she followed up. “As loud as yours, perhaps?”
The Sun laughed and shook her head. “Not by a long shot,” she replied.
Phew! she thought. At least I won’t go deaf –
“She’s even louder than that.”
. . . oh, joy. “Guess we’re not that close after all.”
“You thought I was loud?” Saturn asked Twilight through her device – what was it called again? “Even I know when to turn it down.”
As she said this, Twilight felt some pulsing vibrations in the frogs of her hooves. Wow, that soon? She even noticed the rocks vibrating as well, though it was hard to tell with how fast they were going. “We’re not even that close, are we?” she asked Saturn.
“We’re still quite a ways off,” Saturn replied.
The Moon skated up to Twilight. “If you would like,” she said, “I can provide an aid to deafen her.”
Twilight’s eyes lit up. That’s perfect! “Yes!” she said. “I’d like that, please.”
“If you don’t mind too much, Moon,” Milky Way added, “I could use something like that too.”
The others apparently didn’t mind Pluto’s music too much, judging by their silence. “Very well,” the Moon said. She cleared her throat:
Hark! you hear the sounds all swell Loud! the dark one’s voice doth yell Now! her vocal impact's quell’d, And you can listen without harm.
Twilight blinked. Nothing’s changed. I can still hear their skates just fine. “Did it work?” she asked the Moon.
“Yeah,” Milky Way added, “I’m not sure if that did anything.”
“It shall in due time,” the Moon answered. “Hasten! She awaits.” I hope she’s right. . . .
A few minutes later, she found the apparent stage, situated upon a rather small planet, where Pluto was performing – and apparent she wasn’t alone. “Which one of them’s Pluto?” Twilight asked.
“The one with black hair and guitar,” the Sun replied. “On the drums, that’s Eris, and Ceres is playing bass.”
Twilight had to squint to look. Indeed, as she could eventually see, playing a guitar with a skull-shaped body was a black-haired and very pale girl. Seemed the skull wasn’t just part of Pluto’s band – it was her personal emblem, much like how the other girls had ones of their own.
On the drums was apparently Eris, who, despite being in the back, was even easier to spot than Pluto, due to her unkempt red hair, her green bomber jacket, her atom symbol – what’s up with that? – and her generally chaotic, hot-headed disposition. She would speed up or slow down her beat without warning, though Pluto and Ceres were able to adapt smoothly, flawlessly.
And Ceres was. . . she was all but unremarkable. Even if ‘unremarkable’ is a remark unto itself, Twilight thought. She had a lot of earthy tones to her appearance, and didn’t even have her own symbol. So I guess having one of those is optional. But what would hers be? Twilight pondered. Probably a leaf or something, if only to match her colors. But I’m sure that’s for her to decide.
Twilight then realized that the Moon’s spell was indeed working – she could still feel the bass vibration in her hooves, but the actual volume was much more tolerable. She turned to face her. “Thank a lot!” she said. “Whatever you did is working great.”
“It was my pleasure,” the Moon replied – and Twilight could actually hear her clearly, well over Pluto’s band. Almost like a volume knob for the real world, she thought. I should teach myself this spell when I get back to Equestria. Or did Star Swirl already write it?
Eventually, the girls pulled up to the crowd. Yep, more aliens, Twilight thought. This system’s just full of ’em. None of them minded the volume of music Pluto and her bandmates made. I wonder what their limits are, Twilight pondered.
Mercury wasn’t hard to find. “There you are!” she greeted them. “You missed out on most of the show.” For the first time in quite a long time, every girl in the system was gathered in one place.
“That works out well for us,” Twilight said.
Mercury put a hand up to her ear. “Say again?”
Well, I guess no spell’s ever perfect. “I said, ‘That’ll work fine for us!’” Twilight shouted. “When do they finish? How soon?”
“Just about now!” And true to Mercury’s word, Pluto loosed one last set of chords on her guitar, then followed up with Eris pounding out a frantic, crashing finale crescendo, then letting the reverberations fade out.
As the alien crowd cheered and cried for an encore, the three band members got off the stage. “Now’s our chance!” Twilight said.
“Honey, I’m not sure if we should bother Pluto right now,” the Sun said. “Last time I tried that, I had ringing in my ears for a good two weeks after. Let’s give her a moment to cool down, okay?”
“Sure, I guess,” Twilight said. She hopped down from Milky Way’s shoulder. Okay, how long is “a moment”? she started wondering. I should just give her five minutes – no, three – and I’ll try knocking. But first I should ask the Sun to clarify, and go from – wait, where’s Mercury?
Mercury was already knocking on the door to the backstage. Leave it to the impatient one to take some initiative. “Mercury, wait!” Twilight called out. She took off in a quick gallop, to try to stop her.
But it was too late. A particularly grouchy Eris had answered the door. “Whaddaya want!?” she barked.
“Hey!” Mercury said. “We’re looking to talk to Pluto.”
Twilight simply hid behind Mercury, her herbivorous nature kicking in. Please don’t see me please don’t see me please don’t see me please don’t see me. . . .
“And who’s your buddy behind you?”
Oh, horsefeathers.
“This is Twilight.” Mercury stepped aside to reveal a cowering Twilight, already taking a couple cautious steps back. “She’s with me, but how she got here is a really long story, which isn’t really important. And speaking of being with me, so are the other girls. C’mon!” Mercury gestured the others to come closer.
Mercury must have dealt with Pluto and Eris quite a few times, Twilight surmised. Must be from her training – running to and fro through the planetary orbits. She was surprised to see Eris’s entire demeanor change when she saw the unicorn.
“Well well,” she told Twilight. She knelt down to meet her face to face. “And what are you doing all the way out here?”
Huh, this isn’t actually so bad, Twilight thought. Nice to see Eris has a soft spot for animals. She should meet Jupiter sometime. “I’m with my friend Milky Way,” she said.
Eris recoiled for a moment.
“We’ve been looking for fragments of a planetoid in this system for a while,” she said. “It’s rather a long story, but everyone else is pitching in, and, well. . . we need your help too.”
Eris shook her head. “Everything’s a long story these days, isn’t it?” she said. “Alright, wait here, I’ll go grab her.” She then shut the door.
The other girls arrived right as Eris disappeared. “That went way better than I expected,” the Sun said. “Reckon I should remember to bring one of Jupiter’s pets with me whenever I go see her.”
“Hey, that’s what I was about to say!” was what Twilight wanted to say at first. But she held her tongue. At least she figured that part out.
“Nuts,” Jupiter said. “But then, it’s hard to protect their hearing from their music. I’ll go with the compassionate option, thank you very much.”
“Well, so much for that, then,” the Sun said.
Unusually, the Moon started making her way to the front of the group. “See something?” Twilight asked her.
“Nay,” she simply replied.
Twilight shrugged. Maybe it’s been a long time since they last met. Who am I to judge?
A moment later, Pluto opened the backstage door. “Moon!” she cried and, seemingly uncharacteristically, pulled the Moon into a warm embrace.
They know each other that well? Then Milky Way decided to voice Twilight’s confusion. “Did I miss something?”
“Nah, not really,” Pluto’s somewhat raspy voice answered. She let go of the Moon and faced Milky Way. “Moon and I, we get along real well. Swap lyrics all the time. She’s like a big sister to me.”
The Moon blushed. “You flatter me,” she said. “But you grant them a voice they would not have.” She turned to Milky Way. “Perhaps you ought to introduce yourselves.” Hopefully this will be the last time.
Milky Way nodded. “I’m Milky Way,” she said, “and this is Twilight Sparkle. We’re looking for – ”
“Yeah yeah, Eris told me,” Pluto interrupted. “Not sure what you need them for – what makes it so important that you’ve dragged literally the rest of the system with you?”
“Oh, uh. . . might’ve forgotten to mention that,” Mercury confessed. “Milky Way, care to take this one?”
She sighed. “See,” Milky Way began, “I accidentally broke apart a planetoid that held Black Hole inside. Now that he’s free, he’s trying to compress the universe back into a singularity.”
“Woah woah woah, back right on up!” Pluto interrupted again. “You let out a supervillain bent on destroying the universe?” She gave Milky Way a blank stare. “I’m sorry, but what were you thinking!?”
“Look, I didn’t know he was in there, okay!?” An exasperated Milky Way took a deep breath to calm down. “Besides, we have almost every piece we need, but we’re still short – and the Sun told me about this part of the system. Think we’ll find it here?”
“Hmm. . . maybe? What do they look like, anyway?” Pluto gestured Milky Way to show her.
Which she did. “Uh-huh,” Pluto commented. “Yeah, in case you haven’t noticed, there’s not a lot of light out here, so you can’t really rely too much on reflection. And did any of you see that minefield on your way out here!?” She pointed outside, to the Kuiper Belt. “See, I keep a clean stage, so there’s no way I’d have something like that lying around. So if anyone else has any ideas, I’m all ears.”
“You mean you’ll help?” Milky Way asked.
“Yeah, when the universe is in danger,” Pluto said. “Now c’mon, humor me – give me something!”
Twilight was already pondering the girls’ next plan of attack. Could we get the Sun to flare her light? she wondered. No, that would be asking too much of even a diva like her. Likewise, the Moon’s orbs are a no-go – and we’d get on Pluto’s bad side with that. Even with Mercury’s speed, she can’t search this entire region in time. C’mon Twilight, don’t fail now – not yourself, not Milky Way. . . not Spike – hold on. She peered inside, past Pluto – and saw a rather spiky guitar on a rack in the corner. And then, she remembered the vibrating rocks from earlier. What if. . . ? Her eyes widened at the revelation. “Hey, can you all wait here for a second?” Twilight asked. “Thanks!” She quickly galloped off, past the crowd, but could still hear Pluto comment “Eris wasn’t kidding, was she? A talking unicorn. . . .”
With her magic, she lit her view and looked for a rock – any rock – but it seemed Pluto also kept a clean orbit as well; she couldn’t find anything at first. She had to keep galloping forward, scanning the cosmos with her arcane-light, quickly darting her eyes this way and that – before finding her prize. “Aha!” She seized the hoof-sized chunk of rock, then, seemingly without fatigue, galloped back to Pluto’s stage.
“Interesting,” Pluto was saying. “So you’re saying she just. . . popped up out of nowhere? And she’s not connected to all this?”
“Yep!” Milky Way replied.
“Uh-uh, I ain’t buying it,” Pluto said. “I just have this gut feeling Black Hole’s got something to do with her being here – ”
“I’ve got it!” Twilight said. She held the rock up in front of the girls.
“A. . . rock?” Pluto asked. “Okay, now you’ve officially lost your mind. Doesn’t even remotely look like what Milky Way has. What’s that going to do for us?”
“Milky Way,” Twilight instructed, “let me borrow a fragment for a second.” Once she had that in her telekinetic grip as well, she turned to Pluto. “Pluto, get on that guitar in the corner.”
“Oh, Ol’ Spiny?” Pluto asked. “Sure, I can set ’im up on an amp real quick. Where are you going with this, Twilight?”
“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.” Using an abaric spell on each of them, Twilight set the pieces floating by themselves, as though they were still adrift in the Kuiper Belt. “Go head, start playing something,” she instructed Pluto.
Pluto has just finished plugging everything in. “You sure something like that won’t break from the sound?” she asked. “I am so not in the mood for cleaning up gravel right now.”
“The rock won’t break,” Twilight insisted. “You have my word.” Besides, I can just catch the pieces in my magic.
“And the fragment?”
“It’s a lot more durable than it looks. I pulled one out of the Sun’s star – not even a scratch on it.”
Mars took a step back.
“Huh, if you say so.” Raising her pick, Pluto seemed to contemplate what to play – then decided on a few random guitar riffs.
Here, Twilight was especially grateful for the Moon’s magic – how do the other girls put up with it? she wondered. Still, she kept an eye on the objects.
As predicted, the rock was vibrating – perhaps even more so, given its much closer proximity. But the fragment truly astounded her – instead of vibrating, it simply spun in the air, rapidly. Twilight couldn’t figure out where its axis of rotation is, but decided it was irrelevant.
Evidently Pluto had noticed as well, since she stopped playing after a while. “Well well,” she said, “guess you were onto something after all.” She set Ol’ Spiny down by the amp. “If it’s anything like that, then you shouldn’t have any problem looking around the belt. Just make sure you have some light with – ”
Pluto was interrupted by Eris coming in. “What’s all that racket for?” she asked. And to the girls, “And what are you doing in here?”
Twilight grabbed the still-rapidly-spinning fragment in her magic, and replaced its magic with inertia. “Got an idea from on our way here,” she explained, handing the fragment back to Milky Way. “Turns out for whatever reason planetoid fragments spin instead of vibrate when you play your music.”
“Oh yeah?” Eris asked. “And how do I believe you?”
“By believing me,” Pluto shot back. “I saw it with my own eyes. Might just work, if you ask me.”
Eris chuckled. “Clever girl. . . .” She turned to leave the room – but then turned back. “We ready in five?”
“So you’re going onstage to help us. . . agitate the rocks?” Twilight asked.
“Sure!” she said. “Anything to help put Black Hole back in his place.”
Huh, that was easy. “We’ll head out to the Belt,” Twilight told her. “Keep playing your music for as long as you can – and when we find the fragment – ” if we find it – “I’ll signal you with a flare.” She tapped her horn with her hoof.
“A fireworks show for the finale, huh?” Pluto laughed. “I like it already!” She started unhooking Ol’ Spiny from the amplifier. “Oh, and on your way there, could you chuck that rock back where you found it?” she asked Twilight. “Don’t exactly want it hanging around here, see.”
“Sure thing.” Twilight grabbed the rock in her telekinetic grasp, and followed the girls as they all poured out of the room and made their way back to the ‘minefield,’ as Pluto aptly described it.
“You guys seriously better spread out!” Neptune said. “Kuiper Belt’s got nothing on the Kuiper Sea, and we don’t know how much is out here!”
Twilight thrust the rock with her magic back into the Belt. That eliminates one. . . not much progress, but it’s something. “I guess we’ll have to separate here,” she told Milky Way.
“Yeah, guess so.” Milky Way pointed in one direction. “I’ll head over here, and you can stay and look here. Good luck!” She then skated off, leaving the unicorn to her own devices. Sure, she thought, what could go wrong?
Twilight glanced behind her, back to Pluto’s stage, where Pluto and her bandmates were getting situated in their usual roles. Pluto grabbed the mic. “And now,” she announced, “here’s another head-splitting, ear-numbing performance, by Pluto and the Dwarf Planets!”
Dwarf planets? Twilight thought. Who made up that term?
“Are you ready!?” Pluto shouted and pointed to the alien crowd.
Their response was a great thundering cheer that even Twilight could hear from the Belt.
“I said, ‘Are you ready!?’” Pluto shouted, even louder this time.
The aliens responded in kind. This time, Twilight thought she noticed the rocks vibrate. Eh, probably not enough to go off of.
“Still can’t hear you!” Pluto thundered one last time.
Oh wait, I think she’s talking to us, Twilight realized. Guess I’ll have to indulge her. “Woo!” Twilight cheered. “Kill it, Pluto!” Is that even right?
One by one, the other girls joined in – even the Moon, who gave a quiet “Huzzah!” in support.
That seemed to satisfy Pluto. “Five, six, seven, eight!” Eris beat out each count on a drum, then exploded in a nearly-cacophonic fury of drumming. Pluto and Ceres kept to Eris’s beat, with Ceres’s deep notes matching Pluto’s lighter cords.
Just as Twilight predicted, all the rocks started vibrating constantly from the music. Time to get to work. She lit her horn and started looking this way and that, but didn’t notice anything spinning. “C’mon now, really?” She moved on to another section of the Belt – and bumped into Milky Way, who apparently had the same idea. “This is just like with the Sun, right Milky Way?” Twilight asked her.
“Yeah,” she responded, “but with Saturn’s volume too!” Guess I won’t have to raise my voice that much here. “You want to check this part, or just passing through?”
“Just passing through, thank you!” Well, that’s one spot given up. . . but that one up ahead isn’t occupied. She kept her horn lit, and started scanning it for anything spinning. Slowly move the light, she reminded herself. Not too fast, or you’ll miss it.
Then the vibrations disappeared suddenly. Killing her horn’s light, Twilight looked back. Is that seriously all they have to offer? Then Eris clapped her drumsticks together, and they started again with another musical number. Alright, fair enough. Where was I? She lit her horn again and kept looking – ultimately finding nothing in this part of the field. She shrugged and moved on.
“Got anything yet?” Venus asked her from another part of the field.
Twilight shook her head. “All these rocks are starting to look like each other,” she complained. “I imagine it’s like that with you, too.”
“Courage!” Venus replied. “We are not out of this yet.” Venus turned away, and so did Twilight. Really wish we had Jupiter’s pets right about now, she thought. Callisto’s good with her eyesight, or so Jupiter says.
On and on they went, each girl (and pony) searching myriad vibrating asteroids, finding nothing of course, while the metal band in front of them kept playing music to an enthusiastic alien crowd. Twice more they switched songs, but Twilight wasn’t sure – they kept blending one into the other. Kinda like what Saturn does.
Ugh, this is taking forever, she thought. And I thought the Kuiper Sea was difficult. “Anyone else have any luck?” an exhausted Twilight shouted out.
“Nope, not here!” Mercury responded. “Or here. . . or here. . . or here!” She seemed to be searching at a breakneck pace.
Twilight rolled her eyes. I’ll bet my cutie mark she actually found it, but missed it because she’s looking too fast, she thought. While Mercury was busy rushing through the field, the unicorn lit her horn and retraced Mercury’s steps.
A few moments later, she hit upon her prize – there, spinning in the vacuum from the band’s pulsing rhythm, was the final fragment. At last! With her magic, she plucked it from the empty space and applied some inertia to it.
“She wanted an explosive finale?” she asked herself. “Then she’ll have one!” She let loose with a large pyrotechnic spell – which gave Pluto and the Dwarf Planets cause to slam out a crashing impromptu finale. Everyone cheered – whether it was for the music, or a search well done.
“I think we’d better head back!” the Sun called out.
“Couldn’t agree more!” Twilight led the charge back to the backstage area, even knocking on the door once they got there. Eris answered the door, and let them in without a word.
The one composing song in drear unslung her guitar and hung it up on a rack on the wall. “Good work out there,” she told Eris and Ceres. “And you guys, too,” she added to the others. “I guess that means you’ve got everything to put Black Hole away – right?”
“Let me check.” Once Milky Way showed her all the other fragments, Twilight started reassembling the sphere in free space with her magic. It was starting to look very much complete – then she noticed a single hole in the surface. She sighed, and stopped her magic, dropping the fragments onto the floor. “We’re still one piece short. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, mon cœur,” said Venus. She knelt down to scoop up the fragments. “Where else in the system would these fragments land?” When nobody answered, she turned to Milky Way, handing them back to her. “Are you absolutely certain you saw every piece come through here, to this system?”
“You can forget about us going back out there,” Pluto said. “My fingers are about to start bleeding from the strings.”
“And that’s to say nothing about the other Belt,” Jupiter added. “But then, in our search, we managed to pick that one clean – right?”
“I sure hope so,” Uranus said, “because we’re out of time. Look!” She pointed out a window behind the stage, to the cosmos beyond the system.
By this time, Black Hole’s vortex had absorbed the entire Universe up to their system, and had just made its appearance at the front door – Pluto’s planet, in this case.
“No. Freaking. Way.” Pluto stood up, jaw dropped. “And all of us are right in its path!” She turned to Twilight. “We don’t have time to look for another piece of that planetoid – he’s right there, baring down on us. If we’re going to stop him, we do it now, or we do it not at all!”
“Then let’s hop to it!” But before Mercury could disappear out the door in her typical fashion, Twilight’s magical grip grabbed her by her sweatshirt and pulled her back inside.
“No,” Twilight told her. “We’re not letting you go without a plan. And right now, we don’t have one.”
“Better make one quick,” Pluto said. “Got any ideas?”
All this time, Mars had been squinting closely at Black Hole’s vortex. She thought she could see a shadowy figure orbiting it on something – but the vortex’s light-absorbing qualities made it hard to tell. “I think I see Black Hole himself,” she told the others. “And he’s standing on something, but I can’t be sure.”
Twilight took a look out as well – and noted that a tall, slender, and malformed being was standing on a jagged-shaped chunk of concave rock. “Mars is right,” she announced – “Black Hole’s definitely standing on something.”
Uranus chuckled. “Give me a lever, a fulcrum, and a place to stand. . . .”
Does she mean. . . ? Unbidding, Twilight grabbed the fragments from Milky Way and rapidly assembled the planetoid in her magic – then carefully compared the shape of the hole to the shape of Black Hole’s platform. Then she gasped. “Yes! That’s it!” she said. “Black Hole himself has the missing piece!” That should make our job a lot easier!
“Well, la-dee-da.” Pluto cracked her knuckles. “I’m looking to square up right now. Anyone else ready to kick some cosmological butt?”
The others nodded in agreement – Twilight rather enthusiastically. Let’s put this journey to rest at last, and get me home.
The distance between Black Hole’s vortex and the system proper was even greater than between Neptune and Pluto, Twilight found – still, she thought, we shouldn’t chance it with how close he is to us.
She checked behind her, and the rest of the other skating girls – the Kuiper Belt didn’t seem to be affected by the vortex just yet. And if it did, and we destroy it, she pondered, what would happen to whatever detritus it’s pulled in already? Twilight had seen and read of many things in Celestia’s School, but black holes really were something else entirely. I hope the time dilation isn’t too bad this close to it.
Even so, she steeled herself for the coming confrontation. Each one of the girls had a different outlook for the situation. Milky Way, the Sun, and especially Pluto were focused with laser-like intensity – understandably, each of them had something at stake, but so did the rest of the others – the universe, first and foremost. Did Black Hole’s vortex already absorb Milky Way’s sister? Twilight shuddered at the consideration. Let’s not think about that, not right now.
Jupiter told her pets to stay put for the fight, but they refused to listen – perhaps their loyalty got the better of them. Jupiter eventually conceded, and allowed them to tag along, so long as they did not jeopardize the others. Given that Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto were her favorites, she definitely had her chakras dealigned – which may or may not be a good thing, considering the situation.
Saturn, Venus, and Neptune were seemingly unperturbed. Saturn probably because she was distracting herself with some music through her headphones – I hope that doesn’t become a problem later on – Venus because of her generally reserved personality, and Neptune’s go-with-the-flow attitude. Strange, given that Neptune’s planet was next door to Pluto’s, and would be the next to be absorbed.
Mercury, who for once kept pace with the others, at Twilight’s insistence, was definitely impatient. I know you can get there faster than us, she thought, but I don’t want you to fall into the vortex as well. What if we can’t get you out? One way or another, Mercury would need to learn to be patient – sometimes speed is simply not of the essence.
The Moon, despite shrouding her face behind her hair, somehow kept pace with the others. I know, Moon – I don’t like it much either. But it’s necessary to save the universe, or what’s left of it. Twilight was confident that her magical poëtry at least would be their ace in the hole
Uranus was the only one who can be considered even remotely confident about going up with a cosmological force to be reckoned with. I’m willing to bet she’s got something up her sleeve, Twilight surmised, or she knows something about Black Hole that we don’t. But what, exactly?
And lastly, Mars was – well, she was Mars, of course, somehow keeping a lighthearted attitude even in the face of ultimate danger. But how? Twilight almost asked aloud. This is serious; how can you still be cheerful at a time like this?
Finally, they all screeched to a halt – emphasis on screeched, given that they were still being influenced by the pull of a massive, pulsating sphere, from which no light shone, nor was reflected, but it was wreathed with fiery-colored rings – the vortex! Only now did Black Hole cast his gaze upon them – if it could be called that: his form was amorphous, ever-changing, orange spots forming and collapsing in the shifting mass, but with one trained squarely on the girls. An eye, perhaps? Of note was that he was seemingly immune to the pull of his own vortex. Probably, Twilight guessed. Though that would probably change if he nears the end of his goal. But let’s not find that out.
“Well, well,” a very gravelly voice erupted from the alien shape, “if it isn’t my dear Milky Way. How nice of you to see little old me again.” Black Hole drummed his ‘fingers’ on the surface of his vortex, which made a glassy sound. “And I see you’ve brought friends! How splendid indeed.”
Milky Way stepped forward. “Can it, Black Hole!” she shot back. “I’ve been hunting down the fragments of your prison, together with my new friends.” She gestured behind her, at all the other girls, who were all varying degrees of cross – even Mars. “It was a mistake letting you go free, and I – we – intend to fix it right now!”
“Oh Milky Way, how you wound me!” Black Hole feigned being upset, covering his ‘face’ with his ‘hands’. “And here I thought we were good friends. Come now, where are your manners?”
“Where are yours, old man!?” Pluto cut in. “Destroying the entire universe, just like that – total buzzkill!” She breathed out so hard, small flames shot from her nostrils. Note to self: do not get on her bad side.
“And you must be Pluto,” Black Hole responded, his tone turning much colder and less dramatic. “I’ve heard quite a bit of you and your Dwarf Planets. You may think you’re heard loud and clear across the universe, but let me ask you – when was the last time you’ve performed outside of your home in the Kuiper Belt?”
Pluto was at a loss for words for a moment. Then she fired back with a “That’s not important!”
“Oh, but I would imagine so.” Black Hole pointed at her. “When nobody has heard your song outside your own system – even outside of your own region – does it not strike you as hopeless? Are you not tempted to set down your guitar and give up?”
This time Pluto did not have an answer, nor could conjure one.
“I thought not.” He laid a ‘hand’ upon his lightless sphere, gazing upon it lovingly. “In any case, through my vortex, I am doing all of you a favor, though you may not realize it.” He turned back to them. “Existence is utterly meaningless. This being unchangeable, I wish to erase existence altogether.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just erase yourself?” Twilight blurted out. Me and my big mouth. Oh well, no going back now. “Just leave the rest of the universe alone that way!”
Black Hole chuckled. “Well proposed, lavender unicorn, but no.” He shook his ‘head.’ “It is not enough that I should be vanquished. In my journey of self-annihilation, I must take the universe with me as well – so come, all of you, come and abandon your futile efforts – a comfortable oblivion awaits.” He gestured to his vortex. “Is it not such a wonderful gift that I offer?”
Twilight looked around behind her. None of the others were even remotely pleased at his proposal. Least of all Pluto, who just had her significance thrown into question.
Then they all spoke, one at a time. “Honey, bless your heart and soul,” the Sun said, “but that attitude of yours ain’t gon’ cut it ’round these parts. Long as I still got light in my body, I’m gonna make sure you suffer before you fall.”
“And further, you shall not rob me of light whene’er I need it,” the Moon followed up. “This I swear to you – one strike ’gainst me, or any one of my friends, and you’ll soon regret.”
“You really aren’t as quick as I thought,” Mercury said. “In more ways than one, too!”
“Nor as elegant, might I add,” Venus cut in. “Quelle monstruosité! I shall see both you and your néant infini crumble before us, and the universe restored to that which it was before.”
“I’ve tried making nothing into art myself,” Mars said. “Talk about bo-ring! At least with a universe, there’s more to make than that.”
“I for one think of śūnyatā as something to visit in meditation,” said Jupiter. “Being in such a concept all the time would be most intolerable.” All four of Jupiter’s pets quickly agreed with her – Io growling, teeth bared, Callisto’s hair on end, claws out – even Europa, docile as she was, was ready to fight.
Saturn then had the nerve to throw off her headphones. Out from her cell phone, she said, “I’ve heard rumors about you, too. Can’t say any of them were good. So how about you drop your act before I drop the beat onto you? Believe me, you wouldn’t like to hear it.”
“I know you,” Uranus said. “No, I don’t think you quite understand – I know you better than you know yourself. I know your weaknesses, your flaws – and how to exploit each one of them. Don’t think I’ll go easy on you – because I can promise you, none of us will.”
“You’re a real fish out of water around here,” Neptune added. “Trying to throw us off our groove – we’ll show you what it’s like to wipe out.”
After a raging delay, Pluto finally said, “I’ll pummel you into pieces just as fast as you can put yourself back together.”
“You can probably tell by now that all of us much prefer existing in the universe rather than. . . well, not existing,” Milky Way concluded. Nicely put. “And I’ve got something you don’t have – yet.”
“Oh?” This caught Black Hole’s attention. Several much larger ‘eyes’ formed in his primordial tar, intensely focusing on her. “Do tell, my dear Milky Way.”
In her hand, Milky Way produced the ten fragments of Black Hole’s planetoid. “Across this one solar system,” she told him, “I found all of these fragments of your prison – with the help of the solar sisterhood standing here before you. And we’ll stay together, until you’re sealed away and the universe is safe again.”
“Which does not explain your companion!” Black Hole pointed straight at Twilight.
Oh dear, this isn’t good. . . . Twilight cleared her throat. “The only reason I’m here is a magical mishap with a new book I got,” she told Black Hole. “Which is none of your business, by the way – or were you behind that as well?”
“I cannot say of such a possibility,” he said. “Regardless, you are also welcome to join me in oblivion.” He pointed to the pulsating vortex. “Why worry about books, or home? Such things sound irrelevant.”
Books. . . irrelevant? Twilight thought. Then her brow furrowed, and her horn lit. Okay, this just got personal! “You haven’t the slightest idea who you’re talking to, do you?” she asked, in a heavily-tempered rage. She grabbed a random piece with her magic from Milky Way’s hand. Let’s see. . . . She focused on one edge of Black Hole’s fragment, found a matching edge, then cast a teleportation spell onto the piece.
She blinked.
“Uh, Twilight?” Milky Way asked. “Not sure what you were planning, but nothing happened.”
Black Hole chuckled. “You have the audacity to wield your magic against me, little unicorn? How naïve. How pathetic.” He cast a hand at her. “If you think you can stop me that way, you are sorely mistaken.”
Okay, have it your way, Twilight thought. Time for plan B. Again in her magic, she grabbed each piece and floated them over to each respective girl – do I seriously still know which girl had which piece? Twilight pondered. Well, I know Mars’s; that one’s easy. Venus’s is acid-worn, the Sun’s a bit warped from heat – yes, that should do it.
Once each girl had their respective piece, Twilight hopped down from Milky Way – by Celestia, that’s a strong pull – and kept her horn lit. “And for the record,” she told Black Hole, “I did most of the work getting each of these fragments. Don’t think you can scatter them off so easily again – I’ll just catch them in my magic faster than you can throw.”
“We shall see, my dear Twilight,” Black Hole taunted.
Don’t try to flatter me. . . . Twilight charged up her horn, but Uranus quickly stopped her before she could act rashly. “He’s right about that,” Uranus whispered to Twilight. “Using magic, I mean. If we’re going to stop Black Hole’s vortex, the best way to do it would be to lock up Black Hole himself – and the only way of doing that would be to intervene directly. But once that’s done, the vortex will collapse in on itself.”
“And the rest of the universe?” she whispered back. “What would happen to it?”
Uranus shrugged. “I have a few working hypotheses, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
The Sun apparently must have overheard them. “Why don’t I start this off?” she asked them. “What do I do?”
“He’s standing on what is essentially the keystone for the rest of his planet,” Uranus explained. “Each piece will attach itself in the right spot, and when they’re all in place, the vortex will take care of itself.”
“And who will look after the planetoid when we’re done?” Twilight asked. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not have something like this happen again.”
“You and me both,” the Sun replied. “My guess is someone here will keep an eye on it, so this system will get a new planet or satellite.”
“I shall enlist my services,” the Moon offered. “I’ve always wondered what ’twas like to have a satellite of mine own.”
“Perfect,” the Sun said. “Alright, now let’s get this party started.” She stepped forward, and shone an especially brilliant, glorious light towards Black Hole.
His vortex was unaffected, but Black Hole almost immediately became agitated. He cried out in agony as his form started shifting even faster, threatening to melt altogether onto his fragment.
The Sun was unbothered by all this – but what did bother her was the incessant, and ever-strengthening, pull of the vortex, not to mention Black Hole’s erratic, chaotic orbital path. Even I’m having trouble calculating it, Twilight thought. Even so, the Sun managed to reach him, her light not faltering once, much to Black Hole’s woe.
However, her finding the correct spot proved to be much clumsier than Twilight’s. At first she felt around the edges while hanging on for dear life, pulling her legs up to make sure no part of her slipped inside the vortex, lest she and her fragment be lost forever. Ultimately, she gave up on that and just hovered the fragment in front of whichever edge would accept it.
Please don’t be upside-down, Twilight silently pleaded.
Finally, the piece snapped to one edge of Black Hole’s platform. She pushed on it, firmly, and found that it did not give at all. Once she found the other girls waiting for her, she grabbed on and launched herself off into the crowd.
At least, that was her intention. She found that the vortex’s gravity was so strong, she too was pulled into an erratic orbit around it – and worse, Twilight noted, she was being pulled in closer and closer, almost glancing its event horizon. Not even her light could shine through into it.
Okay, think quickly now, the unicorn told herself. Black Hole said I can’t use magic at all against him or his vortex – I’ve tried the former, too. But he never mentioned anything about using magic on other things near him. She powered up her horn. I’ve never tried something like this before, but with the Sun’s life on the line, it’s worth a shot. She warmed up a teleportation spell, while also calculating how much mana she would need to pull the Sun away from the vortex, even accounting for gravitational pull – I’ll just have to ballpark it. Sorry, Sun!
And in an instant, just before the Sun slipped into an irreversible downward spiral, she found herself on her back in front of a somewhat drained Twilight. “That was way too close,” the unicorn said. “I really can’t do that for all of you – that spell took a lot out of me, and I’ve only got so much to go around with.”
“Wouldn’t want you to, anyway,” the Sun said. “That ride was a real whiplash, I tell you what.”
Gah, I knew I should’ve boosted the gravity factor. “Regardless, that’s one down, and. . . .” Twilight turned to see all the other girls waiting. “. . . nine more to go. Oh dear.”
“Hey, you did great,” Uranus said. “And look at that!” She pointed at the piece the Sun had just put into place – and as they all watched, it somehow enlarged itself until it was a perfect fit. Huh, interesting, Twilight thought. It almost looks like a face of a dodecahedron. But if that’s true, that’s two pieces there, and we have nine more. . . oh dear. One of these better count for two faces.
By now, Black Hole had regained his composure – or at least, as close to composure as an ever-shifting mass of a tar-like substance could get – and had trained his focus onto Twilight. “A clever pony you must be,” he seemingly commended. “And yet, you only have one fragment reunited. Can you say the same for the others?”
“Indeed you can.” The Moon cleared her throat, and started reciting another of her poëms:
Into the darkness bring me forth a glow To guide and guard me as I tread so slow; Keep me from straying into pressure’s flow To keep him once again within his hollow.
Somehow, Black Hole remained silent through her reading the whole work – and a moment after the Moon finished, he boasted, “That had no effect upon me, shy one. What was that meant to do?”
“You’ll see in time.” The Moon took one cautious step, then another – as though even she wasn’t confident in her words. Yet as she tread, she never slipped on her skates, nor did she feel the effects of the vortex on her, save for her dress and hair being pulled almost magnetically towards the pulsating sphere.
As she got close to Black Hole, he started hissing in pain, and as with the Sun, his fluid form became agitated. Evidently, she had been paying attention to what the Sun had been doing, and scribbled down a quick poëm to do more or less the same thing herself, by making her eyes glow brightly. Unlike her orbs, or the Sun’s glow, this let the Moon cast her light strongly wherever she looked, but she had to keep her eyes on Black Hole at all times, lest he stop being affected.
Like the Sun, she deftly pulled out her fragment, and after feeling around for the edges, hovered it over each face of his platform, rotating it as she went along. After a few moments of tolerating the vortex’s tug and Black Hole’s incessant screaming, the piece snapped into place, and started expanding also to fill the spot. She calmly skated back to rejoin the others, to see everyone’s jaws dropped. “What?” she asked.
“Nothing, honey,” the Sun replied. “I’m just glad you made it out in one piece.”
“I’m more impressed that I didn’t need to cast another teleportation spell,” Twilight added. “Got anything else to help us?”
“Regrettably not,” the Moon said. “Though I should remind you, Twilight – that poëtry that I wrote for you is still within my grasp.”
The unicorn nodded. “I don’t think I’ll need it right now,” she said, “but I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Something wrong with Black Hole?” Milky Way asked. She pointed up to the still-writhing, still-grumbling mass.
“Perhaps my moonlight was a fair bit stronger than I meant,” the Moon hypothesized. “I merely meant to follow in the Sun’s lead, yet it seems I have misjudged my own potential.”
“Okay then,” Twilight said. “We know Black Hole is susceptible to light – ” perhaps his black form absorbing it has something to do with that aspect – “but only two – no, three of us can cast light on command. I can provide some for the others, but that would eat away at my magic reserves too much to allow for additional teleportation spells. Then there’s the Moon’s light orbs, but we don’t know how long they last, nor if she’s willing to cast more. And the Sun needs to get really close for her light to work.” She sighed. “What is a mare to do?” Surely Milky Way brings her own light for her travels – chime in anytime!
“I’ve got something!” Mercury chimed in. Not my intention, but it’s better than nothing. “How strong was that vortex’s gravity again, Sun?”
“Many times stronger than that of my star,” she answered. “Why?”
“Weeell. . . how likely is it that I can break loose if I get sucked in by accident?” she asked.
“Not possible, even with how fast you regularly go,” Twilight cut in. “You see how that sphere is perfectly black?” She pointed at it. “It’s because its gravitational pull is so strong, not even light can ‘break loose,’ as you put it.” She turned to her, looking a bit crossed. “Surely you’re not actually considering – ”
“Indeed, surely you would not be so foolish as to run right through my vortex.” What the – Twilight had to turn and look, as did the others. At some point, Black Hole had recovered from being lit up by the Moon, and was now looking right at the speedster. “But go ahead, prove me wrong. You seem not one to turn down a challenge.” He crossed his ‘arms’ in anticipation.
“You got it, old man!” Mercury snapped up her piece in her hands. With a slight start, she started off at a breakneck pace towards the black hole. Heeding their words, she kept her distance from the vortex, despite its gravitational pull persistently persuading her to fall in.
“Okay, let’s just orbit right out of here,” she said to herself. She angled her skates to try to inject her trajectory out of the vortex’s orbit – but she misjudged its gravity, and no matter how much force she applied or how fast her velocity was, she was stuck. Worse, fatigue was starting to set in, and she realized it only took one drop in speed below a certain point before she would tumble in, never to be seen again. “Okay, this is bad,” she said. “This is really, really bad.” She started panicking, looking around for something to help her. But not even Black Hole was coming up in her path. “Twilight!” she shouted, out of desperation. “Help me!”
Which she eventually heard. Tried to warn her. . . . Twilight lit her horn, and cast a teleportation spell, along with a trigger field with its sensitivity at the maximum allowable. She positioned it right on Mercury’s orbit, and let it loose.
In a violet shower of sparks, Mercury landed right in front of Twilight. She sat up and started catching her breath, noting the wheels on her skates still spinning. “Thanks, Twilight,” she said between breaths. “I owe you one.”
“Might take you up on that,” Twilight said. At least the time dilation’s pretty generous, surprisingly. “Now, remember what I said – you need to go faster than light to escape from his vortex, but we don’t know how exactly much faster, so you really don’t want to chance it.”
“Right, right, I got it.” After some stretches, Mercury stood back up on her skates. She took off back to the vortex again, this time betting on timing it right. She eyed Black Hole first, and moved to orbit at just the right time to meet up with him.
In what seemed to be a snapshot in time, she sized up the edges along Black Hole’s planetary shell, grabbed her fragment, and rapidly spun it on a fingertip as she guided it along the outer edge. Just as she thought she was going to lose it, it snapped into place, leaving Mercury with one objective: survive.
“Okay, gotta go fast,” she reminded herself. “Really, really stupid fast. I’m good at that, at least.” Mercury was capable of skating at the literal speed of light – but Twilight insisted faster. Mercury pushed herself to her limits, then forced herself to surpass them. Eventually, to her surprise, she started seeing a much more vibrantly-colored world in front of her than usual, not to mention seeing it also warped into a point in front of her. She looked behind – and could only see darkness, as light failed to keep up with her. She then realized she had broken the light-speed barrier – which meant she could now break free from the vortex’s gravitational pull.
And broke free she did – and after looping around the girls to shed the velocity she gained, she skidded to a halt right behind them, still swaying from the colorful trip. “Woah,” she eventually said. “That. . . was. . . trippy. ”
“Yeah, when you compress light in front of you, you’ll see some strange things,” Twilight clarified. “But that’s not the weirdest thing about it – not by a long shot!” The unicorn pointed at the vortex – and Mercury was almost spooked to see herself still running around it, just as she had before. “You’ve arrived before you finished,” Twilight said.
“Well, hot diggity!” the Sun added. “Now you can beat yourself in a race if you wanted to, sugar.”
“Well. . . .” Black Hole looked down and saw Mercury’s newly-placed fragment. “It seems you have bested even my own reflexes, Mercury.” He extended his hand to the crowd. “Come now, which of you is next?”
“C’est moi!” Venus cried. She skated over to Black Hole, tiptoeing her way so her wheels wouldn’t drag her into the vortex. She snatched up his hands – or at least tried to, given his amorphous form. “May I have this dance, monsieur?” she asked.
Black Hole grumbled. “Make it quick,” he gruffly replied.
“Très bon!” She tightened her grip on Black Hole, and in a twirl led him around his vortex, making sure to keep her distance from the event horizon. The centrifugal force this caused threatened to tear apart Black Hole – but his form remained consistent enough that this was impossible.
“What is the meaning of this?” Black Hole said. “Your movements make no sense.”
“Sometimes, my dear,” Venus replied – “sometimes they don’t need to make any sense.” She locked eyes with Black Hole’s impromptu peepers – but as she was about to make a move with her fragment, Black Hole reflexively swiped her hand away.
“I know that trick of yours,” Black Hole said. “If you wish to distract me, you’ll have to do better than that. I am all eyes.”
“Ah, yes,” she said, “but savor the moment, s’il vous plaît! We have all night together, you and I.” They continued to tango around the vortex, Venus leading her reluctant partner into a dizzying array of maneuvers.
These mesmerized Twilight – amazing how daintily Venus carries herself, and yet, how persuasive as well! she thought. If she’s planning on distracting him, she’s definitely playing the long game – though hopefully not too long of one.
Eventually, once Venus was absolutely certain that Black Hole was disoriented enough, she overswayed Black Hole, effectively putting him in a blind spot, then pulled out her fragment and looked for its matching spot. It took her only a moment, with it snapping right into place, and she then pulled Black Hole back upright. “Merci beaucoup!” She bowed, finally let go of him, then tiptoed away from him and back to the others. “Well. . . that was easy.”
“If you say so,” Twilight said. “Now, who’s on next – ”
“Ooh, ooh! Pick me! Pick me!” Mars was waving her hand high above the crowd, to where even Twilight could see it.
Oh, brother. . . . “Go ahead, Mars,” she said, “but be careful. That vortex is not a toy!”
“You got it!” After a mock salute, Mars strutted over to a still-dizzy Black Hole, cracking her knuckles. “Let’s make something unique!” she said. “You’ll be my material, got it?”
If she can somehow shove him in a kiln, Twilight thought, I’d like to see what that heat would do to him.
Despite Black Hole’s lack of solidity, Mars made the most of her material, even taking advantage of its dripping, runny nature by letting it drip down where she wanted it. Whenever Black Hole formed an eye to get a look at Mars, she quickly covered it up, never missing a beat. By the time she was done, she stepped aside to show her friends what she had made.
Well, it’s something alright, Twilight thought. Mars had sculpted Black Hole into what looked like a cubic tree, branching every which way she could think of. Black Hole then poked an eye through one branch, swiveling it around to look at itself. “What have you done to me?” he spoke, the substance vibrating all over.
“Hmm. . . .” Mars then looked at her new creation with a more objective eye. “You’re right, this doesn’t do you any justice. Hang on!” She then compressed Black Hole back down into a large, sticky ball, then reshaped him into an equine figure, front hoof raised, mane and tail straightened into perfectly-straight bangs, before adding a horn, almost as an afterthought.
Twilight blushed. She’s actually spot-on, she thought – honestly, this might be the most normal thing Mars has made.
Lastly, Mars placed her fragment into the lifted hoof. She took a step back, then stepped aside to show the others.
“Well done, Mars!” the Sun said. “This might honestly be your best creation yet!” Then she noticed Black Hole’s form in flux. “Though it won’t last forever.”
As Mars got clear of Black Hole, he morphed back into his usual self with little trouble, throwing the fragment down. “You’ve made a mockery of me long enough, Mars!” he almost shouted. Then he heard a sharp clink of a fragment reuniting with his platform. “And in that time, you still found had the audacity to – ”
“Nope! You did it yourself, silly!” Mars stuck her tongue out at Black Hole. She then flounced back to the crowd, all of whom were varying degrees of amazed at her trickery.
“Leave it to the artist to find a creative way to distract the villain,” Mercury quipped.
Mars giggled. “Who else but me?” Then she turned to Jupiter. “Your turn!”
“You sure about that?” Jupiter said. “I don’t think my pets would appreciate getting sucked in – I certainly won’t.”
“Leave that to me,” Twilight reassured. “It’s much easier for me to teleport all four of them back at once than just you.”
“Good to know.” Jupiter nodded. After thinking of a plan of attack, she called out, “Io! Europa! Ganymede! Callisto!” She pointed at Black Hole. “Sic ’im!”
As though like a switch, each of the four animals instantly resumed their aggressive stances – and charged at Black Hole. Io shook his helmet from his head – which Twilight quickly scooped up in her magic. He quickly rushed in and bit down onto Black Hole. Unlike being exposed to bright light, here Black Hole was unperturbed – merely seeing Io as a minor annoyance that still commanded his attention.
Callisto flared her claws, and started scratching away at his form. Somehow, she was ripping chunks of his mass away from him. This both got more of his attention, letting Io continue his work, and let Europa and Ganymede burrow inside to cause a major disruption from inside.
“What infernal creatures are these!?” Black Hole bellowed, weakly, given his now sponge-like structure. “Get them off – get them off of me!” With a violent move, he managed to dislodge Io from himself, and flung him towards the vortex.
Not on my watch, Io! With a quick teleportation spell, she brought Io back to her, then slipped his helmet back onto him. Io didn’t seem that much worse for wear, despite the apparent lack of air. So what’s really going on with him – and the others? Io tried to return to the fight, but Twilight held him back with her magic. “I think you’ve done enough for today,” she told him.
Io whimpered, but otherwise did not resist.
With slow, carefully-orchestrated movements, Jupiter strode up to a struggling Black Hole, trying to throw off Callisto and eject Europa and Ganymede, but having no luck with any. She slipped her fragment right into its place, somehow knowing exactly where it was supposed to go without any guesswork, then strode carefully back to the crowd. “Europa! Ganymede! Callisto!” she called back. “Come!” She gestured with a finger.
Without further hesitation, Callisto stopped her attack and jetted back to her master. Europa and Ganymede both dug their ways out of Black Hole’s tar, then too jetted away. Then everyone noticed that Black Hole actually started to shrink away back into his increasingly-concave planetoid prison. “It’s definitely doing something to him,” Twilight commented.
“And to his vortex!” Uranus pointed at it, and Twilight noted that it was smaller than before. “Unfortunately, its building density means its gravity is only going to get stronger the closer we get,” Uranus added. “We’re going to have to be a lot more careful from here on out.”
Saturn pulled out her cell phone, keeping a tighter grip on it than usual. “I think I have a solution,” she said through it. “Rumor has it that loud concerts can keep him away. Why don’t I put that to the test?”
“With what?” Twilight asked. “You left all your turntable equipment, your amps, and your records behind. How can you pull that off?”
“Simple.” Saturn then started pushing the phone’s buttons in a very specific and very peculiar combination. Dear Princess Celestia, here it comes. . . . Twilight shut her ears, anticipating something incredibly loud. When Saturn was finished, she held her phone high, and let it play out a tune. It wasn’t as loud as Twilight thought – so she uncovered her ears to hear what was essentially random cacophony. No time for perfection, just have to use something, she surmised. Definitely a much reduced bassline. But what about Black – oh. Well, how about that?
Black Hole was shaking like crazy – as opposed to shifting rapidly as though he were exposed to light, sound apparently made him vibrate, as though he were waves upon an infinitely-dark, gelatinous sea. It was so bad for him, he couldn’t even speak at all.
Saturn started approaching him, and his vortex – and she soon noticed a very strong tug on her hand. Her eyes went wide, and she immediately clipped her phone to the front of her pants, to keep it from going in altogether, and with it her advantage. Even when kept firmly in place, it still had a strong tendency to break and fly off. Still, Saturn did not let that bother her at all, and continued carefully advancing towards Black Hole, fragment already in hand.
When she got close enough to see the slight specks of orange in Black Hole’s form, neither of them said anything. He probably didn’t realize she was standing right before him. Saturn pulled out her piece and, carefully, looked for its proper place, taking her time. She soon found it, and it snapped firmly in place. As Saturn watched, Black Hole shrank away further into his prison, and the vortex collapsed further into itself – and its gravity only got stronger. She killed the ‘music’ on her cell phone, and switched it back to her speaking. “Got it!” she called back – which Twilight noticed was somewhat delayed, probably due to the nearby gravity well.
“Gotta say,” Twilight admitted once Saturn made her way back, “I did not see that coming.” And looking over to a now-calmed Black Hole, “And I bet he didn’t either, did he?”
Black Hole grumbled. “And now, all of you can see one boon of the abyss,” he said. “Silence! Nothing can bother you when nothing is.”
“Talk all you like, Black Hole,” Uranus cut in, “but we both know you’re almost put back away.” She pushed her way through the crowd. “Pardon me, girls – I’ve got something to settle with the villain of the hour.” Slowly, and especially mindful of the looming gravity well nearby, she walked up to Black Hole. “So. We finally meet, nemesis.”
“Indeed,” Black Hole replied. “You have mentioned knowing me quite well. But pray, what?”
Uranus snapped up a book she had brought with her for the journey – the same one she read from about Black Hole! Twilight noticed – and flipped it open to close to the middle. Wait, isn’t that – “When the Universe was birthed in the Big Bang,” she read, “gravity did not exist at first. It was far too hot and far too small to allow for empty space. Once the Universe had cooled. . . .”
Twilight was a bit surprised. Didn’t she read all of this to us before? she thought. So why is she doing it again, now? Not that she minded hearing such a fascinating history – it just seemed odd for Uranus to recite it at this time.
And it seemed even Black Hole was getting bored of it himself. “What is the point of you doing this?” he demanded. “Tell me at once!”
But Uranus merely waved her hand, quieting him. “However,” she continued, “should Black Hole ever be loosed upon the cosmos again, the consequences will be dire, and swift – ”
“Indeed they will be,” he thundered, “if you do not stop your infuriating nonsense!” A great lump of tar shot out and grabbed Uranus by her shirtcollar. “Get on with it.”
“I’ll get to it in due time,” Uranus said. “Now pay attention!” She returned to her book. “In the following era of constant expansion, myriad beings of the stars came into existence. . . .” Hmm, Twilight thought. I was expecting a deeper process than that, but alright then.
Black Hole apparently couldn’t stand Uranus droning on and on anymore – he simply put away his ‘eyes,’ absorbing them into himself, and chose not to pay attention to such random drivel, lest the girl drive him mad. He was tempted to simply toss her into the vortex, but then that violet unicorn would simply step in and stop her from tumbling to her demise –
Clink.
Startled awake, Black Hole looked down at his planetoid, just in time to see a newly-placed fragment – before he started shrinking down even further within. He said nothing, choosing instead to stew in his anger at having been tricked for what felt like the umpteenth time.
Uranus, meanwhile, simply skated back to join the others – though she miscalculated the now-stronger pull of the vortex and swung a bit wide.
“But. . . how?” was all Twilight could muster. “And why?”
Uranus laughed. “That served two purposes,” she explained. “He could either see the error of his ways and somehow reverse the vortex, or get so bored from me reading about him that he wouldn’t notice me attach my piece.” She firmly shut her book. “Either way, I win.”
“Gotta say Uranus, that’s rather clever of you,” Twilight said. “Definitely wouldn’t have worked on me, though.” She turned to the other girls. “Neptune, care to take this next one?”
“Righteous!” Neptune snapped up her surfboard. “Just give me a moment, I’ve got something that’ll blow your mind!”
Twilight looked to Uranus, concerned about what Neptune was thinking.
“Usually when she says that,” Uranus whispered to Twilight, “she means she’s about to pull off a rather dangerous stunt.” She pointed, rolling her eyes. “And of course she would bring her favorite board for that. I just hope she’s ready to cut her losses when it gets pulled into the vortex – and note that I say ‘when’ and not ‘if.’”
Yeah, here’s hoping. As Twilight watched, Neptune strode up not to Black Hole, but to the vortex itself. She sighed, and warmed up another teleportation spell – she’s definitely going to get herself killed someday. The unicorn could already feel the effects of arcane deficiency coursing through herself – but the job was nearly done, and she suspected Pluto would not need any of her help.
With perhaps misplaced confidence, Neptune grabbed her board and planted it on the surface of the side of the vortex. To Twilight’s shock, it did not enter its gravity well – it didn’t even sink in at all. Must be the same reason why she’s able to surf the Kuiper Sea at all, Twilight surmised. Then Neptune got on top of it – the gravity keeping her firmly in place – and pushed her skates along the surface to generate enough thrust.
The vortex, as much as it had shrank back, still dominated the girls’ field of vision – so it was a while before Neptune came back around. She wasn’t done yet, and had disappeared around again. Even Black Hole looked on in confusion – if only because she didn’t immediately sink right in.
Once Neptune was confident enough that she had brought herself up to speed, she started moving her board side to side – somehow kicking the vortex out of its spherical shape. “How is that possible?” Twilight found herself asking aloud.
“I don’t know,” Uranus admitted, “but it seems to be working – look what it’s doing to him!”
Black Hole looked like he had just about lost his mind – he was flopping about inside his almost-sealed enclosure, yet never bouncing out. Neptune must have been paying attention to Uranus mentioning the link between him and the vortex, and was exploiting it to the fullest. Guess she’s not the beach bum I thought her to be, Twilight thought.
After a few minutes of this, Neptune eventually came to a stop. With a surprising amount of strength, she leapt off the board, then peeled it off the surface of the vortex. When she (eventually) made her way to Black Hole, she found him completely dazed and confused from the ordeal. Even with him “looking” directly at her, Neptune simply placed her fragment in place, without any resistance, then confidently returned to the crowd.
Only then did Twilight retract her teleportation spell – her arcane reserves refilling somewhat. “That was too close, Neptune,” she commented. “But we’re just about done. Pluto?”
“Never thought you’d say the word,” Pluto said. She cracked her knuckles, grabbed her fragment, and marched over to Black Hole. Strangely, she didn’t feel any resistance from the vortex – no sign of any gravitational pull whatsoëver.
Twilight looked to the Moon – who simply shrugged. “I had not given her a spell to push past this,” the Moon told her. Okay, if she’s not involved, then. . . .
“My guess is she’s spent so much time in the dark,” the Sun proposed, “that she’s used to seeing vortexes like that.”
Vortexes in general, maybe – but that one? Twilight found this hard to believe, even as she saw it happen. Surely there’s a much better explanation than that!
Even so, not even Pluto’s hair was being pulled in. By the time she could get a good look at Black Hole, despite being in a completely pitch-black husk of a rock, she looked just as ready to pulverize him as when she first saw his vortex at the system’s doorstep.
By now, Black Hole had recovered just enough to see the black-and-white girl standing over him. “But surely, Pluto,” he said, “you can take pity upon a downtrodden soul like I.”
“Downtrodden? Pff.” Pluto raised a fist, and brought it down onto him, hard. For once, Black Hole whimpered at the impact. “Heh, feels like dough,” she commented. “But don’t call yourself downtrodden, you!” She swung again, and again, to much the same result. “All I see! – is some menace! – threatening my home! – Threatening my friends!” she said between strikes. “And I don’t! – cotton! – to any! – of it! – at all!” After several more punches and kicks, Black Hole was weakly begging for mercy, to which he only got a brash “Shut up already!”
Thought she’d resort to using her heavy metal music, Twilight thought. Guess physical force is just more ‘brutal’ for her taste.
By the time Pluto had run out of breath, Black Hole had been well-kneaded into one corner of his planetoid shell. “Maybe next time don’t pick a fight you can’t win,” she told him. She unceremoniously placed her fragment in place, and watched as he and the vortex shrank back even more.
Twilight watched as Pluto skated back, confidently. “I’d say that’s a job well done,” she said. “Now, about getting Twilight home, right Milky Way?”
“Yeah. . . .” Hadn’t heard her speak for a while. Guess she didn’t have much to say. “About that – ”
“Hold that thought,” Uranus interrupted. She had her finger on a page in her book. “If I’m reading this correctly – and I typically am – the vortex collapse should be happening instantaneously.” She looked up. “And yet it hasn’t,” she added. “Something must’ve gone wrong.”
“Should I pound him down some more?” Pluto asked, almost too eagerly. “Is that what you want?”
“No, it’s not that at all.” Uranus closed her book and looked carefully at Black Hole’s repaired planetoid. Then her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. “I can’t believe it. It’s that we’re actually still missing a piece! After all this time. . . .”
“Well, where could it have gone?” the Sun asked. “Milky Way, you were so sure every fragment landed in our solar system. We’ve searched every bit of our solar system, outside in – any place we could have looked, we looked over thoroughly.”
“There’s still the matter of searching the Main Belt,” Jupiter offered. “But the Kuiper Sea and Belt is basically hopeless.” She sighed.
“What fool do you all take me for?” Black Hole asked – his voice echoing through the rock’s hollowed-out opening. “When Milky Way freed me, I scattered every piece but one away from me – the last I had the foresight to cast out of this universe altogether, out of your reach no matter where you go.” He laughed. “You would need every piece to stop me, and yet, now, you find it is completely impossible to gather them all.”
“How is he not climbing out of there?” Twilight whispered, carefully, so as not to give Black Hole any ideas.
“He simply can’t,” the Moon explained, in a plain voice. “These stones we’ve placed prevent him.”
Oh well, isn’t that convenient? But the issue still stands – “Where is this place, ‘outside of this universe’?” Twilight demanded. “Tell us – right now!”
But Black Hole remained silent, and his vortex kept working its gravitational pull on the rest of the universe.
Pluto turned and saw her own planet start getting pulled in. “You got a death wish, old man!?” she bellowed. “Quit it!”
Twilight simply resigned to lying down on the stellar plane, losing all hope of going home. She had come so far, only to be foiled by mere trickery. She would never see Equestria again. She would never walk in the streets of Canterlot to and from Celestia’s School, never write or get a letter from Princess Celestia, never spend time with her dear Spike again –
Hey, wait a minute. Spike? Twilight suddenly remembered the object Spike found on the way to the bookshop – the very same object that she was looking at when they got back to their dorm, that had traveled with her when she was raptured by that cursed poëm. . . that was still attached to her with a ballantine spell.
A look of stark realization came over her – and with it, several scattered thoughts. I had a fragment on me the whole time, and I didn’t realize it? Then: Equestria must have been that place outside this universe that Black Hole mentioned – no wonder I couldn’t teleport myself back to Canterlot; it must be in another universe! But then why would the book bring me out here? Who wrote the poëm? Is Black Hole bent on doing the same to all of existence? Is Equestria also in danger?
“Twilight? Are you okay?” Milky Way nudged her stomach with a skate. “You look like you spaced out for a moment.”
Spaced out. . . very funny. “It’s nothing.” Shakily, she got back up on her hooves. “Although I think I have a solution to our dilemma.” Twilight finally undid the ballantine spell, and presented the fragment to her. “Look, I know what you’re about to say – ”
“Yeah, that would’ve been nice to know when I first met you,” Milky Way chastised. “Where did you find it, anyway? How long have you had that?”
Twilight sighed. “I had just gotten out of school and was walking to the bookshop,” she explained. “Spike told me found it on the ground on the way there. I had no idea what it was when I looked at it in the dorm, and when I got, well. . . here, it somehow came with me.” She looked over it once again – noting its equine sigil and pentagonal shape, which would fit the last gap perfectly. “I never knew it would be so vital – good thing I kept it on me, I guess.”
Black Hole growled. “I knew I should not have left a backdoor,” he told himself, though the others could hear him. “Perhaps that parallel reality was not my finest choice.”
Yeah, you think? “A backdoor?” Twilight asked. “You think that’s how I got here?”
“Oh, sure, if you’re not careful,” Uranus said. “But that depends on what triggered the event. What were you last doing when it happened?”
“I was reading a new book I had just bought,” Twilight said. “To be more specific, there was this one poëm on a page by itself. Something about eleven girls. . . .” Twilight looked at the Moon, as did everyone else.
“It was not me!” the Moon protested. “I do not have the skill to bring another here!” Though after a moment of consideration, she added, “As I recall, this rapture was a failsafe – meant if Black Hole tried concealing fragments out of reach.”
“Guess I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Twilight concluded. “Now I’m glad it was me and not somepony else.” She grabbed her fragment in her magic, and hovered it in front of herself. “Let’s see. . . .” She rotated the piece carefully, eying it against the silhouette of the remaining hole in Black Hole’s planetoid, making sure they lined up. “I hope this works. Milky Way, a little help?” she asked. “I don’t trust my horseshoes with the gravity well.”
“Sure.” Milky Way grabbed Twilight’s midsection and held her aloft. Carefully, Milky Way made her way towards the planetoid. Twilight felt a strong tug on her mane and tail from the vortex – I can’t imagine how the girls must have felt, she thought. Still, I mustn’t let them down now, not when we’re so close.
Once Twilight was close enough to see Black Hole’s faint orange glow, he asked her, “Are you sure you want to place that fragment, Twilight?”
“Yes!” she insisted. “Then Milky Way would be able to send me back – as per our deal.”
“Is that so?” Three orange “eyes” poked out, and several more features dotted up in what looked like a sneer. “But how would you know what she is capable of? I can certainly send you home, safe and sound – with a souvenir, might I add.”
Actually, that’s a rather tempting offer, Twilight thought. Why am I worrying about these girls at all? I’m just for a way back to Equestria – and if Black Hole can send me back, that’ll work out splendidly for me.
“You’re not seriously considering his deal, are you?” Milky Way asked. “After all we’ve done together, after all the times we’ve helped each other – why now, Twilight? You think we can’t do what he can, is that it?”
But then again. . . . “Thank you,” she eventually said.
Milky Way gasped, recoiling in horror – as did the other. Black Hole seemed rather smug.
“For the offer, I mean,” Twilight followed up. “But a promise is a promise – right, Milky Way?”
Milky Way stared down at Twilight – then lit up with a smile. “Yes!” she cheered, sounding relieved.
Crisis averted. “Besides,” Twilight asked Black Hole, “how do I know you won’t do the same to Equestria?” She started moving the fragment closer.
“No!” he cried out. “I won’t let you win this, burdenous beast!” Then Twilight noticed the vortex’s strength increasing severalfold – to the point where even Milky Way was having trouble hanging on. Her telekinesis was slipping, as Twilight now had to struggle against another, much stronger force. This is getting to be too much, she thought. “Moon?” Twilight called out. “I need your spell!”
“Then you shall have it!” The Moon quickly summoned it, and tossed it in Twilight’s direction, taking the gravity of the vortex into account. “Here!”
Twilight grabbed it in her telekinesis as it orbited around. She unfurled it and started reading aloud:
Twinkle, twinkle, in the night, Magic borne from violet light – What a sight! With its might, Power brought to greater height.
As she spoke, she felt her telekinesis strengthen substantially, as though her magic reserves were being refilled. Maybe that’s what’s happening, she thought.
“No! No! No!” Black Hole sounded desperate. But his begging was futile, as Twilight finally lodged the final fragment in place. The sigil lit in white, its light spreading across all the cracks in the planetoid – until it was completely sealed and Black Hole could no longer be heard from within.
“I’ve done it!” Twilight called out – which was answered with cheering from everyone else. Once Twilight and Milky rejoined the others, she asked, “So now what?”
“Let me see. . . .” Uranus flipped her book open and scanned the page carefully. “. . . as the local group soon found, when Black Hole was imprisoned, the vortex he had created vanquished itself in a most violent eruption, restoring all the contents of the universe it had drawn in up to that point. Those who stood in its vicinity were scattered along with the debris.” She looked up to see a very unstable vortex on the verge of collapse. “Uh-oh.”
“Duck and cover!” was all Twilight could manage before a massive explosion shook the cosmos. Twilight felt herself traveling at a ridiculously high velocity – is this lightspeed? she pondered. She couldn’t open her eyes to check, but instead covered her face with her hooves. Please don’t die, please don’t die – oh Princess Celestia, please don’t let me die. . . .
And she didn’t. Once Twilight felt herself slow down sufficiently, she lifted a hoof away from an eye, and found she had come to a halt – by the third planet in the system. A blue-and-green marble hung in the space above her, and nearby it an ashen-gray satellite – where the Moon, Milky Way, and another girl she couldn’t recognize had apparently been waiting for her. “You okay?” Milky Way got up and skated over to her.
“Ugh. . . .” Twilight lifted her head up. “What just happened?”
“You stopped Black Hole and his vortex,” Milky Way said. “We’ve won, Twilight. It’s all over.”
Twilight sighed in relief. “It wasn’t easy. . . .” She got back up on her hooves. “Black Hole put up quite the last stand, I will say – but I’m glad that’s finally dealt with.” She looked around, but couldn’t find any of the other girls. “Where’d the others go?” she asked.
“They all got flung back to their respective planets in the collapse,” Milky Way explained. “Uranus told me you’d end up around here, but she had to check her math on paper. Guess she was right!” She giggled. “She sends her regards, by the way.”
“A pony!” The third girl – a very young one at that, now that Twilight realized it – skated right up to her. “Can I keep it, Milky Way? Huh? Huh?”
Didn’t Milky Way mention having a sister? What was her name? . . . “Sorry Andromeda,” Milky Way said. Andromeda! That was it! “This little pony’s trying to find her way home, and I’m helping her get there.”
“Aww, no fair.” Andromeda started sulking.
“How did she get here, anyway?” Twilight asked Milky Way. “I thought you said you didn’t bring your sister.”
Milky Way sighed. “She just got pulled into the vortex at some point,” she answered. “All the more reason to stop him, looking back.”
“Yeah, that was way too close.” Twilight cleared her throat. “So, how exactly can you send me home? From what I remember, you can’t travel between universes – and the only one who can has been sealed away.”
“No permanent predicament,” the Moon replied. “Now come! I’ll show you what I’ve found.”
Despite being even more tired from the ordeal, Twilight still got up and followed Milky Way to the Moon’s home satellite – with Andromeda following close behind. Her equine instincts told her to kick, but she tried to ignore them. Milky Way wouldn’t exactly smile at me for doing that. “So what’d you discover this time, Moon?” Twilight asked.
“I think I can hijack his power for our own use,” the Moon explained. “If what he said’s true, then you are but a spell away from home.” She summoned a fresh parchment and grabbed her pen. “Wherever home is. Would you please describe it? Be precise.”
Alright, where do I start with her? Twilight cleared her throat. “Every morning, our ruler, Princess Celestia, raises the sun to start the day. Um. . . .” Well, that’s not very imaginative, Twilight.
“Woah, cool!” Andromeda kept her eyes glued on Twilight now. “Tell me more!”
This is going well. What else? “There are three kinds of ponies: unicorns (like me), pegasi, and earth ponies. Regardless of kind, all of them have a cutie mark – ” she pointed to hers – “that signifies our special talents, whether it be for gardening, singing, building, healing – what have you. Mine is for magic, in case you’re wondering.”
“Woah. . . magic.” Even Milky Way found herself star-struck by Twilight’s account. “Do all unicorns have magic in them?”
“Well,” Twilight continued, “while all ponies use magic in some capacity, Princess Celestia selected me to be her very own student.” She noted Milky Way’s and Andromeda’s jaws drop at this. “Since that day many years ago, I’ve been studying to become one of the greatest mages in Equestria.” I hope that’s enough for the Moon to go off with, Twilight worried.
As the Moon kept scribbling, Andromeda asked Twilight, “Will you come back to visit us sometime?” She ran up to hug her, burying her face in the unicorn’s barrel. “I’ve always wanted a little pony for myself.”
Twilight returned her gesture. “Sorry Andromeda, but this little pony has friends of her own.” Well, Spike – that’s one friend, at least. “Besides, ponies don’t exactly make good exploration partners.”
Milky Way sighed dramatically, feigning irritation. “You have no idea just how much of a pain Twilight was,” she told her younger sister. “Trust me, you wouldn’t like working with her.”
Twilight feared that the Moon would object to Milky Way’s lie – but she merely winked at Twilight. “And now I have a spell to send you home.” She floated a parchment to the unicorn, who let go of Andromeda. “Prepare yourself!” the Moon told Twilight. “It may not be a gentle trip.”
“Well, I guess we’ll just have to see.” Twilight unfurled it and started reading the Moon’s newly-concocted work:
When in the dawn Celestia’s light strik’s all, The ponies frolic in the fields of green; Equestria hears the daily solar call Of sun-glow glinting in a pastel scene, The fresh winds carrying not a squall, The ponies working far as can be seen. Another shall rejoin them in due time, And sing alongside in their pony rhyme.
When Twilight finished reading, she expected time to stop moving, just as it had last time. Time kept progressing for her at the usual rate, but this time, she found her hooves glued firmly in place.
The girls decided to take a moment to say a few words of goodbye to her. “Thanks for all your help,” Milky Way told her. “I’ll try not to mess things up again, I promise.”
“I pray for your own safety,” the Moon added. “Even so, this universe will soon be short a hero. Fair winds, Twilight Sparkle.”
“Goodbye Twilight!” Andromeda waved enthusiastically. “I’m gonna miss you!”
Then everything grew silent, saturated, overexposed. . . until white was all Twilight could see.
Finally, Twilight felt the motion of being shook and heard somepony – or rather, somedragon – talking to her. “Urgh. . . .” She opened her eyes and found her number-one assistant, back again from the kitchen, desperately shaking her awake. “What just happened?” she asked him.
“You were sleeping, Twilight.” Spike got off of her and the bed. “I was wondering when you’d wake up. I’ve been calling you down for a while, but when you didn’t come I tried shaking you awake.” He chuckled. “Guess you were really out of it, huh?”
“Yeah, crazy dream.” She yawned. “I guess final exams really have an effect on me.”
“You just needed some sleep, apparently,” Spike explained. “And some lunch, too – now c’mon! It’s not like it’s getting any fresher.”
“Alright, alright, I’m on my way.” As she got up onto her hooves, Twilight looked on the side table – the object Spike found, her Fragment, was gone. So maybe it was not a dream after all, she thought. But how would I explain such a thing?
Once Twilight got down to the dining table, she saw the same daisy sandwich she saw Spike making, waiting for her. Glancing out the window, she saw it was still raining, but otherwise it was still daytime. She sat down with Spike and took a bite. “The first taste of summer,” she murmured to herself.
Spike rolled his eyes. “I’m guessing that book you got was so boring you fell asleep,” he remarked.
“Oh, no.” Twilight set the sandwich down. “Quite the opposite! I found myself just enraptured by this one section I was reading. It took me on a journey through time and space – ”
“Twilight. You need some food.” He pointed at her sandwich. “I’m sure whatever you’re talking about is world-changing, but you can tell me about it when you’re done.”
She sighed, and resumed eating. Milky Way, Black Hole, the other girls – they all felt so real to her, and yet it would be unbelievable even to Spike, who was by her side from the day he was hatched.
She had half a mind to return that book to the bookstore – but then, for the same reason, would they actually listen to her? The most they’ll do is consider reshelving it in the fiction section, and not write back to the publisher with her complaint.
Guess I’ll just have to live with my buy, she ultimately decided. And who knows? There might be something else in there worth reading about.
Once he noticed that she was finished with her sandwich, Spike suggested, “Say, would you mind coming with me downtown real quick?”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “What for?”
“Well, uh. . . .” Spike scratched the back of his neck. “Moondancer might be having a party in the Canterlot Castle courtyard. Thought I’d get her something before we head to Ponyville. What do you think?”
Twilight put a hoof to her chin. “I’ll think about it, if we have the time for it. In the meantime, why don’t we start getting ready for tomorrow’s trip to Ponyville?” She teleported a checklist in front of her.
“Well. . . .” He got up from the table. “If you ask me, I’d rather you go back to telling me about your ‘journey through time and space’ or something like that.”
“Why not both?” She grabbed the list in her magic, and unfurled it. “The faster we work, the more I’ll tell you. Sound good?” She passed it to Spike.
With a smirk, Spike started them off. “First. . . .”
☆
The next day, just as scheduled, was much more like summer. Twilight checked out her bedroom window – the rainwater had already been drained from the streets of Canterlot, but Twilight would have to be careful not to muddy her hooves on her way to Ponyville.
Well, regardless, she’d cross that bridge when she got there. She grabbed her saddlebags and The Elements of Harmony, and went to the door.
“Will you be gone long?” Spike called out to her.
“I’ll just be down at the park,” she responded. “Might be all day. Are you going to be okay by yourself?”
“Uh, yeah! Totally! I’ll be fine!” Spike sounded like he was trying to get her out of the dorm room in a hurry. “See you later!”
It’s probably nothing. She waved Spike goodbye and shut the door behind her.
It was a lovely day out that day. The streets were somewhat busy, with ponies all leaving the city for Ponyville. She was surprised not to see more of them heading there – but then, perhaps they were disappointed it would not be in Canterlot.
Oh well, she thought. Can’t have them all. She still remembered the Summer Sun Celebration five years ago – a very low attendance from the Canterlot élite, simply because it was held in Appaloosa.
“Hey Twilight!”
Twilight looked up to see Sea Swirl waving at her. “Hey!” she called back. “Thought you’d be at the beach right now.”
“That can wait,” she replied “I wouldn’t miss the thousandth Summer Sun Celebration for the world! You comin’ or what?”
“I’ll be there eventually.” Twilight tapped her saddlebags. “I’m just going down to the park for now.”
“Don’t take too long – their town hall fills up fast!” And with that, Sea Swirl disappeared down the road.
As Twilight was turning her head back forward, she thought she caught a glimpse of a certain green and violet dragon skulking down the streets. It was gone before she could get a better look. I might have to have a talk with him when I get back to the dorm, she thought. What is he up to right now? Is he still focused on Moondancer’s party? He should know perfectly well we don’t have time for that sort of thing.
When she got to Mustang Park, she noticed how empty and quiet it was. She only heard a few birds chirping overhead in a clear blue sky. Even though she knew perfectly well how Cloudsdale’s rainstorms worked, she couldn’t help but marvel even now at how cleanly they worked – it was always a night-and-day difference, as a rule. I wonder why Cloudsdale rarely ever holds a Summer Sun Celebration.
She looked to her left, and saw the park fountain running – the same fountain that had been there for all her life, all her parents’ lives – centuries, really. It was adorned atop with an armillary sphere, showing the sun and the moon hovering and moving above the surface of Equestria. Twilight wondered what it was like to manipulate them, literally day in and day out. But then, she realized, those are heavy and important tasks. Plus, I’d have much greater responsibilities than just those.
From her right, she heard some prominent clip-clopping of horseshoes on cobblestone, and wood being dragged. She turned to see a groundskeeper, dragging along a wooden bin with several gardening tools in it. “Mornin’, Miss Sparkle,” he greeted through clenched teeth. “Heading down to Ponyville soon?”
“Yeah,” she answered. “I’ve got a bit of light reading to do first.”
The groundskeeper chuckled. “Gardens close at sunset,” he told her. “Be out before then.”
She found a nice, shady spot by the pond, laid down with the book in front of her, and opened it up. She distinctly remembered the poëm from the day before, so when she flipped back to page 313 and read it again, she finally understood its meaning:
A flurry of stars, assembling here For when the daily night draws near: Eleven girls, each one a peer To one another, soon appear. One brave, adventurous with cheer, One boasting bright, one often blear, One swift, one prim, one without fear, One with her pets, one’s beat they hear, One well-read, one not so austere, And one composing song in drear.
As she read, the memories of her exploits with Milky Way and the other Galaxy Girls came flooding back vividly – flaring a brightly-burning star with the Sun, digging up a satellite using poëtry with the Moon, seeing Mercury run rapid orbits around the star, watching Venus put on a dance, exploring Mars’s oh-so-bizarre art gallery, nearly becoming another of Jupiter’s pets, mixing up a storm with Saturn, reading – and then searching – all those books with Uranus (which may have been her favorite part), surfing the Kuiper Sea with Neptune, and quite literally rocking out with Pluto. Not to mention, of course, stopping Black Hole dead in his tracks before he could destroy the universe – and her with it. All told, good times all around.
She blinked. When she looked at the page again, two more lines had suddenly appeared at the end:
Know all them well, and keep them dear, Lest these eleven disappear.
“Thank you, Milky Way,” she murmured. “Thank you for showing me an adventure through a vast and awesome universe – with your newfound friends, as well. And thank you especially, Moon, for ultimately sending me back once we were done.” She sighed. “For as long as I may live, I’ll try not to forget any of you, or what you all have done for me.” She smiled softly, fondly, wistfully even – then turned back to the book’s table of contents.
She saw a few entries with “Star Swirl the Bearded” in the title, but despite looking up to him, she felt no gravitational pull to them.
“‘Romance of the Six Friends’?” she pondered aloud. “What’s this about?” This one was placed at the very end of the list, so out of curiosity, she turned to page 926 – and saw that one of them was an alicorn, definitely not Celestia. Though that dragon certainly looks an awful lot like Spike. . . . She shook her head, and went back to the table of contents.
“Hmm. . . how about ‘The Elements of Harmony’?” The book’s title work, evidently – and this was on something she’d faintly heard of before, but couldn’t put her hoof on exactly where. She flipped to page 101 – and saw it was much longer than Milky Way’s entry, with full-color illustrations to boot. Must be pretty important to get this kind of treatment, she thought. She started reading.
Once upon a time, the story opened, in the magical land of Equestria. . . .
