First and Foremost
From Afar
By Taranasaurus
Life is a frail thing.
It is in no way short, in fact it is the longest thing you, or I, will ever do. It is hard, empty and painful. Even as I looked down into her small, curious eyes I knew what she would have to face, to overcome. The room had been well lit, orange candles glowing in the damp and sweaty atmosphere, as was the way with traditional births. I had been there, only as a figurehead. An example. A trophy.
When Twilight had found out about the filly, at first I had been sceptical. The last true bloodline descendant of the Alicorns? I had sooner hoped to create new planets in my sky, than to hear such news. But the new princess had sworn to me that there was no denying, Octavia Treble is, and always will be, my little sister. Well, great great great great great great great niece, but who’s counting?
Of course I had attended the birth, my own curiosity peaking with my royal duties. The mother and father had been proud, his chest puffed out and a gleam in his eyes, and a tired smile of acceptance playing across her lips. To have a princess attend the birth of your firstborn was beyond an honour, it was a gift.
The labour had been long, and the screams still floated around my mind. I knew not of the torment that woman could possibly be going through, but I could sympathize. And, when she was done, they handed the child to me, their eyes full of wonder and hope. As the mother uttered the name to me, I felt a coy smile stretch across my face.
“Octavia?” I gave the filly a gentle nuzzle, nestling her in my cocoon of magic. “I see great things in store for you little one.”
****
Rule number one of being a goddess, never change the lives of those that you ‘rule’.
So I didn’t interfere. I watched, and waited. Her life started like most others, with crying. Oh how she screamed and wept. And her dreams, horrible concoctions of darkness and terror. As meaningless as they were frightening. And yet, when she slept, she was silent, as if she were studying them, as I did her. She would toss and turn in her white cot in the cream room in the alabaster house, and I would watch in morbid fascination, as if nothing else in the world mattered.
Many a time I would have my sister step into the room and ask what I had been doing for the last several hours, and I would have to make up an excuse as to why I had not left my room for half the night. But truly, I could not stop watching. Her innocent acts and plays were like entertainment, as she slowly grew and learned. The day she first tried carrots is probably the most vivid memory I have of her, aside from more recent ones.
She climbed up into her high chair, because of course by this time she could walk, and banged her little hooves against the table, her cute smile drilling holes in her mother’s reserve. Eventually, her father returned home, and placed something on her table. She was perplexed at the orange shape in front of her, slowly lifting it with her hooves. She spun it around, her beady eyes scanning every inch from every angle. I felt myself drawn to the odd shape, as if discovering it for the first time as well. This connection we shared was... odd, to say the least.
After a few moments of intense study, she lifted the object up and held it in front of her mouth, before bringing it forward and chomping down with her jaw. The resounding crack made her freeze, and she pulled the half chewed carrot out from her mouth, her lips spread in a rounded ‘O’. Then, she tossed the carrot to the floor and glared at her bemused mother.
Watching something as odd as this was not uncommon for me, after all, I had lived for thousands of years. I, like my sister, had protégé’s, and I watched countless ponies grow up, live their lives, and die. But this was different. I didn’t just want her to succeed, I wanted her to live, love, and be loved. It was like she was me, and I wanted her to be as happy as she could possibly be.
She grew, just like any other mare, quite quickly. It seemed only minutes had passed since I had last watched, when really, years had gone by. I felt myself craving her life like a drug, and I could not remove thoughts of her from my mind. It was as if she were my own daughter, in the flesh, and I felt as if she was. She was all I had left, aside from Celestia, and I was damned if I was going to let her fade. I tried talking to Twilight, or Celestia about it, but both seemed too busy, or too wrapped up in their own lives, to notice my troubles. They listened, but they didn’t really listen, my words just floating in one ear and out the other.
I had not taken another pony under my wing for over two thousand years, and, while out of practice, this was not forced. I could not bear to lose someone so close to me, without myself eventually leaving to join them in whatever afterlife awaited.
But, Octavia was different.
She didn’t just intrigue me; she captured me in her life, and held me, locked in her embrace, so to speak. Wednesday the twenty fifth, fourth cycle, four and a half years after my return from banishment, and I could take it no longer. She had just turned three, and her curious young mind had already turned away from conventional schooling. The average pony lives for roughly eighty years, give or take ten in either direction. Octavia was musical, as her name would imply, yet her life was anything but. Her parents, both hard working doctors, had little time for her musical endeavours, and so, had eventually hired somepony to replace them during their absences.
After living for thousands of years, one picks up many a hobby, and yet a favourite of mine had always been the violin. I had approached my sister with the idea, and of course she had accepted. My ‘breaking in’ to modern day Equestria had not gone quite as well as my sister had hoped, and for some reason she saw this as me finally coming out of my shell. She had even set up a meeting with Octavia and her family, to convey any ideas and thoughts that they had towards their daughter’s education.
Octavia’s parents couldn’t have cared less.
Every word that I uttered from my mouth passed straight through them, their large egos acting like some form of a barrier between us. After setting up a time and a date, they had practically left both myself and Octavia alone in the room.
Our first meeting was... peculiar, to say the least.
“You’re really tall.”
Her first words towards me, and she already had me smiling. I can’t remember exactly what I had said to her next, but I remember the rest of our first day quite vividly. Somehow, our topic of conversation had veered quite rapidly from commenting on my size, to talking about how old I was, to talking about how smelly the boy’s in Octavia’s class at school were.
“Do you enjoy school?” I remember asking her this on our first day, not quite having told her what her parents and I had decided on prior.
“No, not really.” She had shrugged then, her hoof playing with her already long mane. “We don’t learn anything interesting, and nopony in the class is really very nice to me.” She had smiled then, and oh how my heart had melted. I could swear that she was doing it on purpose, as if she knew what my reaction would be.
“Well, what if I told you that you don’t have to go anymore?” Her jaw had dropped at this news, and she was at me in an instant, bombarding me with questions and demands. She was almost as eager as Twilight had been, at least according to Celestia. I had explained to her then, about what her parents had decided for her. I was to be her tutor, and, everyday, at exactly eleven AM, she would report to the castle, where we would study all manner of things. To say she was overjoyed would be an understatement. She was ecstatic, leaping around the room with endless energy, her mane bouncing with every leap.
Up until this point, I had never seen her so happy. All throughout her life, she had been mostly confused, or lonely, and never really bonded with her parents. I knew what this was like, having grown up most of my life alone, my sister too busy to pay any attention to me. I knew loneliness, and confusion, but most of all, I knew sadness. I knew what it was like to be ignored, pushed to the side, marginalized. So, in a way, Octavia and I were alike. Sure, she may have been three, and myself over six thousand, but there was a connection there, one greater than I could have ever guessed.
And so, we started meeting. It started off slow, with us mostly talking about our lives. She was young and curious, and I had many stories to tell. Who was I to refuse her? We talked about my life, how I had lived, what I had seen. This, eventually grew into an interest in history, and then, eventually, music. The first time I had shown Octavia my violin, she had been morbidly engrossed. Both with the sounds it made, and how it was played. I must have played to her for hundreds of hours during those first few years, completely exhausting my pool of musical pieces.
I started her off with the violin. It was obvious that she was a natural, and, while the violin was originally intended for Unicorns, she had picked it up almost instantly. After only a few months, she had begun to put on small concerts outside of my chambers for the guards, who stood, all day, outside the palace. But I could tell she wasn’t happy with it. Both she and I felt something was missing. And so, one day, a Friday, to be precise, she had just turned eight, and I had a surprise waiting for her.
****
“Princess Luna?” the rapping on the door stopped as Octavia poked her head around the corner of the door, peering into the darkness of my room. I felt it hard to stifle my small giggle of suspense, hiding behind the curtains, where the rest of the room’s candles had been stashed. I’d been working on this surprise for months, and no candles were going to stop me from getting as much as I could from it.
“Princess, are you in here?” she called again, stepping into the room. I reached out with my magic, and slammed the door shut, sending the darkness crashing down. I could hear her yelp, even from across the room, and then her frantic scrambles to unlock the door. After a few moments of her struggle in the darkness, she stopped, letting out a smooth sigh, and turned to face the room. I could see her eyes dart across the expanse, as if waiting for something.
“Princess... this isn’t funny.”
Oh my, how she was wrong. She stepped forward, and I slowly lifted the lighting in the centre of the room, the lone candle’s flame springing up. She gasped, before stepping forward, and up to the dimly lit area. I could see any traces of fear dissipated in the aura of the glow, and her expression become one of utter wonder. The stand I had placed the candle on glowed softly, as if calling out to the mare. I stepped from my hiding place, still within the shadows, and made my way behind her, my hoofsteps falling on deaf ears.
“What is...” she broke off, reaching out with a hoof and stroking the soft leather. She trailed down the stitching, every bump and niche absorbed by her touch, until she paused around the buckle. Her hoof lingered, her breath coming out in short, sharp bursts.
“Do you want to know?”
She spins, her eyes wide and her mouth agape. “P-princess! I-“
“Do you want to?”
She stops, her mind stuttering as she contemplates. She looks to the case, her eyes filled with wonder, as her hoof comes back up. I’ve seen the look before, it’s like some sort of Déjà Vu. She seems perplexed, as if in a state of limbo. She doesn’t just want to know, she needs to know. But, at the same time, she’s undecided, as if she’s afraid of what she could find. She turns away, her eyes suddenly hard.
“Yes.”
The silence between us felt heavy, as if the whole world waited on the next few seconds. “Then...” I paused, not because it was needed, but for dramatic effect. “Let there be light!”
In that instant, my magic flared, and the wide curtain’s on the far end of the room spread, bathing the room in light. Octavia flinched, lifting a hoof to cover her eyes. I needed no protection, as my eyes were old, and strong. As the spots in her eyes cleared, she began to look back down to the object she had been studying, eliciting another gasp. She reached out her hoof again, no longer wondrous, but determined. She flicked the lock with ease, before letting out the breath she had been holding. Slowly, she pulled the seal apart, letting out a wistful sigh as she swung open the case.
“Wow...” She stopped, literally speechless. She reached out again, her hoof trembling as she brought it into contact with the dark wood. I let out a sigh as I studied her, her every movement, her every tremble. Slowly, she pulled out the object, her touch as soft as a kitten’s. “Princess... I...” Her hoof slid along the taught strings, eliciting a low grumble from within the construct. A smile spread across her face, and she truned up to look at me, her eyes doing the talking.
“Yes... all yours.”
She turns back, and lifts the bow from within the wrapped strings. “How... how do I hold it?” I stepped forward then, lifting the bow, and holding her hooves in mine. I positioned the bow against the strings, and lifted our left hooves up to the top of the fret board. “And... play.”
I stood back, and smiled at her. She gave me a small, hopeful smile, and pulled the bow. A low note rumbled through the room, and my smile grew, as her look of wonder returned. She slid her hoof down, and the note began to grow, both in pitch and volume. She grinned, a giddy giggle escaping her lips. I couldn’t help but join in, lifting my violin from its place on the wall.
We played. It was obvious that this was her calling, her destiny. She played as if she had played all her life, every in and out a natural instinct to her. After what felt like hours, the music ceased, and we stood, panting, in the centre of the room.
“Princess... that was amazing!” she turned to me, the bow dropping from her hoof. “I can’t thank you eno-“
“Hush child,” I stopped her with a hoof, pointing. “Look.” She spun, her eyes wide, and glanced at her flank.
“Oh,” she froze, slowly turning to me. “My,” her eyes were wide, and her whole body shook. “Gosh!” she jumped up, a smile erupting on her face. She bounded round, excited squeals escaping from her mouth. “My Cutie Mark!”
Then, she pulled me into a hug, her little head nestling into the crook of my neck. “Thank you princess.”
****
And so, a new chapter began in her life. We switched from Violin, an instrument written in Treble Clef, to the Cello, which was primarily written in Bass Clef. Our meetings changed time, so now she could attend a music school, courtesy of the royal sisters. Now, we met during the night, after her classes, to both study, and learn. But, at the same time, our relationship grew. We no longer greeted each other as simple acquaintances, we were friends, buddies, almost... sisters.
We shared every detail of our lives, what was happening in classes, which boys were the cutest, why Mr. Clef was such a meanie. At age fourteen, Octavia had already grown to exceed my expectations, with everyday a new piece to read or write in front of us. Most of what we did together, however, was dominated by duets. She loved the low bass of the Cello, but, at the same time, she knew that in order to make her instrument as beautiful as she could, she needed the violin, to add that range. No matter what I said, she was dead set on focusing on what we could do together.
So we moved on to writing. I taught her not just theory, but practical usage as well. It may have taken two months, but by the end, we had our own duet, aptly titled ‘the Teacher and the Student’. The writing had mostly been me, but every note, melody and rhythm was from her. She truly was more than a natural. I had the Canterlot Orchestra perform it for us live, in my chambers. Whilst it had been a little costly, I decided that it was what was needed in order to give my student the best possible education. Besides, Celestia had pulled Star Swirl the Bearded forward in time just for her own student’s learning, this was just as fair.
She had been transfixed with the sounds, stalking around the separate parts and reading over their shoulders. I stood at the front, conducting with my wings whilst I studied her study them. She stepped to the back, before bringing out her own Cello and stepping towards the front. The orchestra didn’t stop, but I saw them lose focus, as they followed her with their eyes. She stood next to me, a nervous smile playing on her lips. She breathed in, then out, and lifted the bow to the strings.
I lowered my wings slightly, signifying the band to lower their volume. The room seemed to pause in anticipation, as the bass rumbled throughout the room. And then, as if by magic, a melody faded in from above our heads, as if sent from the heavens themselves. She spun and weaved her music, her long mane swirling around her as she played. I felt the tension in my body fade, and my shoulders relaxed. Around me I could feel lights start to swirl, my eyes dancing as she did.
And then, all too suddenly, she dropped off. Silence rained down around the group as the rest of us sat, dumbfounded looks on our faces. She turned to face me, a light blush on her cheeks. “So, uh, how was it?”
I don’t think I could have answered her question. I still don’t think I can.
****
She progressed l, it felt as if years passed in days. She grew from a quiet, reserved player, to one of Equestria’s finest performers. By the age of eighteen, she had already been offered scholarship’s by every music university in Equestria. I, of course, was overjoyed. Never before had I felt such giddiness, and it showed. Octavia would continually stop me during our lectures, and demand to know why I was giggling behind my hooves.
I had only one option left. I extended the opportunity of a lifetime to her, one that was offered only to few, and these were far between. I offered her a scholarship to my night classes at the National Music Academy. She, of course, instantly accepted me, all of her worries and doubts thrown out the window. We both knew that was what she had wanted, what she had always wanted. But it came with a cost.
Most of the night classes ran throughout the night, which limited the amount of time that I could spend with my pupil. And so, it came to a new lifestyle. We would meet, every weekend, and converse. Not only did this give us more to talk about, but it also gave Octavia more time to explore the little things in life. I still remember the first time she stepped into my room, one week after our change.
Her face had been one of utter dismay. She had come up to me, and thrown me into a tight hug. In her hoof, a folded piece of paper floated. After a few moments of hugging, we split, and she explained to me, through a teary veil, just why she was crying. She lifted the paper up to me, and, her lips trembling, muttered five words.
“I only got ninety eight.”
She hoofed at her first test score, which was ranked first in the class. And then she shied away from me, suddenly afraid.
“Please don’t be mad.”
Now, my reaction was not one I was particularly proud of, nor did it display the proper manners of a princess. After all, I was expected to be regal, to be above the ‘common ponies’. It was my duty to Equestria to give them something to strive towards, to hope to be, and yet, my reaction was the same as any other.
I burst out laughing.
I fell sideways, tears in my eyes, as my sides slowly cracked in half. Octavia hadn’t exactly taken kindly to my reaction, choosing to ‘humph’ and pout in my general direction. After calming down, I explained to her, both how proud I was, and how silly her reaction had been. Even after all this time, she still acted how she had on our first day of meeting.
After this hiccup, the rest of our meeting went perfectly. Octavia loved her new University, even if her classes were a long walk from the dorms. The only problem she seemed to have, at least to me, was her roommate, a DJ pony named Vinyl Scratch. The mare was apparently an ‘inert distraction’ who should ‘keep her filthy wiring and non-musical ‘talent’ away’. This was another source of entertainment for me, and I deemed to my new task to watch both how these two interacted, and how their relationship formed. Of course, I had no idea how this would turn out, but at the time, it seemed like a better choice than sitting around all day eating cake, as attractive as that may sound.
So, I watched. Again. At first, Octavia ignored Vinyl altogether, choosing to wake up early and arrive late, just to miss the lively DJ. But, as time progressed, the two began to ‘bond’, by way of mutual dislike. At first, they would ignore each other completely, opting for silence in replace of arguments. But I could tell, from casual observation alone, that the two had something beneath their rocky exteriors. Octavia eventually grew fond of the mare, and it became harder and harder for her to focus during our gatherings.
I said nothing, of course, I was not one to intrude on another’s personal life. Octavia continued to ace her education, spending her free time either with Vinyl, or with me. I suppose I resented Vinyl. Octavia had a certain admiration for the mare that I knew I would never be able to achieve from her. And, behind her cool exterior, I could tell that she had some more... reserved feelings from the mare.
And then, came the week of our downfall.
****
For the first time since I had known her, Octavia was late. We had agreed to meet in the gardens, for a spot of tea, and to discuss her upcoming exams. After nearly half an hour of waiting, I had begun to lose hope of even seeing her that day. As I stood to leave, she burst through the double doors, her cheeks flushed and a look of regret on her face.
“Princess!” she cried, pushing her way past the guards near the entrance. She slid to a stop in front of me, panting slightly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She seemed to tremble, hanging her head low as she awaited my word.
“Octavia, please!” I smiled, lifting her head with a hoof. “You don’t have to be sorry.”
She stopped at that, giving me an odd look. “I... I don’t?”
“Of course not.” I gave her another warm smile, gesturing with a hoof. “I didn’t exactly have much else to do today, so sitting outside with some tea was the least of concerns.” I pulled out her chair, as my butler poured out another cup of tea. She sat down graciously, thanking the butler, before turning to me.
“So... How has your day been?” She had asked, and I had laughed at that too, causing her to blush further.
“Straight to pleasantries, aren’t you?” I stood, making my way to her, and placed a hoof on her shoulder. “But something troubles you, does it not?” After a few moments, she nodded, slowly, before sinking down in to her chair. “Well?”
She looked up at me, hesitation evident on her face. “W-well, you remember that mare, I told you about her last w-week.” She stopped there, looking in my eyes, as if searching for something. She looked back down after her search, her head hanging. “Well... she-she and I, we... uh...” Her voice faded out here, as if faltering.
“Pardon? What was that last bit?”
“We... uh, we...” again, she dropped out of hearing, as if ashamed, or scared of her next few words.
“We... well, we kissed.” She dropped her head, lifting her hooves up as if to protect herself. She seemed to tremble, and it looked as if this had been bothering her for days.
“And?”
She wasn’t expecting that. Glancing up, her eyes seemed shocked, betraying the rest of her expression. “What?”
I flashed her another smile, which I’ve been told are ‘dazzling. “How was it?”
“A little unexpected, but othe- no, wait,” she shook her head at me, holding a hoof. “You’re not mad?” She cocked her head, gauging my expression.
“Mad? Why would I be?”
“I don’t know,” She slammed her hooves in frustration. “Doesn’t it break tradition or something?”
I laughed, my voice echoing around the silent gardens. “No, of course not. Why, before my banishment, it was more than expected for a mare to marry another!” I clapped her on the back, and she leant forward, a smile breaking out on her face.
“Oh, princess, you have no idea how happy that makes me!” she threw me into an embrace, squeezing against my sides. I returned the hug almost instantly, pulling tightly. This was what I needed, what I craved. Her attention, her love.
“You still haven’t told me what it was like.”
****
And so, another chapter of her life came to be. Octavia and Vinyl’s relationship... grew, to say the least. The pair were nearly inseparable, as they attended the same classes in university, and shared a dormitory room together. But this placed a restriction on Octavia. She spent less time with me, and more with her newfound love.
At first, this infuriated me. I hated Vinyl, for splitting me from the one I deemed my student. But, eventually, I grew to understand. This was her life, and who was I to attempt to control it? So, I returned to watching. Our visits all but faded out, until our only correspondence, was by letter. Years passed like this, in a form of limbo between us. Octavia and Vinyl got married, and their lives kicked into full swing. Octavia was accepted into the Royal Canterlot Orchestra, as the lead cellist and director.
Vinyl’s own business as a professional DJ kicked in, and she started to play clubs all over Canterlot. And yet, throughout their busy lives, they still had time for each other. But, this harmony came at a cost.
One that not even I could see coming.
****
Dear Lulu
The lengths between our letters grows longer and longer, does it not? It’s as if we’re drifting apart with time alone. I miss the old days. My carefree foal lifestyle, where I could roam the world without fear or bias. And yet, I don’t want them. It’s like, we’re trapped in a world between worlds, a sort of limbo, with no real connection to reality.
Well, it’s time for a check.
As you know, I have been married for nearly four years, and my life could not be happier. But, recently, I have not been myself. Chronic illness, headaches, even coughing blood. Vinyl and I thought nothing of it, at least, not at the beginning. But as time went on, and my symptoms showed no sign of fading, we grew worried. I went to see my father, Canterlot’s world renowned doctor, in the hopes of finding some medication.
But my illness is much worse. There is no medication that can cure this, no magic stone to remove my fault. At the age of twenty seven, Princess Luna, I have been diagnosed with severe heart trauma. I have an estimated four years to live.
So, I need to know. I mean, living with the knowledge of when and how you’re going to die is like living forever, right? Immortality, except in reverse. How do I live, Luna? What do I do?
I need your help now, more than I ever have before.
Please, write soon.
Your ever loving student,
Octavia
I admit, I was upset. Which is expected, right? Knowing when someone you love is going to die is heart breaking, right? So why couldn’t I cry?
Why did no tears flow?
I felt ashamed, distraught. Locking myself away, I vowed that I would never leave her side, never stop watching, until the day she... the day she...
Died.
That was it, wasn’t it? I wasn’t upset because I was scared for myself. I couldn’t cry because I was selfish. But, I'm allowed to be selfish. Everypony is entitled to a little selfishness now and then.
Well, I was long overdue.
Octavia and Vinyl spent every waking moment together. All of their collected money went not to treatment, but on living the life of queens. They visited every country they could. Truly, they did what anypony would do when offered a life of luxury. Octavia was scared, but she hid it from her wife. I was scared, but I hid it from myself. Our letters became more frequent, and soon, I was writing almost every minute I could, learning every little bit of information I could.
But, eventually, time catches up to all of us. I was called out to Manehatten on an emergency from Vinyl Scratch. My Scrying spell had been down while I slept, so of course this happened when it did.
Octavia was ill. She was more than ill. She was on her deathbed.
I have seen many a pony pass, millions of lives flashing past my eyes. And yet, this is the one I remember the most. Because it was forced. She had no real chance to live, no chance to love and experience life as it should be. I felt angry, at her, at me, at the world.
And so, our final conversation together came too early.
****
A multitude of machines surrounded her, beeping ominously, as she sat, suspended in the center. The whitewashed walls seemed to daunt the occupants of the room, as if they were some kind of statement of cleanliness and life. Her coat had lost most of its colour, and her eyes were weak, and yet still she managed a smile. I couldn’t help but return it, although my veil of tears didn’t really give it a convincing send off.
Silence seemed to be more comfortable between us as I sat down, and we both seemed to just relish within one another. But, silence can only last for so long, before it is broken once more.
“I-I...” her voice cracked as she lifted her head to look at me, a small smile still on her lips.
I shushed her there, fresh tears already on my cheeks. “No, Octavia, it’s my turn to talk.” I pulled my chair closer, so that I could hold her hoof. “Octavia, I have watched you since you were born. An unremarkable filly in a totally ordinary scene. When Twilight had first come to me with the prospect, I never believed... But, standing here, thinking about it now, I can tell that there could have been no other way.”
“Truly, Octavia, what I say next is probably the most important thing that I have said to you since the beginning.” I sighed there, tactically pausing my train of thought to search for the best way to explain this. “You and I aren’t so different, are we? Well, aside from the whole immortal goddess thing, of course.”
“Of... course.”
“We share our loves, and our hates, and we have spent a long time together. And for that, I am thankful, but Octavia, you need to know why I did this. Why I chose you.” I squeezed her hoof with mine, staring into her eyes. “Octavia, you are the last born direct relation to the pure royal bloodline. In truth, you are a duchess. Somewhere out there in the vastness of Equestria, there’s a castle with your name on it. I know... I know, I should have told you earlier. But, what you had could never compare to what could have been.”
“And yet, I withheld my ideas and beliefs about your life in the hopes that it would run its course, and become the beautiful train wreck that every life is. But I fear that had I spoken up, had I told you, perhaps... perhaps it coul-“
“N...no.” She moved her hoof to lay it against my forehoof, her touch brittle yet kind. “Princess- Lulu, I know y-you think that... that it could be different.” Her gaze became hard. “But don’t you... don’t you dare change it. I wouldn’t have it... any other way.” She fell back against her pillow, breathing heavily, and sighed.
The tide of emotions bashed themselves against my mental cage, threatening to spill. But I bit back, and pulled her into a hug.
“I... I think I’m ready.” She sighed, pulling against me. “Princess, I want to go. I’ve ha... had enough of this. Please.” Her last word seemed forced, and she squeezed against my hoof with such force that I swear I could hear bones bending. I didn’t want this, but it felt right. I nodded, my mind screaming aginst my body as I slowly stood and turned away from the bed. I stepped out into the hallway, and walked out of the hospital, and out of Canterlot.
I ended up in my room again. Her cello had been delivered to the castle. And, as I pulled it up again for one last performance, I gazed at the stars.
And I played my new piece.
Octavia’s Requiem
****
...and so Twilight Sparkle, I write you this only to make sure that you understand what consequences you will have to face, and what trials will confront you.
So, my final question is this:
Do you truly want this? To take another under your wing, only to watch them grow old and die under your gaze?
Is this the life you want?
Because, that is what you sign up for with this decision.
Decide, Twilight.
-Princess Luna