//------------------------------//
// ...and the Shadows Will Always Fall Behind You 
// Story: Harmony's End 
// by Vanity 
//------------------------------//

There was silence across the throne room as the two ponies absorbed the words that Hitch had read aloud. A twin, identical shiver ran down both of their spines as an unpleasant sensation tightened both of their stomachs in shock.

Sunny was the first to recover, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper.

"Why?"

As she spoke, the tears began to form in the corners of her eyes, brimming at her eyelids and rolling down her cheeks freely. The Elements of Harmony, those inviolable, infallible, incorruptible heroes of her youth, had sat at this very table, had penned those very letters she had just written. As a foal, by the soft glow of her nightlight, she had read of their exploits, their heroic adventures and daring feats, saving Equestria and Friendship all in a day's work.

How could they have been the ponies responsible for the loss of Harmony? How could Rainbow Dash, the brave Pegasai who never abandoned her friends, have single-hoofedly torn Equestria in two? How could Pinkie Pie, the Element of Laughter, have failed to bring the ponies together again? How could Twilight Sparkle, the wise, even-hoofed and kind-hearted Alicorn she'd all but worshipped as a foal, have let this happen?

She'd dreamt up a fantastic tale in her mind, a saga of otherworldly invaders, of danger and strife, of sacrifice and loss, yet the letters before them, printed in black and white, proved that what had destroyed Equestria hadn't been one big monster too many. It had been... some rocks.

The idea was repugnant, repulsive. It caused her brain to reel in disbelief, that her foalhood heroes had been so ordinary, so mundane and so short-sighted to have allowed all that they had stood for disintegrate into ash over something so trivial as the rights to some magical stones. Shock quickly evaporated to anger. How could she have been so blind as to follow these ponies?

"Sunny?"

Hitch slowly approached her and laid a hoof on her shoulder. Instinctively, she jerked away from him and jumped to her hooves.

"Sunny, I... I know this isn't easy for you..."

"Really!?" Sunny surprised even herself by shouting. "You think? Congratulations, Hitch! Nothing gets past you, does it?"

"I... I didn't mean it like that. You know I didn't. What I mean is, it's okay to be upset. I mean, those ponies, you looked up to them so much."

"Yeah, so what? More fool me, I guess!"

"Sunny, you looked up to them because you thought they were ponies who cared about Equestria. Because you thought they were ponies who showed everypony how they could live in harmony and peace. And they did! Right up until her last moments, Princess Twilight gave everything to preserve Equestria as well as she could!"

"But..." Sunny hesitated. "But - but Rainbow Dash, she..."

"Rainbow Dash probably thought she was doing the right thing too. She thought she was holding those Unicorns to account, making sure they didn't get away with the wrongs they did. Sunny, was she..." He coughed quietly. "Was she any different to Sprout?"

"To Sprout?" Sunny blanched. "I guess... I mean, I guess not. But - "

"Right." Hitch breathed out. "Sunny, Sprout is an idiot. He's lazy, and a coward, and a thousand other things. But he's not evil. He can even be a good kid... y'know, sometimes. He thought he was protecting Maretime Bay from danger. Just like Rainbow Dash."

"So... so what? Rainbow and Sprout, they're the same? Is that what you're saying? Is that meant to make me feel better?"

"I didn't say that. But they're both ponies. They're not perfect, they make mistakes. But does that mean you should ignore the good and only see the bad in them?"

Sunny ground her teeth together, then hung her head.

"I guess not. I just... somehow, I wish we'd never found this place."

"Really?" Hitch sounded surprised. "I would have thought you'd see the brighter side to this."

"What brighter side?"

"Weren't you paying attention to Princess Twilight's letter?" He smirked, then tapped the letter before him. "The only way the magic within can be recovered, the only way magic can be restored to Equestria, is for the three tribes to set apart their differences, to embrace friendship and harmony once more. That's you, Sunny. The Restoration of Harmony she was talking about? You did that."

Sunny's eyes widened as she glanced from the parchment to Hitch, who flashed her a victorious grin in response.

"Where she failed, you succeeded, Sunny. You carried the torch. Just like she hoped somepony would - ugh!"

He was cut off by Sunny impacting into him with enough force to make him teeter backwards on his hooves as she enveloped him in a crushing hug, squealing with delight as his eyes bulged in shock. She remained wrapped around him for a few seconds longer before finally releasing him and stepping backwards, a shade of crimson now forming on her cheeks.

"I... thanks, Hitch. Really. I needed to hear that."

"No... no problem." Hitch waved a hoof, a slight wheeze in his voice. "Just... gimmie a heads up, next time?"

Sunny smirked in response and gave him a gentle shove. Hitch returned the gesture before his gaze drifted downwards to the collection of letters at their hooves.

"What should we do with these?"

Sunny took a deep breath. "Bring them back to Equestria. Everypony should read these letters - and not just for the historical value. Everypony should know what bought us down once - so that it never happens again."

"Some ponies won't like what's in them." Hitch pointed out. "The same way you didn't."

"Then they don't have to like it. It's the truth. Nothing can change that." She smiled sadly. "I'd love to be able to remember the Elements of Harmony as perfect, the same way they were when I was a foal, but that's just not how it is. But now, I know who they really were. They were ponies, just like me. And that's more meaningful than any fairy story I ever read."

The door to the throne room closed with a quiet thud behind the two ponies as they left. Once more, the room fell silent, subject to the solitude and tranquillity it had entertained for centuries prior.