“So am I immortal or not!?” shouted Twilight.

“That’s not something you need to know,” said Celestia calmly.

“No! I [i]demand[/i] to know! I didn’t plan on this! I’m not sure if I even want this! Just tell me exactly what I’ve turned into!”

Celestia’s eyes drifted down to the cold tea on the table. “Please don’t make me do this.”

“I—I need to know,” sputtered Twilight. “If it’s immortality, I can learn to accept that. If it’s death, I can accept that too. But I can’t accept not knowing.”

“Twilight,” said Celestia. “If you were to find out now, you would be locked into that decision.”

“What do you mean ‘locked’—don’t you know if I’m immortal or not?”

“No, Twilight. There’s a spell to find out, but the cost is too great.”

“What’s the spell?”

“Twilight—“

“I’m not asking you to cast it. I just want to know what the spell does.”

Celestia hesitated. “Like all time magic, the effects of this spell cannot be changed once it has been observed.”

Twilight’s ears perked up.

Celestia disappeared and reappeared back with a book, narrowing her eyes at Twilight. “You must never tell of the existence of this spell to anypony, do you understand that?”

She nodded.

“It’s a funeral spell.”

“A what!?”

“It projects you into the future so that you can attend your own funeral.”

Twilight tilted her head to the side.

“That seems rather… specific.”

“Indeed,” said Celestia. “As far as I’ve observed, it can only check somewhere around nineteen thousand years into the future.”

“How did you find that out?”

Celestia paused before answering, “when Luna cast it.”

Twilight stared. “What did she see?”

“Do you have any idea how personal of a question you are asking, Twilight?”

Twilight’s ears flattened.

“Twilight, please imagine your own funeral. Imagine everypony you hold dear gathering together to talk about you. What would your friends say? What would Spike say? Would they mourn that you had left too soon, or would they celebrate that you had led a full life? Would ponies be sad about your loss, or be happy you were finally gone? Stop and think about each and every achievement they would list that you accomplished. Consider the music, the flowers, the casket. Consider yourself… after you are gone.”

Twilight sat down on her haunches as her eyes glazed over in thought. She laid motionless for several moments. It was a brief respite compared to the shouting earlier.

“Attending your own funeral locks you inside of the life that led to that end, Twilight. What you see will come to pass, for better or for worse.”

Twilight stared out into space before returning back and asking: “Who else has cast this spell?”

“Besides a few hospice unicorns to help their dying patients, only Luna, Star Swirl, and I.”

Twilight’s eyes darted to hers.

“I didn’t see anything when I cast it, Twilight. It’s why I think the spell has some sort of limit of twenty thousand years or so.”

“Or…” said Twilight, her words stumbling out. “You will live longer than any other being that could possibly hold a funeral for you.”

“I regret casting it, Twilight,” Celestia frowned. “That’s not something I needed to know, or worry about.”

Celestia picked up the tea cup in front of her in her magic. “If Star Swirl had not have cast this spell…” said Celestia quietly, setting the tea down without drinking it. “I think he would have ascended and still been with us here today.”

“Is there any other way I can know if I’m immortal?”

“Twilight, isn’t [i]now[/i] enough? Isn’t it enough to know that you are alive [i]now[/i] and not have to worry about the future?”

Twilight sighed. “No… it isn’t. I want to know how much time I have left. If it’s eternity, I want to mentally prepare myself for it. If it’s tomorrow, then so be it. But… not knowing? I can’t plan for that.”

“Must you plan for everything, Twilight? Even your own life?”

“That’s the most important thing to plan.”

Celestia sighed. “But once you see it, you’re locked in.”

“I know time works a little recursively. I’ll plan based off what I’ve seen, and what I’ll do will affect what I’ve seen. I know it will work out somehow.”

Celestia frowned as she passed the spellbook to her.

Twilight’s horn began to glow.