Night had already fallen across Equestria, and Luna’s moon shone brightly in the sky surrounded by a vast starry mantle. This was a sight Celestia tended to glimpse for a brief while before retiring to her own bedchambers to rest.

Yet, this evening, Celestia felt too restless to sleep—and she could not have said why.

It was certainly not due to the nonstop rush of the day spent advising parishioners or facing committees to develop plans for anything from festivals to the arrival of foreign dignitaries. Celestia had grown so used to such proceedings, she now transitioned from one to the other without breaking stride—or even thinking much of the switch—followed and reminded of various tasks to complete by her faithful advisor, Kibitz.

The stately Kibitz’ came from a long line of ponies who had attended Celestia and were masters at scheduling even the briefest meetings months in advance. And she would have been a foal to deny how much Kibitz and his family had meant to her, or how she had relied upon them for their advice and mere presence. Having somepony nearby always had had a way of giving her a little more strength, especially when that pony deal with time in some way.

Time.

Passing through one of the adjoining studies to her room, Celestia paused (as she usually did) before a large stained-glass window that portrayed a wizened pony dressed in a blue robe fringed by bells—against a star backdrop and lifting one hoof toward the infinite reaches of space.  

Starswirl the Bearded.

Her mentor.

He had been a master with time too, though rarely constricted by it. Instead, Starswirl had spent many late nights down in his study and library beneath Canterlot Castle, researching numerous magic spells and making breakthroughs—whereas, Kibitz always turned in at a prearranged time each evening (to coincide with the seasons and passage of the year) before Luna and her guards took control until the following dawn.

Celestia stared at the image, as if willing the window to become a looking glass into memory. Or, perhaps, to lead to somewhere or somepony else entirely.

But the memory arrived the fastest…

***

The window had been a gift.

“So, do you like it?” A much younger Celestia asked, hesitating, while Starswirl stood studying the stained-glass picture of himself. “I created the design and arranged the pieces myself, but I probably should have asked the royal glassmaker or another artist to do the work instead.”

“An uncanny resemblance, Celestia,” Starswirl rasped a chuckle—soft yet comforting—that would forever echo in her mind, accompanied by the jingling of bells. The bells and chuckle intensified, and the old stallion creaked into a sitting position on his back haunches. “Or, perhaps this gift does me more justice than I warrant!”

“I wanted to make sure it looked just right, so ponies will have a way to remember you.”

“Just as long as they don’t mistake me for an old goat.”

“Does it look like that?” Celestia panicked.

“Of course, not, Princess.” Starswirl placed a consoling hoof on Celestia’s leg (it took too much effort to reach up to her shoulder. His arthritis had been working up that evening). “I think it is a respectable masterpiece, and shows off what you have learned. It would even made a fine trend. But—”

“But—?”

“It is my wish to have ponies remember me by enjoying the benefits of the work I have done, or to build on whatever I leave behind.” He smiled, in a small, sad way that sent a small shiver through Celestia. “Besides, our friendship, and how you remember me, would mean the most anyway.”

At that point, Celestia put a hoof around Starswirl’s thin and bony shoulders, and hugged him.

***

“I know,” Celestia murmured, coming back to herself in the present, and then realized she had spoken the answer aloud. Warmth rose to her cheeks, and the sensation of being caught doing something awkward overcame her although there was no pony around to have witnessed it.

The pony in the window would not answer, as it never had before this evening.

Still, Celestia gave a brief, reverent nod to the window before striding out and into her chambers at last. Her pulse was racing for some reason, though the sight of her pet Philomena on her perch helped to calm her nerves. The phoenix welcomed her with a squawk, and Celestia reached up to scratch her on the neck, where she enjoyed it the most—and got rewarded for the gesture with low cooing sounds.

“Good night, my pet,” Celestia whispered, and Philomena tucked her beak under one wing to fall asleep.

Her own bed would usually have looked so comfortable and warm, yet this time Celestia avoided it and headed for the balcony instead. She could tell this was going to be one of those evenings, which she had every once in a while at the oddest times, where the only remedy was to burn off extra energy by roaming around the castle halls.

On her way to the balcony, however, Celestia passed by the wide mirror above one of her desks and had the sneaking suspicion something was wrong.

She looked in the mirror.

Well, perhaps not wrong, exactly, yet just out of place.

There was a brush laid upon this desk (beside a basin of water), and Celestia picked it up and began combing out her long, flowing mane.

But the problem was not with her mane.

The reflection across from her was doing the same thing, as most reflections were wont to do. Yet instead of viewing her thin white face, with bright blue eyes, and yellow crown set over her brow, what (or who) stared back had a much difference countenance.

It was asymmetrical, with a mismatched goat horn and deer antler upon the head, attached to a face that boasted bushy white eyebrows with yellow eyes that had red irises of different sizes—and not to mention the one fang sticking down from the upper lip and a small beard.

The figure was going through the same motions as Celestia, even going so far as to make his short, dark mane stretch out with one stroke of the mirrored brush as if to mimic hers.

Yet Celestia only proceeded to calmly comb her mane, set down the brush, and leave the room—aware now that the reflection was following her in every shiny surface along the way. She made sure to take a different route than the one that would take her through the room with Starswirl’s glass depiction and soon came to the audience chamber.

Luna rarely, if ever, needed to use this room. She tended to stay far too busy abroad, visiting the dreams of different ponies and fending off countless dark creatures that wandered Equestria at that period.

In this room, there were several stained-glass pictures—with many displaying more recent events in Equestria that filled Celestia with pride, especially the ones of her own former student, Twilight Sparkle.

And as Celestia made her way toward the throne, one of the characters on the stained-glass images started to move and follow alongside her.

The same character even had to shuffle to one side as Celestia walked across its reflection cast upon the floor by the light of the moon behind it.

Celestia took her seat.

“Really, Princess Celestia,” The stained-glass figure stretched upwards, growing less sharp around the edges and filling out until—with one final popping sound—before her stood none other than a full-size draconequus. His voice echoed across the room until then as well, where it was as if somepony had suddenly turned off the effect. He made a sweeping bow. “You could have at least given me the satisfaction of appearing a little surprised when I showed up. I make entrances like that for a reason.”

“Then you have my humblest apologies, Discord,” Celestia replied. “Of course, I also appreciate it when meetings take place during the day, or during arranged times, rather than in my room late in the evening. I am supposed to be asleep by this hour.”

“Ah, but you weren’t,” Discord noted, smirking. “Besides, ‘Your Majesty’—” he said this jokingly, yet with hints of chastisement lurking beneath the surface, “mustn’t forget that she was the one sending ponies out on late-night expeditions.”

Celestia had to confess this was exactly what she had done to Discord the night before, calling to send him to—

Well, they would get to that.

“You’re right,” Celestia said. “But perhaps you would like to tell me what caused your delay in coming to report in earlier?”

“Well, a few unexpected obligations did pop up.”

“’Obligations’?” Celestia, despite herself, was rising from her chair. “Do you mean—?”

“Yeeup,” Discord answered. “Although there’s no need to get so worried. Just listen to what happened to me today.”

Then he proceeded to tell Celestia a peculiar tale involving Diamond Dogs.

Perched upon her throne, Celestia had heard countless stories from ponies far and wide—both from within and beyond the boundaries of Equestria—and she cared for such anecdotes almost as much as their bearers. This was true even though years of experience had inured the princess to considering them with impartial care, drawing on a vast wealth of past knowledge or patterns they offered to assist ponies in similar circumstances who appeared before her seeking advice or aid. Because of this, it was often difficult for anything her subjects said to rattle or affect in the same way as it did for them, outside of urgent matters on a realm-wide scale.

Yet stories could still surprise her, once in a while.

That was exactly what happened when Discord unfurled his narrative, which began in a quiet way as he told of three Diamond Dogs who had been exiled from the Kingdom of Dimondia—and how they had stumbled across the Tree of Harmony and decided to steal the Elements of Harmony from its branches. Then he spoke of how TOH (as Discord called it) had summoned him while drifting off to sleep from all the way across Equestria to protect them, and how his body had reacted in the process. He discussed the past history of the Diamond Dogs, and his dealings with them in the Appaloosan Mountain Ranges, including the numerous pranks and tricks he had pulled (although, at this point, he had paused amid the mounting enthusiasm as if remembering to whom he was speaking).

But by this time, it seemed the audience chamber had disappeared for Celestia, and all she knew was the yarn spinning out before her. In truth, Discord did little more than recount what had happened without a lot of magical illustration or visual metaphors. Instead, he painted the images in her mind through his words alone—which was its own kind of subtle magic, especially when done just right. And in the way such magic possessed, Celestia was able to listen more as a transfixed audience than ruler as Discord continued to tell of the growing mess of misunderstanding between the Diamond Dogs and himself, where she was vaguely aware of smiling or chuckling during certain parts.

Then came the part with Rarity, and from there the story wound down and finally faded on the thin air. Thereupon, the audience chamber reasserted itself, and Celestia was once more herself before Discord—ruler and subject, friend before friend late in the evening—with important news still to deliver.

Silence.

“But I digress,” Discord said then, as if he had just made some off-hoof comment about the weather in Equestria, though the mischief sparkling in his gaze was clear enough. “So, you wanted that report?”

“In a moment, Discord,” Celestia replied, since it would probably take that long for all the appropriate details to sink back in afterwards. Besides, there were issues to address in regards to the events mentioned, starting with the simplest matter first. “You said the Diamond Dogs were banished from their kingdom, which means they are essentially refugees in Equestria for months. If I had known, perhaps we could have opened negotiations with the Kingdom of Dimondia.”

“It worked out all right in the end, though.” Discord shrugged his shoulders. “The Diamond Dogs got a new mine, Rarity received some much-needed help, and both sides now have all the gems they could ever want. Besides, I doubt those dogs would ever want to return to that ramshackle kingdom. They appeared quite happy.”

“That is good news, and a perfectly diplomatic solution. Even so, perhaps I should provide the Diamond Dogs with more of a formal welcome.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, Princess Celestia. If you so much as said ‘hello’ to them, they would probably fall unconscious. You should have seen how they were doting on Rarity, and how a simple smile from her impacted them.” Discord’s nose crinkled, apparently in remembrance of that curious sight.

“I see,” Celestia chuckled. “And they also should meet Twilight before much longer, and she will help to welcome them to Ponyville as well.” At the thought of her former student, Celestia pressed on, “Discord, when the Tree of Harmony called to you from across Equestria, do you know if Twilight had any idea of the possible threat as well?”

“No,” Discord said. “Otherwise, I’m sure she would have come running from her palace. As it was, when I checked on her later, Twilight was reading happily at the library surrounded by stacks of books.” He heaved an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head and tugging at his heard. “Judging by the intense concentration, she had most likely been at it without a break for hours without a single worry crossing her mind. If only she would do the same when trying to handle chaos magic,” he murmured the last part more to himself than Celestia. “Or when striving to call on other powers. Oh, well. But these things take time, I suppose. And it wasn’t like the Diamond Dogs were too much to worry about in the first place.”

“To be honest, when you mentioned ‘unexpected obligations’, I wondered if something might have happened—”

“To the Tree of Harmony?” Discord blew out his cheeks. “With the way TOH keeps me moving and alerted, nothing and no pony could come close to her without me being alerted of it. You worry too much, Princess Celestia.”

“No,” Celestia paused, choosing her words carefully. “I actually meant—”

“Oh, you meant—” Discord began to interrupt again, only to bite his tongue (with a noticeable crunching sound) at something he must have noticed on Celestia’s face.

“My dearest, and past student, Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia finished, leaving her chair and walking over to the stained-glass window that represented her former pupil’s ascension to a princess. It was a window she gazed upon almost as much as she did for the one that showed Starswirl the Bearded. “She has grown so much over the years, and I have gotten to guide and watch her at each step along the way.”

“It shows,” Discord muttered.

“Ever since Twilight became a princess, I can only look upon her with the greatest pride and happiness,” Celestia sighed. “But it does make me just a little sad to not be able to speak with or see her as much. It seems Twilight has developed past the point where I can or need to help her.”

“Believe me, Princess Celestia. Twilight still needs a lot of help.”

“She can make her own way now and is continuing to grow in a stronger individual,” Celestia persisted. “And in recent weeks, there have been numerous changes that might affect and ask more of Twilight than I ever have.” Here she turned to Discord. “I have been meaning to speak with you on the matter ever since Twilight began to investigate the Tree of Harmony, and brought you back into Harmony.”

“You could have invited me to the palace for a pleasant chat in that case, rather than have me patrol the darkest reaches of Equestria for potential threats, chase down any suspicious ponies, or to ensure nothing had escaped from Tartarus. Nothing has, by the way,” Discord reported at this point.

“Actually, that was because I received some information that we should be taking extra vigilance at this time,” Celestia explained, causing a scroll to appear. It was quite old, with a star-shaped seal on the ribbon that had held it together. Furthermore, there was a date along the top.

“From whom?”

“My old friend and mentor, Starswirl the Bearded. He was a very wise pony, and he left behind several scrolls containing advice for me to open at certain times.” Celestia opened the letter, showing the fine printed script to Discord—although he did not seem interested in the actual writing so much as the concept behind it.

“Starswirl the Bearded,” Discord murmured, growing thoughtful and serious—which, despite it all, took Celestia aback. “He told you to send me patrolling across Equestria?”

“As I’ve said, he wrote a warning for extra vigilance during this period, so I wanted to take extra measures. Luna and I are also doing our best to make sure nothing is amiss in Equestria right now.”

“Time capsule letters.” Discord tugged at his beard. Then he mused aloud, “Did Starswirl tell you about my ability to sense imbalances as well?”

“Yes,” Celestia answered, at length.

This fact made Discord stiffen up. He asked, quite quietly:

“Are there more of these scrolls?”

“There are.”

“Where?”

This sudden and strange interrogation made Celestia hesitate, and Discord studied her for a moment longer before his features brightened as if a wonderful idea had occurred to him. He snapped his fingers and said:

“Ah-ha! No need, Princess Celestia. I know exactly where they would be.”

“Discord, wait!” Celestia shouted.

But unfortunately, this was not enough to stop Discord or make him come back.

Celestia stood in befuddled silence for several moments after Discord had disappeared, blinking the bright flash that always accompanied his departures from her eyes before hurrying from the room and down the corridor. The glow of moonlight through the high-arched windows illuminated the palace grounds and casting a pale sheen across the extensive gardens and labyrinth. It was even possible to see the raised stone pedestal where the chaos spirit had once stood confined for more than 1,000 years. This evening, seeing the empty space seemed an omen for events set in motion that Celestia had few if any real preparations set in place to face—and now Discord was on his way to ravage even those.

Reconnecting with the Tree of Harmony had failed to make him any less prone to going wherever he pleased or doing as he wished for the most part, which Celestia found comforting despite everything. Being reformed by Fluttershy and assuming countless new responsibilities had apparently not taken away his fun-loving nature or carefree tendencies, which had never been a desirable part of the process. Yet he could have at least waited for a few minutes, and perhaps shared what valuable insight he had doubtless gained from the Tree of Harmony so they could have had a civil and extensive discussion on what such a happening meant for Equestria as a whole. Or, most importantly of all, for what Twilight might have to face in the near future.

He could have had a little more patience.

Then again, Discord had been forced to wait a very long time—as had Celestia, for more than one thing to happen.

At this point, Celestia passed two dark stallions who formed part of the night watch over the palace. They roamed the hallways with their horns set alight to scan the semi-darkness for any suspicious ponies. Judging from the way they calmly bowed and murmured, “All is well, Your Majesty” as Celestia went by, the most suspicious pony in the castle had eluded their notice. The most that worried them appeared to be the fact she was moving along at a much faster gait than usual. They even appeared on the point of asking whether or not they might need to escort her somewhere in particular. Yet a simple head bob and calm smile was enough to appease and send them back to their rounds.

They worked so hard for her.

Centuries ago, Celestia could never have imagined employing guards or being in her current position. In some ways, such responsibilities had been thrust upon her and Luna in a far more impromptu manner than they had for Twilight, who had studied under Celestia and been more prepared to step into a princess role, or perhaps even Discord, who had been part of the ancient magic in Equestria from the beginning and only needed a reminder of his place.

And that had come at the hooves of Starswirl the Bearded.

At last, Celestia came to the Starswirl the Bearded Wing in the Canterlot Archives. A locked gate protected the entrance from public access, yet for her a pony with her level of magic it was easy as turning a doorknob to gain admittance.

She entered, with some part of her half expecting to see the various scrolls and parchments in utter disarray about the room. Yet all appeared peaceful and in its rightful place, including the giant hourglass at the center. Grains of sand had dripped from the top half to the lower for ages and now reaching the end. That had been put in place by Starswirl himself as well, although he had never gotten around to explaining exactly what it was measuring.

That fact bothered Celestia a little now, as well, like so many other details had that evening.

Honestly, once Celestia had thought the hourglass might have been meant to count down the period of time before one particular event took place.

And while watching the sand continue to trickle through the glass, yet another memory drifted through her tired mind—back to when right after Luna had undergone her horrific transformation and Celestia had been forced to imprison her in the moon…

***

Celestia sat among the rubble, illuminated by the pale glow of the moon through the broken window high overhead, when Starswirl the Bearded at last creaked into the throne room. The Elements of Harmony lay scattered across the stone floor, like fragmented mementos of the tragedy that had just occurred.

Meanwhile, Celestia was not quite sure how she had gotten to the ground. She could have fallen once more to earth without feeling or noticing the impact—yet with the arrival of Starswirl, it was like some spell had shattered. Aches rippled through her body, causing Celestia to collapse and struggle into a half-raised position as she twisted to face her mentor.

Starswirl looked graver and solemner than he ever had been before.

And Celestia gasped out:

“Luna has turned into a terrible monster, Nightmare Moon, and I’ve had to send her to the moon. Please, Starswirl. What can we do?”

At this, Starswirl bowed his head:

“I am sorry, Celestia.”

The words echoed like a knell bell in the darkness.

“There must be a spell you can cast to change Luna back,” Celestia managed to reach her feet, though her legs threatened to buckle. Her voice was quiet and strange to her, all of a sudden, and pleading. “Some magic you have learned in all your years as a great wizard, or knowledge you have gained during your travels. Yes.” She was vaguely aware of hobbling forward, one painful step at a time towards Starswirl. “I could use the Elements of Harmony to release Luna from the moon, and then you could show me how to turn her back to normal. It was a just a horrible accident. A night fright.”

“No,” Starswirl said, and it was like a blow. “I cannot.”

“But—” One of Celestia’s legs gave way, and she fell. “You are the greatest wizard Equestria has ever known, and most likely in all the lands beyond. You are my mentor. You helped Luna and I to become princesses, and can travel through time. You can do anything!”

“You should know that even I cannot do anything,” Starswirl brushed Celestia’s mane back with a hoof, sounding quite tired. “But someday, I promise, your sister will come back.”

“When?” Celestia asked, lifting her gaze to Starswirl, who—in turn—was staring up Luna’s moon with the dark impression of a dark mare visible upon it. The old stallion had a faraway gleam in his eyes, as he usually did when about to make a prophecy.

“In 1,000 years, there will exist a magic in Equestria strong enough to dispel shadows and grant miracles with the Elements of Harmony—and able to channel them in a way none alive now can understand. When that time comes, the land and magic within it will thrive more than ever before, although there will awaken dangers that threaten to destroy everything. But you will find peace and happiness, Celestia. So keep your head up high, be strong, and have faith.”

***

“Faith,” Celestia murmured, staring at her reflection in the draining hourglass. Then she shook her head as if to shake off the remnants of the memory and headed along one of the aisles toward the far back of the archives. Starswirl had been right, of course. Her faithful student Twilight, and her friends, had become the bearers of the Elements of Harmony 1,000 years later and saved Luna. It had been a long wait, yet Celestia would have waited ten times that long if that had been what it took to see her sister again.

She touched a soft spot in the corner, where a section of the wall shifted to the side, leading down a narrow staircase into a room where scrolls lined the shelves on either side. Each one had a date for Celestia to open at the appropriate time, which had continued to provide her with valuable information and knowledge long after Starswirl was no longer with her.

But there was one pony missing who should have been there.

“Discord?” Celestia scanned the room.

“No need to fret, Princess Celestia,” Discord said from behind, causing Celestia to jump. He flew in through the doorway, smirking, and she had the distinct impression of having been tricked. “I’m right here.”

“You followed me down here,” Celestia stated.

“But of course.” Discord swirled about her in glee, apparently tickled that his plan had come off so well. “Only you knew the secret location of the scrolls. Or, at least, you used to be the only one who knew. Actually, I’m a little surprised at just how easy it was to gain that access. You should see the look on your face.” He caused a mirror to appear, reflecting Celestia’s startled glance.

Perhaps Celestia should have been angry. Yet Discord looked so goofy, and she had indeed been tricked so easily, that she found a smile tweaking her lips. Celestia even laughed, soft and briefly.

“Perhaps I could have handled the situation better, yes,” Celestia admitted. “I got a little distracted.”

“’A little’? You paused in front of that hourglass for almost 15 minutes. Now, I admit watching gains fall can have a certain appeal.” Here Discord crumbled into a heap of rice before popping up from among and sending them flying everywhere (including into Celestia’s mane). “But was it really that fascinating?”

“Well, there was more to it than that,” Celestia said.

“I should hope so,” Discord returned. “What kind of pony gets distracted that easi—ooh, scrolls!” He immediately turned his attention away from Celestia and flew over toward the scrolls tucked away for safe-keeping, with the obvious intent to begin grabbing the parchments off the shelves. With his lion paw, he plucked out a nice thick one. And he would have unrolled it right then, had Celestia not grabbed the scroll in her magic and tugged it away from him.

“Don’t,” The warning came out curter than intended but had the desired effect.

“Oh, come on, Princess Celestia,” Discord said, his attention still on the scroll. The white fluff on his tail frisked back and forth testily. “There could be no real harm in taking a look at one or two scrolls. From what I can tell, they have not even been enchanted.” Then he grabbed the suspended item by one end and shot Celestia a doleful, almost puppy-dog look. “Just one little peek?”

“Starswirl the Bearded requested that I only open each letter at the appropriate time, or in accordance with the dates placed on the scrolls,” Celestia explained. “I promised him that and have kept my word since then, and his letters have served me well.”

However, this information only appeared to stoke Discord’s curiosity.

“Hmm.” Discord tugged at his beard with his griffin claw. “It would be like skipping ahead in a story. How interesting.”

“You could say that.”

“That’s too boring.” Then he paused, and a particularly wide, curly, and mischievous grin spread across Discord’s face. “Well, here’s a solution. You’re the one who made that promise, so there should be nothing barring me from reading one. Then I can let you know if it was so disastrous to open.” He was looking at Celestia as if he thought this a very clever plan indeed and believed she might think so as well.

But Celestia was simply thunderstruck, and already adamant that it was a plan that wouldn’t succeed if she could help it.

“No,” Celestia said. “That’s an order.”

“You’re ordering me?”

“Yes—and I’m asking you, as a friend. Please, let go.”

They held each other’s look for a long while, though even then Celestia was not entirely certain Discord would agree.

But, at last, Discord grumbled low in his throat:

“All right. You win.”

“Thank you,” Celestia said, relieved.

Discord let go out of the scroll.

That was when the ribbon came free, and the parchment unfurled, right in Celestia’s hold.