Hard Reset
by Eakin
Chapters
If at First You Don't Succeed...
...Die, Die Again
You Didn't Really Think It Would Be That Easy, Did You?
Perfect Run
Closure
Alternate Ending
If at First You Don't Succeed...
If At First You Don’t Succeed...
Here’s the thing about pain.
Pain hurts.
Pain hurts a lot.
Most ponies don’t understand that I deal with this kind of thing
frequently in my line of work. “Oh, Twilight Sparkle lives in a library
and spends all her time with a nose in a book,” they probably say.
“She’s a spoiled rotten little Princess’ pet.” they probably say. “She
couldn’t possibly know what pain is. Now like us, we like to run into
things and smash our faces into walls. What could hurt more than that?”
Well guess what? Unless those ponies have channeled the raw energies
of creation through their forehead, and had it blow up in their face?
They don’t know what the buck they’re talking about.
I groan. It’s the only appropriate reaction to the army of
overweight earth ponies that have apparently decided to tap dance
(poorly) around the inside of my skull.
“Well that didn’t work,” says Spike. My friend. My number one
assistant. And right at this moment my tormentor. All I can do is groan
again in response.
I planned all of this out so carefully. I double checked all my calculations, then I triple checked my double checking.
The day started out so well, too. Back in Canterlot again, after how
many years? Too many. Well, three years. Three too many, even if I’ve
spent them in Ponyville making the greatest friends I could ever hope to
know.
But on the other hoof, how many of these books could I have read in
three years? At least a couple thousand, easily. That’s why I’m glad to
be back, here in the Canterlot Library, suddenly finding myself with
unfettered access to every single dusty old tome of ancient wisdom in
the archives and restricted sections by royal decree. It’s only for a
few days, but a part of me wishes it could be longer. There’s just so
much new magic to try out here, and I want to test every single bit of
it.
Come on, don’t tell me that if you had access to a spell that
claimed to let you manipulate the flow of space and time, you wouldn’t
try to cast it.
“I am never casting another spell that claims it will let me
manipulate the flow of space and time.” I say, definitively as I can
manage through the mana hangover. Because seriously. Ow.
“Did it at least do anything before it exploded in your face? Or
between when it exploded in your face and when it exploded in your face
again?” Spike asks. He seems earnest. I’m never completely sure when
he’s being sarcastic. A spell can’t explode in the caster’s face twice,
obviously. Although if it could it would probably feel a whole lot like
this.
“It didn’t. I don’t think so, Spike. I don’t understand, Starswirl
the Bearded was supposed to have personally crafted this spell for
viewing alternate timelines but it doesn’t seem to have actually done
anything,” I say. There’s no chance I got any detail of the spell wrong.
That probably sounds a little arrogant. But I checked and double
checked and even quadruple checked every element of this spell. From the
circle of chalk that I drew around me, now faded and broken, to the
finest detail of each rune I inscribed inside it, now wiped away by the
torrent of arcane energy that I pointed, channeled, and directed through
it.
Fine. It was an experimental spell. Hardly more than a working
theory than anything even with all of the notes Starswirl left
pertaining to it. You have to expect this sort of setback when you’re
dealing with theoretical spellcraft, right? I just need to redouble my
efforts, study even harder, forsake all material desires and comforts
until I master-”
“Uh, Twilight? I think it’s about time for us to grab lunch, don’t
you?” suggests Spike. Silly dragon. Just because it’s... wow, 3:00 PM?
Already? My treasonous stomach is rumbling, to an extent that I can no
longer ignore. You win this round, biological necessities.
Spike and I leave the castle and go wandering through Canterlot.
It’s an endlessly fascinating city, full of museums, history, and
stories of the past.
It’s also full of other ponies. A long time ago I wouldn’t have even
considered them worthy of my attention. Now, thanks to my advanced
friendship training, I can confirm that there is, in fact, a world
outside of my own head. Most importantly at the moment, a few of those
ponies can make an excellent rosepetal and daffodil salad with hay
fries. There are maybe three establishments that know how I like it
made, all conveniently within a half-mile radius of Canterlot Castle.
What are the odds?
The odds are, in fact, 7.3 to 1 when you take into account Canterlot
zoning ordinances and the economics of the surrounding neighborhoods.
Don’t ask me whether I’ve done the math. I always do the math.
We’re in no real rush, so after a long meandering stroll we get our
food from the furthest of the three, The Grassy Knoll, and sit down at a
table out on the sidewalk. It’s a nice day, the salad is delicious, and
there’s a cool breeze blowing through my mane. The grumpy mood I hadn’t
even realized I was in is lifting. I glance over at Spike, munching
away on a sapphire across from me. I’m reminded, yet again, that he
knows me better than I know myself.
I lean over and give Spike a quick peck on the cheek. He coughs on a
shard of gemstone and squirms. “Cut it out, Twilight. What was that
for?” he asks. He’s so cute when he gets all embarrassed, it’s almost
too easy.
“Just because. Thanks for all your help at the library today. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Now he’s blushing and mumbling something under his breath about
mushy, sappy unicorns. I just chuckle and go back to eating my salad,
watching the ponies around me going about their day to day business.
Most of them are students or professors from one of the nearby
universities, if I don’t miss my guess. They’re all wrapped up in their
own thoughts and conversations, and there are plenty of near-collisions
where neither party notices they’re on course to walk into one another
until it’s almost too late. Not that I’m one to talk. I once walked into
an open pit, complete with flashing lights and warning signs, just
because I had my nose buried in a book.
In my defense, it was a really good account about the finer points of fungal reproduction.
Sure, today started out a little rough, but now that I’ve got a full
stomach and a little bit of perspective it’s looking up again. My
friends are probably on the train from Ponyville right now, and they’ll
be here in a couple hours. I’m not sure Mom and Dad are looking forward
to having all five of them stay over for the night, but they say they’ve
been wanting to spend some time getting to know them for a while so I’m
sure everything will work out. Plus, Shining and Cadence said we could
use their apartment while they were out of town so there’s extra space
if we need it.
I tell myself to stop looking for problems to solve. Stop worrying
all the time. I’m in the greatest city in Equestria on a gorgeous autumn
afternoon with the whole rest of the day wide open to enjoy. It’s going
to be great.
“Hey, Twilight? Do you hear that?” asks Spike.
I listen. Dragon ears are pretty sensitive. I don’t hear any...
wait, yes I do. There’s a noise, an undertone, distinct from the regular
sounds of ponies bustling about the city. A raspy, humming sound
carried along on the crisp afternoon breeze.
“It sounds like something’s buzzing. What is that?” I ask. Looking
up, I can see dark shapes moving in the sky between the rooftops. From
down here they look like pegasi but the silhouettes aren’t quite right.
They’re a little too angular to be ponies, and I can’t make out any
wings. The way they’re moving is subtly off, too. They aren’t moving
like ponies. I get the impression of an insect, no, a swarm of insects,
though I couldn’t say why that particular word comes to mind.
Somepony a few tables over screams at the top of her lungs. The ice
tea her waiter was bringing over a moment ago clatters to the ground.
The waiter himself is halfway through a transformation, still partially
enveloped in the glowing green field of magic passing through him. When
the wave passes, what remains isn’t a pony at all, but a twisted mockery
of one.
“Changeling!” Screams somepony at the top of her lungs. It takes a moment to register that it’s me.
The monster hisses and before the mare’s scream has faded from my
ears it bursts into action, catapulting itself towards her. She can’t
even react before it slams into her and she falls over, upending the
table she’s seated at as the changeling wraps its fanged jaws around her
neck. The table topples over and blessedly obstructs my view of what
comes next, but the way her scream degrades into a sick gurgling sound
before it’s suddenly cut off for good leaves little to the imagination.
Her scream is replaced by others up and down the street as the swarm
descends. This is impossible. There are least eight reasons why this
should be impossible. First off-
“Twilight, We have to get out of here.” says Spike, derailing my
train of thought. I nod and we turn to run. By unspoken agreement, we
head in the direction of the palace. If there’s one place in the city
that will be well protected, that’s it. We gallop as fast as our legs
will carry us, and I try not hear the cries of desperation from the
ponies around us as changelings fall upon them. A loose cobblestone
flies over my head, only inches from my horn. I didn’t see who threw it
but it strikes the front window of a boutique on the corner, which
shatters and sends jagged glass flying everywhere. I don’t think I’m
cut, but I don’t think I would notice if I was, either.
We’re still a quarter mile from the castle gates when a half dozen
changelings drop out of the sky and into our path, barring our way. They
advance on the two of us cautiously, rather than trying to overwhelm us
by rushing in. Did they remember us from last time?
Spike and I turn to retreat the way we had come, but there were more
changelings back that way. Some of them had finished off the ponies
they had initially attacked and they were turning their attention back
to us, moving to block that avenue of escape.
“Twi, over there,” said Spike. He nodded his head in the direction
of an alleyway wedged between a grocery store and a bowling alley. From
here I can’t see where it goes, or even if it dead ends a few yards in.
But there aren’t any changelings between us and it.
“OK, on three, we make a break for it,” I say. In the corner of my eye I see Spike shake his head.
“No. You get to the castle and I’ll keep them from following you.
Get to the Princess and... I don’t know. Magic something up. You’ll
figure it out, you always do.”
“I’m not leaving you here.”
“Hey, I’m a dragon. They aren’t going to get me without a fight. In
fact, I bet I can take the whole army by myself. You better hurry and
figure out a solution to all this before I beat them all down with one
claw tied behind my back, right?” he tries to put a brave face on it,
but he can’t hide how scared he is.
I can’t answer right away, but I don’t have the luxury of time,
either. Some of those changelings are getting pretty close. Everything
about this is wrong. But that cold, logical, detached part of my mind
tells me that he’s right. “I love you so much, Spike.” What else is
there to say?
“I love you too, Twilight. Tell the others how much I love them too,
OK? You know, in case I’m not done beating up changelings by the time
they get here,” he says. I wish I could hug him, one more time, but
those things would be on us in a moment if I did. I almost do anyway.
I bolt for the alleyway. Spike is screaming taunts at the monsters
in the street. I feel a burst of heat from behind me and the whole world
is colored green as he lets loose a burst of dragonfire. Almost there.
An unpony shriek fills the air, but cries of pain and fear are universal
and I know that the fire found its target. I can’t look back to
confirm.
I round the corner and I’m in the alleyway. It isn’t a dead end,
thank the Princesses. There’s a literal light at the end of the tunnel. I
tune out the noises coming from behind me. I can’t think about that,
not now. Have to get to the palace. Have to stop all this, somehow. Fix
it. I burst into the street ahead and find...
A dozen more changelings, all looking at me.
They don’t hesitate like the last group did. One of them pounces
before I can think of a new plan. A reflexive burst of magic knocks it
back, but the others take the opportunity to surround me. I try to watch
them all as best I can, but it’s only seconds before one tackles me to
the ground. There’s an out. There has to be. I can teleport away,
somewhere safe until I can figure out my next move.
I’m assembling the necessary components of the spell in my mind when
a jolt of pain sweeps in and obliterates everything else. One of those
things just drove their gnarled imitation of a hoof into my side and I
swear I feel three of my ribs cracking, each one a distinct concerto of
agony. Now it hurts to even breathe, and I’m worthless. It’s all I can
do to look up at the palace, so close and yet impossibly far away. I can
see the pegasi of the royal guard darting about, knocking changelings
from the sky. The swarm is too thick. They’re falling back, slowly
giving ground. I can sense that it’s only a matter of time until they
fall. Then my view is obscured as one of the changelings walks up to me,
studies me.
It changes into me, or an imitation of me at least. It’s still
studying me, trying to figure out my twitches and mannerisms when two
more changelings step into view. One of them makes a dry heaving noise,
and it takes me a few moments to realize that it’s supposed to be
laughter. I want to blow them apart, to take some of them with me, but
every single twitch I make is agony. I’m just not strong enough to fight
through it.
I never expected my life to end this way.
Any fear the changelings had of me is gone now. I can’t see the ones
biting at my flank, but I can feel their fangs tearing me away. Through
my fading vision, I can see one of them standing above me, until it
lowers its head and I feel pressure tighten around my neck. There’s more
pressure, then the worst pain I’ve ever felt, then everything is over.
------------
This isn’t fair, being dead isn’t supposed to hurt this much. My eyes are already closed, but I squeeze them shut even tighter.
It hurts as much as having that spell blow up in my face earlier this afternoon.
Actually... It hurts exactly that much, no more, no less, and in
exactly the same way. My throat and ribs feel fine, but oh Celestia my
head...
“Well that didn’t work.”
That voice, I’d know it anywhere. I thought I’d never hear it again.
I can ignore the pain for this. I snap my eyes open and sure enough
there’s my number one assistant standing there, unhurt.
“Spike!” I half say and half moan. The word sounds slurred as it
leaves my mouth. I’m pretty wobbly on my hooves, is that because of
blood loss? But it can’t stop me from lunging for him and wrapping him
in the biggest hug I can manage. It hurts but it’s worth it. “I love you
so much Spike, I’m so glad you’re OK.”
“Jeez, what did that spell do to you? I’m fine,” he says sounding
mostly surprised and annoyed. How can he be like that after what
happened?
I take a good look around. I’m in the library. The restricted
section, to be specific, exactly where I’d been a few hours ago when the
spell blew up in my face. In fact, I’m standing in the remains of the
circle I’d drawn up to cast it, still smoldering with occult power.
Did the spell work? Did it actually show me an alternate timeline
where Canterlot gets invaded by changelings? I’ve used divination spells
to try to see the future before, but I’ve never felt anything like
that. It was so real...
“Twilight? Do you think maybe you could put me down now?” asked
Spike. I comply, letting him back down onto the floor. I glance at the
clock, which reads 3 PM. None of it was real, after all. I’m OK. It’s
all going to be OK. I lower Spike to the floor and my stomach rumbles.
I’m hungry again. Spike can tell. “Want to head over to the Grassy Knoll
and grab a salad or something?” he asks.
“NO!” I shout more forcefully than I should. “I mean... let’s just
grab something quick from the kitchen. No need to walk down into town.” I
don’t want to admit the real reason I don’t want to go into town. It
sounds ridiculous, even as I play it back in my head. I should tell
somepony what I saw, probably. But not right now. Right now I don’t want
to be away from Spike for a moment longer than I have to be. I think
he’s noticed me hovering, walking a little closer to him than I usually
do, but I don’t care.
It’s only a few minutes walk to get from the library to the kitchen.
Chef Amuse Bouche greets me heartily, and asks what he can get us to
eat. I let him know that we’re only looking for a few snacks to tide us
over until dinner. He doesn’t have to trouble himself, I’m happy to make
it.
He refuses, as he always does. I usually can’t stand being fawned
over like this, treated differently just because I happen to be the
Princess’ student (Maybe I make an exception when access to rare books
is on the line. Don’t judge me). But it’s clear that the chef takes the
greatest pride in what he does, and the idea of allowing merely ‘good’
food to be made in his kitchen by anypony appalls him to his core. It
takes only seconds before two plates are ready. Emeralds embedded in a
block of quartz for Spike, and a lily-and-azalea sandwich for me. I
thank him, and even Spike looks up long enough to mutter something
vaguely resembling ‘thank you’ through a mouthful of crystals before we
move into the dining room.
The food is phenomenal, of course, and gone too quickly. There’s no
rush to get back to the library though. After what I saw earlier I find
that I just feel better about everything, like I just got a second
chance. Colors are richer, music sounds sweeter, and all is right with
the world. Spike and I sit and chat about nothing in particular for
nearly an hour, and I’m hanging on every word.
Maybe that spell was the best thing that could happen to me. I’m
like Palomino Scrooge from A Hearth’s Warming Eve Carol, given a dark
vision of a potential future so I can better appreciate what I have. I’m
so happy I don’t even care how overwrought and melodramatic that
probably sounds.
There’s a deep rumbling, and the castle shakes to its very
foundation. A plate vibrates its way off the table beside us and crashes
to the floor, breaking into a dozen pieces. A concerned murmur is
making its way through the other ponies in the room.
“Everypony, please remain calm.” the guard’s voice rings out through
the room. “The situation is under control, but we need you all to
remain here and stay away from the windows.”
The castle shakes again. Nopony believes the guard’s lie, but none
of them know what to do either. I ignore the warning and head for the
nearest window. Not knowing is worse than any horror that could be out
there. The guards shout out to me to stop but they don’t move to
restrain me.
I shouldn’t be able to recognize the dark shapes crawling along
Canterlot’s streets from this distance, but I can. Changelings. Was that
what the spell was supposed to be, a warning? Did I waste it? Could I
have stopped this?
“Twilight,” comes a voice from across the room. I spin around. It’s
exactly the voice I need to hear right now. The voice that can fix all
of this. The voice that can do anything.
Standing there in the doorway, flanked by a squad of royal guard ponies on either side, is Princess Celestia.
“Come quickly, my faithful student, there’s no time to lose. We have
to get to the Elements of Harmony if we’re going to stop this
invasion,” she says. She turns to go without waiting for a response and
begins to trot towards the center of the castle.
I spare just a moment to tell Spike to stay put before I follow her.
This is what I should have done in the first place, gone to the
Princess. Maybe she could have stopped all this before it happened.
Everything will be fine now. Except...
“Princess, how are we going to use the Elements of Harmony without
my friends? They won’t be here until later tonight, and by then it might
be too late,” I say. For a moment, the Princess seems a bit surprised. I
could have sworn I told her my friends were coming into Canterlot
tonight.
“Astute as always, my faithful student. I’ve used the Elements on my
own once before, and I’m sure with both of us here we’ll be able to
cobble something together and save Equestria,” says Celestia. I suppose
that makes sense. I can feel that the Princess is concealing something,
putting on a brave face to avoid telling me and the guards around us
that she’s just as surprised by this invasion as we are. That’s probably
it.
The sounds of battle grow louder as we get closer to the vault. I
even notice a few glimmers of magic from Celestia’s horn as we walk. She
must be reinforcing the wards around the castle, bless her.
We’re almost at the entrance the the vault when we hear a hissing
sound from the ceiling behind us. The guards spin around before I can
even register the sound in my mind, and a changeling drops from the
ceiling. It doesn’t even reach the ground before it’s obliterated by
blasts of magic from a half a dozen unicorns, leaving nothing but an
ugly scorch mark on the rug behind us.
“The changelings are getting too close, Twilight. The guards and I
will stay here and make sure you’re safe while you open the vault door. I
did show you how to open them, didn’t I?” asks Celestia. I nod. After
the last changeling invasion, Celestia showed both Luna and I how to
access the vault in case she was ever incapacitated. There’s no time to
waste. I dash ahead of my escort, and lowered my horn to meet the
locking mechanism, ready to unseal the ornate door behind which the most
powerful artifacts in Equestria are housed.
I hesitate.
Something about this isn’t right. Most of my mind is screaming at me
to open the door to our salvation, but I can’t shake the nagging idea
that none of this adds up.
“Hurry up Twilight!” calls Princess Celestia from down the hall.
She’s right, isn’t she? There isn’t time to waste with this nonsense.
Unless...
“Actually, Princess, I think you should open the door. I’ll stay
with the guards and keep an eye out for intruders,” I say. Surely, the
Princess will gallop over and open the door, and all my fears will turn
out to be a ridiculous flight of fancy.
“Twilight, I command you to open that door,” hisses Celestia. Or at least the thing that looks like Celestia.
“The real Celestia has never commanded me to do anything,” I say.
It’s a soft and simple truth. The kind that can effortlessly cut through
a thousand interwoven lies. The sort of fact that makes up the very
bedrock of my own existence and self-worth.
Not-Celestia smirks. It’s an arrogant expression that doesn’t fit
the face of the mentor I know and love. She nods to the ponies beside
her, and all but one of them transform back into their true forms. More
changelings. The one unfortunate pegasus guard who just thought he was
protecting his regent is overwhelmed before he even knows what’s
happening. All I can offer him is a quick prayer that his demise is
relatively painless as I look away. “You really are a clever one, aren’t
you, Twilight Sparkle?” asks Not-Celestia, “a pity. I could have saved a
few hours if you’d opened this door for me. I’ve left plenty of other
ponies alive for future snacking. You, I think, are too dangerous to
join them. You seem annoyingly adept at seeing through my veils.”
“Queen Chrysalis, we meet again,” I say. Really? That’s the best
line I can come up with? I chide myself and promise to do better next
time. As if there’s going to be a next time. I was even given a warning
that this was about to happen and I wasted it, couldn’t recognize it for
what it was. I stopped Chrysalis from using me to open the door to the
Elements of Harmony, but in the end I failed again.
“For the last time, yes. Lucky for you I’m too busy to stretch this
out.” says Chrysalis. She nods to her honor guard and they charge. I’m
pinned to a wall before I know it. By some unspoken signal the
changelings stop. Maybe they can communicate on a frequency ponies can’t
hear? Could be a useful avenue for future research, not that I’m likely
to get a chance to pursue it. Chrysalis steps into the center of my
vision, and the world is tinged green as she wraps a field of magic
around my head.
“Goodbye, Twilight Sparkle,” she says. There’s a wrenching sensation
as my head twists of somepony else’s accord, and the last thing I feel
is the blood vessels inside my neck snapping and bursting before
absolute darkness falls.
------
“Well that didn’t work”
The library. Again.
I suddenly get the feeling that my day is going to get a lot worse before it gets any better.
I grab Spike in a magic field and yank him off of his seat and out
the door, nearly bowling over an unfortunate librarian in the process. I
don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know if the Changelings are going
to come again. I don’t know who to trust if they do. But right now I
have to get out of there.
I know it’s the cowardly choice. So many ponies will die, but
there’s nothing I can do that will save them. Maybe I can get word out
to a military base somehow, and they can come reinforce the city. It’s a
long shot, but I don’t know what other options I have.
Spike is shouting at me to slow down and stop as I drag him through
the streets, ignoring the looks the other ponies are giving me. They
don’t know what might be about to happen, and even if I had time to do
so I wouldn’t take that innocence away from them. Besides, who knows
which one of them might be another changeling in disguise?
The closest encampment I can think of is Fort Trottingham, about two
and a half hours away in the town of the same name. Lucky me there’s a
shuttle leaving in that direction in just a few minutes. I buy two
tickets at the station, tossing a hoofful of golden bit coins onto the
counter and running off without waiting for change. It’s only after I’ve
boarded the train and collapsed into a seat that I finally stop.
I withdraw my magic and let Spike go. He’s not happy with me. “What
in Tartarus was that about Twilight? Where are we going all of a
sudden?” he asks. I wish I had a better answer than the turth.
“Spike, I just need you to trust me,” I say. The train shudders as
it starts to pull away from the platform and I have a chance to glance
around. It’s an awfully full train for the middle of the afternoon.
That’s good. Fewer ponies who will have to endure the fate I’ve seen for
this city. Ponies who don’t know how lucky they are yet.
“Did that spell do something to you? Here, let me check your
pupils,” says Spike. He brings a claw up to my face but I swat it away. I
know what spell madness feels like, and this isn’t that.
“No, I’m... the spell didn’t do anything to me, I promise. It just
showed me what was going to happen. Not just showed me, I lived it.
Changelings invaded Canterlot. Are going to invade Canterlot, in less
than an hour. I tried to fight them off but they...” I trail off. I
don’t want to remember those last couple minutes if I can help it.
“...After they got me I was back in the library and I thought it was
just a crazy dream. But then it happened again. It was different, I
tried to make it different I mean, but it turned out the same and then I
was back at the library again. It always makes me go back to the
library.”
“Even if that’s true, we can’t just run away. Let’s tell the Princess what happens. She can help.”
“No, don’t you get it? They’ve already gotten to her! We can’t trust
anypony,” I hiss under my breath, trying to keep myself under control. I
glance around to make sure nopony else has noticed us, and when I look
back at Spike I can tell that he’s evaluating me. No, why beat around
the bush? He’s judging me.
“Look Twilight, I know that what happened at the wedding last year
was pretty bad, but maybe we can talk about this rationally instead of-”
“I’m not crazy!” I shout, loud enough that the statement is
counterproductive. There’s a clatter from the seat across from us,
ceramic on ceramic. When I turn my head to see where the sound is coming
from, I see two stallions and a mare staring intently at the spilled
cup of tea in front of them. They’re focusing very hard on looking in
any direction except mine. “We can talk about this more when we get to
Trottingham. Let’s just... not... until then.”
I turn to look out the window rather than face Spike again just now.
I can imagine what he’s thinking. It’s true that I’ve tended to
overreact a few times before. Maybe more than a few times. But this
isn’t like that. He’ll see that I’m right, of course, once it’s too late
to do any good. Until then, I’d rather just stare out at the world
going by than say anything.
The countryside is beautiful. Every tree is an explosion of colors,
even as the flowers look to be getting ready to wilt away and die. They
die every year, and then come back. Temporary and yet permanent at the
same time. Funny how I’ve never noticed it before. I’ve always been
wrapped up in my own thoughts. Now that I desperately want to be
anywhere other than inside my own head, though, I find the world
suddenly worth observing.
My newfound appreciation for the unexceptional doesn’t last for all
that long. Soon enough we’re only a few miles from Trottingham. I’m busy
running through arguments in my head, trying to figure out the best way
to phrase ‘help me save everypony from the hostile shapeshifter
invasion” to the ponies I’ll need assistance from, when the interior of
the train is suddenly bathed in a harsh and unforgiving light. A moment
later the entire carriage vibrates as if something massive has just
slammed into us. A dozen ponies, too curious to respect the social
protocols that usually govern relations between passengers, climb over
each other to cluster around the windows on the far side of the
carriage. I don’t need to. Through their craning necks I can see a wall
of white crackling fire and magical energy that seems to expand as it
races towards us. Everything in its path disappears into the blinding
light as it carves a path through the surrounding countryside.
I’m a scientist at heart. I don’t normally deal in hunches and
intuition. But I somehow know, without any explicit evidence yet also
without any doubt, that this wave of unfathomable power started in
Canterlot. I also know that it won’t stop before it devours our train
and all of Equestria beyond. I barely even have time to squeeze my eyes
closed before it’s upon us, burning away everything I know, everything I
am, and any hope I carried with me of changing the future.
...Die, Die Again
...Die, Die Again
“Well that didn’t work.”
The pain isn’t that bad when you’re expecting it, or maybe it’s just
being overshadowed by the sensation of hopelessness I’m wallowing in.
Can’t fight, can’t escape, can’t warn Princess Celestia of what I know.
Anypony could be a changeling. Say the wrong thing to the wrong pony,
and it’s all over.
That’s not exactly true either, is it? It’s never going to be over.
Not as long as this spell holds out. I’m just going to keep reliving it
over and over again. I can’t even bring things back with me, other than
information.
Other than information.
No, that’s an insane idea. There’s no way it could be that simple.
Or maybe it could be. Simple doesn’t mean easy. Lifting a mountain
is simple in theory, just wrap a sufficiently sized telekinesis field
around it and lift really, really hard. Maybe exploiting a time loop to
carry information from one iteration to the next in the hopes of
gradually manipulating the timestream to my advantage to dramatically
alter the outcome of events qualifies.
It’s also possible that all the ‘saving the world’ stuff I’ve been
doing over the last few years has dramatically shifted my outlook on
what sort of things can be considered simple. Maybe seriously
considering time travel as the most practical solution to a problem
you’re facing is on a checklist somewhere of ‘Signs that You Should Take
a Step Back and a Long, Hard Look at Your Life.’
“Twilight? You feeling OK? That looked like it hurt,” said Spike.
“It did,” I reply. I stand, shaking off the aftereffects of the
spell more quickly than I did last time. “Spike, forget the spell. I
need you to go find everything you can in this part of the library about
changelings. Quick as you can.”
“Changelings? But Twilight-”
“I’ll explain later,” I say. Odds are I won’t but I’m going to need
every second I can get to figure out the best course of action from here
on out. That means research, hardcore research.
Spike returns a few minutes later and I go to work. I’m getting
maybe a single new fact about them for every twenty pages I read, and
most of that’s unverifiable rumors. I’m shaken out of my hyperfocused
stupor by Spike a couple of hours later. I’m annoyed by the interruption
but considering that the library around me is on fire, it’s hard to
fault him for his decision. I blink a few times as the intense heat
registers in my brain for the first time. “Twilight, changelings are
attacking the palace. We’ve gotta get out of here,” he says.
I nod to him. “You’re right, Spike,” I glance up at a support beam
above us that’s nearly burned through. I put the many years of
trigonometry and geometry lessons I’ve had towards a far more morbid
purpose than they were ever intended for. “Tell you what, there’s one
more book I want to take with us when we go, it’s not far from here. I
think it’s in the stacks over that way,” I wave a hoof vaguely towards
the stacks. “Look for a book called, uh, ‘The Secret to Defeating a
Surprise Changeling Invasion.’”
“Somepony wrote a book like that? Why didn’t you ask for it earlier?
I’ll be right back,” he says. Gullible to the end. I hate lying to him,
but I’d hate letting him watch this even more. I double check my math
and scoot one step to my right, followed by two steps backwards. The
beam above me crackles and snaps loose from its moorings, swinging
straight towards my face.
Oh Celestia, please let me be right about this.
----------------------------------------------
“Well that didn’t work.”
Wanna bet?
All of this is just a big puzzle, and I’m good at puzzles. You can’t
solve a puzzle without all the pieces though, so now that I’ve made up
my mind to take advantage of being mortality-challenged I’m off to
gather data. Breaking it down, there’s four major problems that I know
of. First, Chrysalis replaced or will replace Princess Celestia somehow.
I have to either neutralize her or prevent the takeover in the first
place. Second, there’s a whole plague of changelings on its way here.
Third, the changelings must’ve been laying the groundwork for this
invasion for a while now so they’ve probably replaced a bunch of other
ponies too, and right now I can’t tell which ones. Finally, in about
three hours the world blows up, and I have no idea why.
Well, puzzles that are easy to solve aren’t any fun, right?
Last one first. My first time back after taking that support beam to
the face I drop everything and head to the top of the highest tower in
the castle and lock myself in, under the cover story that I want to take
a nap. Instead, I use the vantage point to look out over Equestria and
just observe.
It’s a nice day, bright and sunny. The skyline is marred only by a
single dark patch off to the northeast. It would be easy to think it was
just a storm cloud if I didn’t already know better. Still, for it to
already be that size when it must over a dozen miles away (based on the
average airspeed velocity of an unladen changeling) that swarm would
have to have more changelings than... than... than a thing that has a
lot of changelings in it.
I’m not good at metaphors, OK? Poetry in general is lost on me. When
I try to turn a phrase it usually ends up in an impossible,
non-euclidean shape. I’ve always been that way. In fact a former tutor
of mine, during a moment in frustration after I tried to rhyme the word
“pony” with itself four times in a single stanza, once told me he was
revoking my poetic license.
Threat of the imminent invasion aside, there isn’t much else to see.
I think I can just make out Ponyville on the horizon, and a little
trail of steam moving across the fields between us. That might even be
the train with my friends on it, due to get here at 6:30 sharp just in
time for a late dinner. Very late, the way things have been going so
far.
The swarm of changelings grows closer and they’ll be attacking any
moment. I close the shutters of the windows, both to avoid being spotted
and avoid looking down at the city when they arrive. The idea of my own
death I’m coming to terms with. The scale of what happens to everypony
else I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around. Just enduring the awful
noises that float up this high is terrible. I try distracting myself by
reading, but I can’t. Finally I just cower against a wall and try to
block out as much of it as I can.
I came up here for a reason though. At 5:40 I throw the windows
open. If I close my eyes, I can block out the sights of burning
buildings and little multi-colored shapes in the street fleeing for
their lives before the little black shapes fall on them and they stop
forever. If I cover my ears I can block out their screams, too. What I
hadn’t accounted for was the smell, burning roofs and plants and bodies
all mixing together in an awful cocktail of death and pain drifting
right up into my unsuspecting nostrils.
I throw up. I just need to get the smell of burning flesh out of me.
Wish I’d thought to bring a glass of water up here with me, but I
didn’t. The minutes tick by horribly slowly. 5:53... 5:54... Maybe
nothing of interest will happen this time.
Three minutes later I turn out to be very wrong. The entire castle
shudders, and I look out the window to try to figure out where the blast
just came from. Nothing out in the distance looks all that different.
Then I look down. The first bits of the wave of light that consumed the
train I took to Trottingham in another life are peeking through the
castle masonry. It’s shaking and trembling in time with my own knees. So
whatever this thing is, it comes from inside the castle? It takes its
time as it disintegrates the castle walls and the tower I’m lurking
inside tilts and falls into the expanding ocean of energy below. My horn
tingles. Whatever this energy is, it’s something I’ve felt before
though never with this kind of intensity.
At least it’s quick. I’ve barely even felt my eyeballs start to boil before everything is over.
-----------
“Well that didn’t work.”
I’ve got a lead on the origins on the Wall of Horrible Shiny Death,
as I’ve come to think of it. I spent the last three loops observing it
from different places within the castle, and I should have enough
information to triangulate it.. The wall came from within the main body
of the castle, and it wasn’t from the library. I’m more or less sure of
the general place it’s coming from now. The palace vaults, where the
Elements of Harmony are stored.
I don’t want to believe that the Elements could ever do something
like this, but they’re the only thing I can think of that could be this
powerful. They were created to counter disharmony after all. It’s
plausible that in the presence of enough disharmony, like say a city
being sacked and pillaged by changelings, and without any bearers around
to channel them they might counter it explosively. It would explain why
Celestia left them out in the middle of nowhere during the aftermath of
Luna’s rebellion, at least.
I never realized how close the city must have come to total
annihilation during the changeling attack on my brother’s wedding, or
during Discord’s escape. It’s a little unnerving that the power my
friends and I wielded through them could be such a double edged sword.
Or maybe it's some kind of interaction with the time spell instead. I’ve
read everything I can lay my hooves on pertaining to the Elements, but
mostly I’ve just learned how little anypony actually knows about them.
Making a beeline for the vaults, I find them unguarded. Anything
that can break through the vault’s defensive enchantments wouldn’t be
slowed down by a few royal guards anyway, so why bother? But I know the
way around them. Pressing my horn against the lock and visualizing the
series of runes that serve as the pass code, I’m relieved when the vault
door trembles and pulls aside. Inside are hundreds of treasures from
ancient ages and an incalculable amount of wealth in gems and gold
coins.
Well, probably not actually incalculable. You would just need to
take enough random samples of a fixed volume from the heaps of treasure
to figure out a statistically significant average value of the treasure
per cubic meter. Then calculate the treasures total volume which if we
assume the shape of those heaps can be approximated as cones would be
given by the formula-
No! Focus, Twilight, you’re here for a reason!
The Elements are right where I expect to find them, propped up and
on display on a pedestal in the center of the room. As I get closer I
can feel the buildup of seething magical energy within them. They feel
mad; mad enough to do something rash. The Element of Magic even gives me
a little shock as I reach out and touch it.
“Easy fella, I’m just trying to help,” I say and immediately feel
like an idiot for talking to a magic crown. I run every test and magical
diagnostic I can think of, but all they can do is repeatedly confirm
that, yes, there’s about to be a very big boom.
It’s 5:15 and I’ve made absolutely zero useful progress. Chrysalis
will be here any second. I get a really, really stupid idea. If it’s
some kind of energy build up, maybe I can vent it somehow? I’ve tapped
into them before, and I would only need to release just enough energy to
prevent a larger explosion. Plus I’m in the middle of a war zone; it’s
not like there’s a shortage of targets.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. I grab all six Elements
and try to work out a feasible configuration for wearing them all at
the same time. After nearly choking myself trying to put on five
necklaces at once, I settle for wearing four of them as bracelet around
my forelegs. Loyalty and Honesty on my left, Generosity and Laughter on
my right, and Kindness worn as intended. I wonder if somepony with too
much time on their hooves and a dirty mind would read anything into
that.
The ambient field of magic they’re giving off makes my teeth chatter
and my fur stand on edge. I can’t quite see straight, either. If I’m
going to do this I better do it fast. I walk unsteadily through the
halls of the castle and find the nearest balcony I can overlooking the
city, the sky dark with changelings zipping to and fro battling the
royal guard.
I try to cut through the tempest of magic raging inside me and
center myself. When I look up again I’m more confident than ever. Know
why? Because the bonds of friendship transcend time and space. Even
though my friends are riding a train right now and unaware of what’s
happening they carry with them a part of me in every one of their souls,
just as I carry a part of them in mine. They’re absolutely here, in
spirit, and I’m not about to let them down. No power based on something
so good and so pure as friendship could ever harm me. I feel the same
spark in my heart I did the moment I realized that the five of us were
destined to become best friends, and as I reach for it I’m more sure
than I ever have been of anything that this is definitely going to work.
-------------------------
“Well that didn’t work.”
So apparently even when your intentions are good misusing the power
of friendship can not only hurt you, but can make every particle in your
body explode at the same time. There’s probably a decent friendship
report buried somewhere in that observation but I’m in no mood to
uncover it right now.
Maybe I’ll table the Elements of Harmony explosion thing for the
time being. If I stop the invasion, that’ll probably stop whatever
disharmony buildup is going on with them anyway. I have more fruitful
avenues of investigation to pursue. First, can I save Princess Celestia?
The first place I check is the throne room, which is empty. That’s
unusual in and of itself. Afternoon court should be in session, and if
Chrysalis had already replaced Princess Celestia she’d almost certainly
be here administering it. The next place to check is the Princess’
private quarters, and I strike paydirt.
The Princess’ room is guarded not by the usual pair of guards, but
by nearly thirty of them. All thirty guards are the same in appearance,
too. Not just similar, exactly the same, like some impossible set of
identical trigintatuplets.
I walk up to the closest one. “I’m Twilight Sparkle. I need to see the Princess. Now”
His expression doesn’t change at all. “Sorry, nopony sees the
Princess right now,” he says. His mistake. Ponies in the palace who are
telling me I can’t do something usually at least have the good graces to
be embarrassed at denying something to Celestia’s personal protege.
“Ha! Nice try, you pathetic little changeling nuisance. That’s right
I know exactly what you are. You didn’t count on me being able to
teleport did you? How do you think you’ll stop me now?”
I disappear into thin air, triumphant.
---------------
“Well that didn’t work.”
Oh, right. Teleportation-proof bedrooms. Forgot about that. I rub
the spots on my flank where the changelings’ spears pierced me, still
haunted by phantom pains that are slow to fade. I can’t fight my way
past past thirty changelings. Only a Princess could.
Better to just face it; I’m stumped. It’s well past time to consider
our other Princess, I suppose. Time to wake up Princess Luna.
I march down to her bedroom. There are four guards in front of her
door instead of the usual two. And they’re all identical. And they’re
identical to the thirty guards I just encountered.
Still, four changelings are better than thirty, right?
I charge.
-------------------
“Well that didn’t work.”
“No, it didn’t, but I have a good feeling about my next try. I just
have to remember to spin right, juke left, duck the spear, grab
changeling C by the neck and swing it into D so he’s off balance and
can’t make a killing strike, then jump, duck again, roll under
changeling A, and when I come up be ready to smack changeling B in the
face rather than trying to sweep the leg. Eighth time’s the charm,
right?”
Spike looks confused, and I don’t think he’s quite sure how to
respond. He wasn’t the last six time either and it’s only gotten more
complicated since then. That’s just fine. I give him a gentle pat on the
head before I head off to try again, humming a jaunty tune as I go.
----------------------
It’s the little things that really make life worth living. Or
reliving, as the case may be. Things like the look on changeling’s face
while he watches the adorable filly who he thought he and his three
friends were going to stomp instead beat the everloving ichor out of
said friends without even breaking a sweat. The noise he makes in the
moment he realizes that he’s next. The squishing sensation when I body
slam him into a wall and he collapses.
Good times.
Nothing stands between me and Luna’s bedroom doors now. I push them open and look into the room.
Well, I try to look into the room. Even though the hallway is
brightly lit, none of that light illuminates the bedroom. There’s a
sharp line of demarcation right at her threshold where it just stops and
everything beyond is pitch black. I step inside and I’m immediately
plunged into total darkness. I try to look back out into the hallway
just to reassure myself it’s still there, but there’s only darkness
behind me. I could be a single step from the door or a mile from it,
there’s no way to tell.
I step gingerly across the room, careful not to bark my shin on
anything. I can’t hear anything other than the sound of my own breath.
“Princess Luna? Are you in here?”
“Yes.” The voice is the faintest hint of a whisper, delivered from
so close my ear twitches as the gentle currents of air blow over them.
I find out that I can scream a lot louder than I thought I could.
“Twilight! Lower your voice, I’m right here,” says Luna from
somewhere nearby. I’m glad she finally ditched some of her more archaic
speech patterns, but she’s still really creepy when she forgets not to
be.
I try to slow my racing heart. “Luna, could you turn down the dark a little?”
There’s a little ‘hmph’ noise of displeasure from somewhere, but
then the light from the hallway spills into the room brightening it ever
so slightly. It’s hard to make anything out but I can tell the Princess
is right next to me now, and a little groggy from just having woken up.
“It is not even four PM. What is the meaning of awakening us at this
unFaustly hour?”
I get right to the point. “Princess, changelings are inside the
palace. Celestia is in trouble and the city will be under attack any
minute now. We need your help.” I diplomatically fail to mention that
she was just about to sleep through the entire thing, just like the last
time this happened.
It’s clear from the expression on her face that she hasn’t forgotten
that either. She looks out into the hallway behind me at the four
unconscious changelings, who reverted to their true shapes after I
knocked them out. We leave them where they are and I have to trot
quicker than usual to keep up with Luna as she stalks through the palace
towards her sister’s room. Guards and servants turn their heads,
curious at what could drive the Princess from her bed this early. Not
knowing who to trust and not wanting to give Chrysalis any warning that
we’re coming, we pass by without explanation.
We turn the corner and the pack of identical guards are still
standing there in front of Celestia’s bedroom door. Luna glares at them
and begins to walk forward. “Move,” she says without stopping to wait
for them to do so.
Instead they hiss at her and crouch down, ready to fight.
“Twilight, I will handle this. Aid my sister and I will join you
momentarily,” says Luna as her horn begins to flicker with an angry
glow. I nod, and a quick teleport later I’m standing on the other side
of the changeling pack. They charge towards Luna, leaving me unmolested
as I open the door. Before I step inside I hesitate, though. Sure,
Luna’s powerful but she’s not invincible. Maybe I should stay out here
and help her, despite what she said.
While I’m considering this a spark of dark magic flies out of the
melee and strikes a nearby wall. The wall twists and warps as space and
time rend themselves apart at her command, opening up an inky black gash
in reality. Tendrils of solid darkness strike out from the places
between dimensions and wrap around three changelings at the edge of the
mob. They barely have time to scream before the tentacles retract just
as quickly and yank them back through the portal. It seals shut leaving
no evidence it was ever there at all.
She’ll be fine.
I step through the doorway and into the middle of a war zone. The
blistering heat is almost a solid force in its intensity. The bed is
shredded and chunks of mattress have been gouged out and scattered over
the room. The archway leading out to the balcony is blocked, covered by
some sort of heavy webbing. Celestia is crouched in the splintered
remains of her writing desk, scratched up and bleeding but not seriously
hurt. All her focus is on pouring forth a blast of magical energy from
her horn. Over on the other side of the room, another Celestia stands by
the fireplace doing the same thing, The magic energy comes smashing
together in the center of the room, evenly matched.
“Twilight! She’s a changeling! You have to help me stop her,” says
the the Celestia by the fireplace, shouting to be heard over the spells
crashing against one another.
“She’s lying, Twilight,” says the one by the desk. “She’s the changeling, not me!”
Although I’m not a match for either one of these two on my own, my
magic should be enough to tip the balance one way or the other. But how
am I supposed to tell which one’s the real Celestia?
“Can’t you tell she’s lying? Think of all the special times we had
together, everything I taught you. Can’t you tell that it’s me?” asks
the first Celestia. She can’t turn to properly face me, but she’s
looking in my direction with pleading eyes.
“Twilight, I understand. She’s an excellent liar,” says the second
one, “we can’t let her lead the invasion she’s planning. If you aren’t
going to choose me, blast us both.”
Blast them both? I can’t do that. I can’t knowing blast Princess Celestia with my magic.
“Do it! Blast us both, for the sake of Equestria,” she commands.
Of course. The real Celestia would put the protection of her ponies
above her own well being. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. I spin
around on the Celestia by the desk and channel a surge of magic in her
direction. She doesn’t have anything left to block it with, and the
impact breaks her concentration enough for the real Celestia’s magic to
overwhelm hers and deliver the knockout blow. The fake Celestia gives a
cry of pain and collapses into a heap.
The real Celestia lets her magic slow to a trickle and peter out.
She stands there for a few moments panting before she falls to her
knees.
“Princess!” I dash over to her and kneel down in front of her trying to see her face. “You’re hurt.”
“I will live, thanks to you. I know that must have been a difficult thing to do,” she says.
“I knew you had to be the real one, Princess.”
Celestia nuzzles my neck and pulls me close to her for a hug. After
everything I went through to get to this moment, this makes it all worth
it. With the help of both Princesses and Chrysalis gone there’s no way
the changelings can invade now.
One little detail nags at me as I look back at the fake Celestia. Shouldn’t she have reverted to her changeling form by now?
Celestia’s hooves wrap around me even tighter and push me to the
ground. She leans further into the hug, bringing her head down and bites
me on my back right between my shoulder blades.
I cry out for Luna to help me but the doors are closed and the
soundproofing spells won’t be so easily overcome. I try to fight back
and squirm out of her jaws but she shifts her weight and pins me down. I
feel her jaw muscles flex and suddenly there’s a burning sensation
emanating from where she’s biting, spreading through my veins. I scream
and thrash but it’s useless. The burning is moving up my neck and face
and I find that I can’t think straight. I’m flailing around even though I
can’t remember why any more. I have to remember... something. My head
hurts so much when I try to remember.
I gasp and open up my eyes. Oh thank goodness. How can there be
anything to worry about when I’m in the safest place in the world? I’m
right where I should be; with Princess Celestia.
I stop struggling and lay against her, exhausted but not sure how I got that way.
“Doesn’t that feel so much better, Twilight?” she asks. I don’t say
anything but I smile up at her, drifting in a blissful fog. Why was I
trying to remember, anyway? Thinking for myself is overrated. The
Princess is so much smarter and stronger than a worthless thing like me.
Everything will be better if I just trust her and do what she says. She
mutters something to herself about how she can’t believe ponies fall
for that line every time but I don’t really understand what she means by
that.
“Twilight, do you love me?”
I feel like I’ve been yanked out of my wonderful repose and dunked
in a bath of ice water. How can she even ask me that? Haven’t I proven
to her a hundred times over by now just how devoted I am? Well if I
haven’t proven my love to her yet then I’ll just have to love her even
harder, even if I could never hope to deserve the love of such a perfect
creature in return.
“I love you Princess. I love you completely, deeply, utterly, and in
every conceivable way. You’re the most important pony in the whole
world to me,” I say looking her straight in the eyes as I do.
Celestia purrs and licks her lips. “Mmm... Yes you really do, don’t
you? Thank you Twilight, I needed that. Now I need you to do something
else for me. Will you?”
“Anything, Princess. Just tell me what it is.”
“It’s terrible, Twilight, Luna’s gone mad and become Nightmare Moon
again. She’s coming to kill me. In fact she’s right outside fighting my
guards,” says Celestia.
What? Luna wants to hurt Princess Celestia? I’m furious. I hate Luna. She’s a horrible monster. “How can I help?”
“I can’t fight her, not right now,” says Celestia. She stands up and
walks towards her balcony. Suddenly not being able to touch her makes
my whole world dark and cold. I’ll do whatever she asks, anything just
for the chance to be near her again. “Stay here. When Luna comes in
looking for me, I want you to kill her or die trying.”
Wow! The Princess must really love me if she’d give me an important
job like that. I give her a sharp salute. “You got it, Princess!”
She smiles and pushes the webbing to one side, walking out onto the
sunny balcony and spreading her wings as she leaps into the air. Not a
moment later the door to the hallway begins to open. I bet that’s Luna
now.
I quiver with anticipation at the prospect of being able to follow
the Princess’ command and die for her. I’m such a lucky little pony.
---------------------
Luna will deal with the changeling guards just fine without my help.
I open the door to Celestia’s bedroom and walk in. The heat’s not as
noticeable as it was last time, maybe my own body temperature is just
higher.
“Twilight! She’s-”
That’s as far as Chrysalis gets before I unload every spell I can think of into her smug changeling face.
Like before, my magic disrupts the target’s defenses and creates an
opening for Celestia. The beam of solar power throws Chrysalis into the
wall and the impact knocks her back into her natural form before she
drops passed out onto the floor. Celestia looks exhausted by the effort,
but I don’t go over to her. I go over to check on Chrysalis.
She’s still breathing.
I could change that. The way I feel right now I could call up all
manner of dark magics that draw unimaginable power from the caster’s own
anger or hatred or shame. Defenseless as she is right now she wouldn’t
be able to stop me. Maybe I could even live with myself afterwards.
Before I can decide one way or the other I feel a gentle hoof laid
across my back. I turn to see Celestia looking at me with somber and
weary eyes. I can tell she’s reading me like an open book.
“She can’t hurt you now, Twilight. You’re safe.”
I don’t go to her, but I don’t resist as she wraps her wings around me either.
Leaning against her chest, I feel like I understand something a bit
better. Love, real love rather than that sick parody I felt before,
isn’t based on mindless, slavish devotion or obedience. It comes from
mutual respect. I love Celestia, and I know she loves me back. That
doesn’t mean we let the other do whatever they want unquestioningly, and
we’re both better off for it.
Luna enters the room to find us like that, and the tension she’s
carrying drains out of her posture when she sees Chrysalis lying by the
fireplace. My moment of peace is cut short when the memory of everything
else that’s about to happen comes crashing back in.
I give them the short version of what I know. About the time loop
and the invasion and the Elements. When I’m done the princesses sit in
silent thought for a few moments.
“I suspect you are correct about the Elements of Harmony, although
it is not like them to behave in such a manner. I will go to the vault
and see what magic I might know that can forestall the explosion you
mentioned, at least for some time. With luck we can postpone it long
enough for the bearers to get here,” says Celestia.
“I will add my strength to that of our defenders, the better to protect the city until the others arrive,” says Luna.
“What about her?” I ask, nodding over towards Chrysalis who’s still out cold.
“Nothing we can do to her will stop the attack from coming if it is
already as close as you say. Not even killing her,” says Celestia with a
pointed glance in my direction at the last part. “We will imprison her
in the dungeons for the time being. Once the invasion has been stopped
we will negotiate her surrender so the changelings can withdraw in an
orderly way, rather than allowing them to turn wild an