> What May Come > by lilAngel > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Stepping on butterflies four hundred years ago can be unexpectedly difficult > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Four hooves touched down on the cobbles with a faint click, and a pony looked around him with some signs of confusion. His head turned slowly and deliberately, devoting equal attention to everything in sight. Which, right now, wasn’t a whole lot. Just bare cobbles, picturesque but boring back walls, and a sky that was studded with just enough rainclouds to allow the crops to grow. The new arrivals eyes didn’t move as he turned his head, but his mouth was constantly moving as he uttered a string of minor curses just too quietly for anypony else to hear. “Just a couple of days,” one angry murmur was a little more coherent than the rest. “Of course it’ll be easy. Didn’t think to mention the size of the bible.” That said, he decided it would probably be more practical to stop talking to himself. His frustrated ramblings continued only inside his head as he cantered over to the edge of the square. The clop of hooves on stone sent vibrations through his body which seemed more than a little unpleasant, though he was sure he’d get used to the sensation and not even notice it if he had a little time to adapt. For now, he unfurled his wings and gave a gentle flap so that he could float just a few inches from the surface. At the edge of the square, he found that it was actually a rooftop, and looking over the railing he could see many larger squares below. It seemed this ‘Canterlot’ was the kind of city that didn’t take the idea of ground level very seriously, and its buildings gave the impression that the architect had more experience in confectionary than in engineering. It was certainly a complex city, and a busy one too. From his vantage point, the stranger could see hundreds of pastel-coloured horses going about their own business with little regard for him. He also saw that those with wings (who seemed to be in a minority) were accustomed to flying above the heads of their earthbound brethren. That would make things easier; there was no sign here of the racial strictures that made life so hard in the Minoan Angelic civilisation, and apparently no worries about whatever anatomical details a passer-by might see when a mostly naked pony passed overhead. His horn illuminated momentarily as he conjured up a necktie, which seemed to fit in with the current standards of dress. It would probably have been easier to sort out his appearance before actually coming here, but he’d been in something of a rush. He was only doing this job as a favour to one of his brother’s friends, and had quickly realised that the civilisation’s background was probably complex enough that reading everything he needed would take longer than making the changes. For today, he was going to wing it. And as his mind followed that thought to its logical conclusion, he cursed again. Or failed to, because the rather intense word he’d intended to use apparently didn’t exist in this place’s language; or indeed in any language to be found in this world. He cursed again, but it didn’t make him feel much better. “What’s wrong?” a voice from behind made him turn around sharply. He’d thought he was paying attention, but apparently he’d been more than a little careless when it came to assembling a mortal body for himself, and his spirit-sense was much weaker than he’d assumed. He was practically blind, only able to notice other living creatures if they made a sound or were in front of him. The pony who’d spoken was a young mare with a rich red coat, maybe the colour of polished mahogany. She seemed concerned, and just a little surprised by the stranger’s appearance, though he wasn’t entirely sure yet why that should be. “I’m sorry,” he gave her his most disarming smile, “I didn’t see you there. Should something be wrong? I mean…” “Don’t worry, dear,” the red pony forced a smile. “You looked sad, and I don’t like to see another pony sad. A problem shared is a problem halved, is what I always say. So, what’s bothering you? If I can’t help, I can at least listen.” “That’s remarkably…” the stranger thought for a second, trying to find the right word. It seemed that this world had a somewhat limited vocabulary on some subjects, and he wanted to be sure he got the right one. “… friendly, I suppose. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Amber.” “And– Hey, you know my name?” “I must have heard it somewhere,” he answered. A shrug, and she accepted it. “And you have a great insight. Because yes, I have something of a problem. I promised a friend of a friend that I would help her look after a… a pet project for her while she was away at mortal camp, but now I’m here I can’t remember what I was actually supposed to be doing. I could go and look it up, but there’s a lot of information to take in, and somehow I don’t seem able to know all the details automatically.” “Automatically? Is that an alicorn thing?” The stranger took a fraction of a second to understand the meaning of the word, and then realised why this mare had been staring at him so strangely. He’d known before coming that some ponies had horns, and some had wings, so it had seemed only logical to give himself both. A compromise that meant he would have whatever physical features he would need in any given circumstances. But he hadn’t checked the cultural history to see how this would influence other ponies’ opinions of him. Now he thought about it, he realised that in this version of continuity there were only two alicorns in the whole world. An unfamiliar one showing up unexpectedly would certainly be a shock. “It’s a special talent,” he bluffed, and was just a little surprised when Flying Amber accepted this without question. “When I interact with someone, I know everything relevant that there is to know. Likes and dislikes, forms of address, language, culture, destiny, those kinds of things. But it seems that here, I can’t use that to find out about the fate of the world. I think it’s because she’s installed a pliable continuity, so she can change the destined future whenever she thinks of something new to add. There’s a limited number of retcons you can apply to a history before it really starts to interfere with omnicognizance.” “Right,” she nodded slowly. “That’s not something for common folks to understand, I guess. But if you’re troubled by not knowing everything, you could start with the things that matter. You’re looking after your friend’s pet, right? So, do you know if it needs food, or exercise, or just some love?” “I… She said they… it isn’t so cheerful, and she doesn’t know how to fix it.” “Maybe it just needs some playtime. And make sure it’s not looking at the moon, that would bring anypony down.” He stopped and thought, and tried to remember. Then he looked at the ponies in the street below, wandering in almost all directions as they went about their own business. She was right, he knew. They were all mission out one direction when they looked around for their friends, or glanced about them for any reason. Almost without thinking, everypony in this town was avoiding looking to the East, where the moon was just above the horizon. They were afraid of the moon, or afraid of what it represented. He’d never seen anything like it before, on any world, and that immediately got his attention. “Yes, I’d better fix that,” he nodded, deep in thought. The moon was clearly wrong for this world. Instead of a plain white orb or a random terrain of craters, there was a clear image visible in the shadows on its surface. That wasn’t entirely unique, in a lot of fantastic worlds chance or design had contrived to make the shape of a face, or a rabbit, or a duck on the surface of a celestial body. But this wasn’t just chance, it was an image out of nightmares. A reminder of just how close the world had come to being the domain of a psychotic tyrant now imprisoned there. On the lunar surface they could clearly see a scowling face, or a grimacing skull if looked at in the right way. It was only natural that the ponies didn’t like that reminder. “The Princesses manage the moon, right?” “How can you not know…” Flying Amber started, but the mysterious alicorn was already long gone. In fact, he’d never even been there. * * * “You will never rule here!” the haughty voice of an alicorn roared over the Canterlot rooftops, pride and anger raising the volume to a level mere decibels couldn’t hope to match. But there was no audience to witness the tirade, the population of Canterlot was already in hiding. “You think you can stop me?” another voice answered, rich with laughter and hatred. “Mere ponies, against all the magic we command?” There was a sickening thud, the crack of fracturing bones, and a black pony sailed across the sky. Her wings were twisted around at an angle that couldn’t be natural, and she tumbled into a wall at speeds that were bound to cause more damage. “How dare you!” another voice called. A second alicorn, this one so pale that she practically glowed, was silhouetted against the skyline. “You hurt my sister, and I could never forgive that.” “Princess Celestia?” an additional voice cut over the exchange of insults. Two heads turned towards the newcomer. He was a mere unicorn this time, having sacrificed his wings because they raised too many questions. He was still wearing the necktie, and had found time for enough practice to let him move like a real pony. His voice was also more cultured, and his confidence somehow rendered the screams of the monster inaudible even when the newcomer spoke at a normal voice. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but I was wondering if you could help me. I’m not quite sure how this world’s history works, so I thought you could give me some pointers.” The tyrannical overlord of all Equestria wasn’t used to being interrupted, and certainly not ignored. With the next growl, a bolt of unimaginable power leapt out towards the newcomer. Roof tiles were converted to molten slag, and the building beneath was reduced to a crater nearly a furlong across. Even stone melted with the sheer amount of magical power Tirek could bring to bear. It took three seconds for Celestia’s vision to clear so that she could see again; time she took advantage of to duck behind an apple cart that had somehow survived the devastation. Every moment she could survive gave a little more chance of finding a way to defeat this threat. She looked at the newest crater in the middle of her city, where the gravel and cobbles had turned into a kind of glass that made a plink, plink sound not unlike a xylophone as it cooled. And where a unicorn with a slightly singed necktie was looking back with every sign of annoyance. “Is he always like this?” he asked, giving a half shrug in the direction of the monster. “How are you even alive?” Celestia got straight to the important questions. “And who are you?” “Ah, the tricky questions. As far as my vital status, I’d say that I’m probably not, at least by your standards. There’s no place for me in this universe, I don’t exist here, so this body is just a placeholder. A horse-shaped marker, to indicate the place where I might be if I existed. And for names… You know, I think my name might actually be untranslatable. You can call me Rigel if you really want to.” “What’s a Rigel?” Celestia started, and then thought better of it. She was dimly aware that some other races had names that were unrelated to any words in their language, and she could live with that assumption until she’d asked the questions that mattered. “No, forget that. Pleased to meet you, Rigel. Now, if you’re as smart as you are resilient, perhaps you could assist me. I’ve got a spell which should be able to seal that monster in the moon, but some of the details don’t seem to make sense. It talks about a personal attachment, you see, and I have no idea–” Another roar from Tirek. If there was anything that annoyed him more than feeling ignored, it was feeling powerless. And failing to smite a mere unicorn made him more angry than anything else that had happened in the course of this war. He had everything, all the power of the ponies except for two alicorns. Nopony else should have power enough to cast a simple magic, and certainly not enough power to oppose him. He let out a bellow of rage that got louder every second, and built up the well of magic between his horns until it was as hot as the surface of the sun. That pony wouldn’t survive again. “Do you mind?” Rigel turned to glare at the centaur. “We are trying to have a conversation. She’ll deal with you later.” Then he turned back to Celestia, giving a little shrug. “I’m sorry, sometimes they seem incapable of taking a hint. You were saying?” Celestia just stared. At the space where, a moment before, Tirek had been. He hadn’t vanished, he simply wasn’t there anymore. And as the state of the city clearly showed, he had never been there. “What did you do?” she asked. She wasn’t used to being so confused; as a living goddess to her subjects, she had almost a whole lifetime’s experience of knowing what was going on before anypony else, and something like this didn’t fit in with any kind of magic she was aware of. “He was in the way. I need to talk to you. You were going to seal him in the moon, but then he’d just end up staring down on your civilisation, causing low level depression among everypony who lives here. I’ve just come from four hundred years in your future, and your entire populace is afraid. You need to not send this jerk to the moon.” “The future? You’ve used Stars–” “I can’t talk about my methods. You don’t need to know the details, and the less you know the better. But a good friend asked me to help set this world back on the right track. So I’m going to tell you: don’t put Tirek in the moon.” “Fine. Where did you put him?” “I sent him to…” and then Rigel paused to think. “Your culture doesn’t have a word for Hell? Or even the concept of it?” “What’s a…” “Okay, this world is weird. It’s like you don’t even have any recognition of death. No wonder I’m having so much trouble understanding the place, I’ve never seen a world without actual death before. Anyway, I’ve made this place to keep him for now. Call it Tartarus, kind of like another world where you can keep enemies who are too much trouble to let them wander around the place. He’ll break out in about a thousand years.” “A thousand years? By then, surely, we could improve this prison you have created?” “Maybe. It could use some guards, at any rate. How do you normally go about guarding things?” “I hear dogs are pretty good as guards, but–” “I’ll set up a guard dog, then. Should heep him sealed for a thousand years.” “Why a–” “Don’t ask. There’s things that need to happen, and nothing to be gained by fighting them. And on that note…” The stranger darted into an alleyway. A few minutes later, he emerged holding a cloth-wrapped bundle out in front of him. “What’s this?” Celestia took the strange object, and carefully started to unwrap it. “An egg? But what would–” “Don’t think about it too much. It’s a present for your student, to teach her the value of friendship. It doesn’t matter until you’ve got a student to give it to, you’ll know when it’s time. Actually… Now I think about it, maybe there’s one student who shouldn’t have this. But I can create a distraction. I’ve left a magic mirror in your castle. Don’t do anything with it until your student finds out what it’s for. Actually, don’t do anything with it until the other student works it out. Does that make sense? I mean… Oh, I’m sure you’ll get it.” “I’m not sure I understand anything you’re saying. What is this ‘Tartarus’ place?” “It’s like a little pocket universe, full of sealed evil in a can. Think of it as somewhere you can banish your enemies to and not have them come back for about a thousand years. And by then, somepony will have gone through a whole set of trials to be ready to defeat them.” “I don’t like to place the burden on my future subjects. How can we be sure that somneone will have the talents they need?” “That’s why you’re going to start taking students. Within a thousand years, you will have a lot of time to get used to teaching. And I promise you, someday a filly will come along who has all the talents you need. Then you’ll be able to give her that egg, and the Elements, and everything will play out perfectly.” “I’m glad you’re so confident,” the Princess mumbled, her voice showing that she didn’t feel anything like the same optimism. But she told herself that here was a unicorn who’d managed to banish Tirek without a thought was certainly worth listening to. “Don’t worry,” he mumbled quietly. “This is a pretty complex situation, but after you’ve been dealing with humans for a couple of eternities, every other race is easy.” “What’s a –” “Don’t worry about it. You don’t have them here. We’ve just got to set these ponies on the right path.” Then he looked up at the moon, a bare and featureless orb in the night sky. “You know, I think the ponies might need something to scare them. A terror in the moon. It looks so bland like that, it’s not exactly inspirational.” “I worked hard on that,” another pony growled from behind him. Her coat wasn’t quite black, but it was dark as midnight and she had the same haughty gaze as her sister as she hobbled closer. “Please, stranger, do not criticise the moon until thou know the effort that goes into its maintenance.” “Oh, it’s a very nice moon, I’ll grant you. But with Tirek imprisoned there, it would have been a constant reminder of the evil in the world. A threat, and a challenge, so that the ponies need to build up courage to challenge it. Tirek didn’t do that because he was terrifying, he was too strong. He was a threat of an evil that was going to return, not a reminder of an evil vanquished. And the destruction he caused left scars in the collective unconscious, so everypony was still waiting for him to return and finish the job. No, we need a different kind of monster imprisoned there. Someone who can be destined for redemption if the mood gets too dark.” “Who wouldst thou suggest?” Princess Luna snapped sarcastically. “Enemies don’t exactly grow on trees. Tirek is the only true threat to peace. And I would rather the moon be a symbol of my love for my citizens, just as the sun shows my sister’s feelings for them. It should never be a threat.” “Oh, yes,” Rigel nodded again, “I’m sure it’s a very good moon. Good enough for the night, anyhow, where the ponies won’t be paying as much attention.” Luna drew in a sharp breath and it took all of her self control to keep her from pounding the insolent interloper. Celestia seemed to realise how much a careless word could make the other alicorn feel, so she tried to change the subject without making it too obvious. “In any case, we have ancient texts that speak of binding an enemy in the moon, but we don’t actually know how this should be done.” “Oh, I see. You don’t have the Elements?” “The Elements?” “Yes, the– Oh. Of course, you only find the Elements when you need to use them. But they will need an upgrade before they can face Tirek, so you wouldn’t have thought of using them. I get the impression that your library will only show you the things that your destiny needs you to learn, so that would make sense.” “What are these ‘Elements’ thou speakst of?” Luna’s ire was replaced by curiosity, but Rigel knew she was still dwelling on his careless words. A feeling of inferiority could build up unseen for years before it turned into an outburst, and it seemed the egos of ponies could be just as fragile as those of bears. He wouldn’t be surprised if the first thought on Luna’s mind now was of discovering a more powerful magic so that she could make her role relevant again. “The Elements of Harmony. They are to be found in the Everfree Forest. I think a factorial growth would be most efficient, such that their power increases with each generation. Their first bearer would be able to symbolise Harmony merely by representing all ponies. The second time, the greater power would take two minds to master, like yourselves representing light and dark. But they continue growing, so after you lose them it will be necessary for the next generation to recruit six bearers to represent the active and passive aspects of each of the three races, and their successors a group of twenty-four in the divisions of a full spectrum.” “You say we need to find these Elements, and then we’ll find an enemy worthy of using them on?” “Someone who can only be punished using the power of the moon? It would be a great challenge then to ensure that they remained trapped, protecting every pony of Equestria.” “Something like that. I’ll go make sure they’re ready, and see if I can find you a small threat to go with them. I’m not sure either of you will have the power of lunar banishment initially, you might have to turn the first one to stone. But the next time, the Elements should have matured enough to do that job.” He turned and trotted away, his horn flickering with the faintest glow of magic as wings appeared on his shoulders again. “How did he do that?” Celestia muttered archly. “Isn’t that one of the fundamental laws of magic, that unicorn magic cannot replicate the abilities of a pegasus, or the strength of an earth pony?” “I thought it was,” Luna answered. “Then he knows things we don’t, and we should find these Elements he was talking about.” * * * “Discontinuum,” Rigel cursed as he soared away, resorting to colourful terms from his own people in the lack of any decent obscenities in the languages of Equestria. He blinked again, and allowed the wings to change from pegasus to butterfly. That, hopefully, would be enough to keep him getting into trouble for violating the laws of this universe. Even accidentally, using powers that were forbidden would have a detrimental effect on his surroundings. And then, just in case, he willed the same spell to appear in the pages of an otherwise unremarkable spellbook, in an otherwise uninteresting library at the centre of the forest he was now flying over. If it was in the world, it couldn’t be against the rules. Then he looked around for an enemy the sisters could defeat, so that they would be experienced by the time they came to a real battle. He thought, again, that this universe’s creator had done a perfectly good job of creating heroes, but hadn’t put nearly enough thought into the villains. Tirek was destined to be banished, and then to be defeated in a thousand years. But she had barely given the champions enough power to banish him after a war of decades, she hadn’t considered the evil that would seep back into the world while he was trapped, and she hadn’t made any weaker nemesises to work up to that climactic battle. There was one he could think of. A half finished idea that had never been a part of reality. But he was too powerful,and could maybe be a threat. There was another, but too strange, too nebulous. A demon that negated all magic would normally be able to endanger a civilisation for a short time only, but in this world it would be a serious problem; no wonder it had been sealed away in an offshoot world outside of reality, with all the other prototypes. And then Rigel knew what he had to do. Four grey hooves touched down in a place that was no place, a shifting vortex of dimensions that no living creature could survive entering. But concepts such as survival were twisted here, even more than they were back in Equestria. This place was a mess of impossible concepts, a dumping ground for ideas that had no place in destiny. Rigel looked around, and saw a million impossible things. With a wicked grin, he flexed his magic and pulled them all together. Then he crushed them together more tightly, forcing a million half-formed demons to become a single entity with all of their shared characteristics. The amalgam of miscellany would be too unfocused to present a real threat to the world, but also too unpredictable to ever be taken for granted. Perfect for giving a potential hero the opportunity to level up. The only question would be whether the laws of this universe would allow such a chaotic entity to become sentient. “Well of course, dear boy,” the apparition grinned at him, peering over the top of a pair of unexpected half-moon spectacles. “Chaos is a beautiful thing, a form of art. But without a mind, I would be as threatening or as funny as a roll of the dice. It has to be targeted randomness to have any value.” “I hoped so. In some worlds, you could do that and just end up with the dice roll. No drama, and no wit. But I would appreciate it if you would leave the celestial bodies out of your jokes.” Rigel shook his head in disappointment, like the mismatched apparition before him was just some petulant child, and snatched the spectacles off the thing’s snout. He quickly joined the half-moons back together and restored it to the sky, albeit with a slight wobble that he thought might add a little individuality to its orbit. “I say, old man, that’s no fun.” “I’m not here to have fun. I’m adding ingredients to this recipe, trying to fine-tune it very carefully so that someone I care about will like what comes out at the end. I think you are the step that involves feeding the recipe book through a blender, but there’s a chance that emergent order out of chaos might lead to the results I was hoping for. Would you be willing to play along with my scheme?” “I see you setting up dominoes, to fall in careful sequence. And I think that by creating someone like me, you must be intending to knock me down at some point. So why shouldn’t I just ignore your requests and set out to remake this world in my own image?” “Because you’re not pure chaos, as much as you might like to see yourself as such. There are a hundred million sounds that make up your cacophonous nature, but hidden in there are just a couple of notes that crave to resonate with the music of the spheres. And when–” Rigel stopped, and raised an eyebrow. The monster tried to hide the visual aid he’d just produced, looking about as sheepish as it was possible to be without turning himself into a sheep. “Put it back.” “You said spheres! You must have expected me to… Okay, fine. But just because I want to hear what you’re saying.” “A couple of notes that want to join in the symphony. To resonate, and to find harmony. You crave attention, and you need to be noticed, like a child. So you won’t hide away from the world, and you won’t keep to yourself. And you won’t just destroy everything, or install yourself as emperor without providing some mechanism for your defeat, because that wouldn’t be entertaining.” “I can do whatever I like. That’s what chaos means, you know. Whatever I think might be fun at any given moment, I have the power to make it happen.” “Oh, yes. I wouldn’t dream of imposing restrictions on your abilities, because a diluted chaos leads to boredom. I just ensured that the things you find fun are all challenges that will lead to the destined champions fulfilling their purpose. Every time you touch the Elements of Harmony, your hidden desire to resonate will make them as strong as they need to be. Deviating from my plan would be boring for you, I made sure of that. And eventually, you will find that you want to understand friendship. It’s practically a primal force in this universe, it drives everything. And a being with your curiosity won’t be able to resist it forever.” “So why are you telling me this?” “Because it’s easier that way. And because I wanted somepony to talk to. I felt you’re the only being in this world who might be able to see things on the same scale, even coming from opposite perspectives.” “You know that once you’ve shown me a plan, by my nature I will have to try to tear it down.” “I know. Just like you know that if you were going to succeed in breaking the world, I would have made you differently to rule out that possibility. I’ve already planted the seeds for your defeat, but it won’t be permanent, and you will at least be able to appreciate the irony. So, please, could you take a trip to the Everfree Forest? There are a couple of princesses there waiting to encounter an enemy against whom they can hone their skills.” “A seed of defeat?” the monster pondered. “Then I shall take care not to water it. And I do believe you’ve given me the seed of an idea, of how I could deal with my impending loss. You wouldn’t expect me to proceed without a plan, would you?” He vanished in an instant, and arrived two centuries before. With a few years to train his powers, he was sare, he could find some way to survive his inevitable defeat. Or at least get back at the alicorns who were going to have defeated him. A little sting in the tail, maybe, something that would grow stronger underground, and come back to bite them when they were least expecting it. And then he would be ready for them before they even went looking for the Elements of Harmony. Alone in the universe of chaos now, Rigel smiled. He wasn’t sure, and that was a new sensation for one of his kind, but he felt he had set all the right wheels in motion. For a godlike being turned to stone half a century earlier, for the princesses being prepared to use the Elements, even against each other, and for all the exciting stories that would be told a thousand years from now. Sometimes, a little chaos was exactly what you needed to set a plan back on track.