In the fledgling years of the Crystal Empire, the first Crystal Princess defends her realm against unyielding darkness.
In its earliest years, the Crystal Empire was no stranger to threats. Chief among these was the umbrum, a race of ancient shadow-beasts that stalked the arctic wastes. Seemingly born of pure malice, they took great pleasure in tormenting the crystal ponies—destroying their homes and breaking their spirits for fun. And as the Empire grew in both size and prominence, these attacks only became more abundant.
Princess Amore did everything in her power to keep the umbrum at bay. And by using her magic in combination with the Crystal Heart, she was largely successful. But against such overwhelming and unrelenting darkness, even she was pushed to her limits. And the umbrum were growing more cunning by the day. Eventually, something had to give.
Now faced with the darkest days the Crystal Empire has yet seen, Princess Amore will be put to the ultimate test. Against a hatred as old as the wind, can the love of a single pony really make a difference?
The undulating shadowy mass birthed a crystal pony. Its body skidded across the ancient ice, its armor scraping and grinding until it stopped barely three hooves from the abyss. It trembled. It twitched. It bled. The lights of its eyes shone only faintly.
“Perfect.”
Rabia became corporeal. The sky howled at her presence, unleashing a blistering gale that caressed her frigid form. She cast her gaze across the moiling shadows. Thousands of eyes stared back—pinpricks of ghostly light like so many barren stars. She locked her stare on one pair in particular. “Ira,” she said, “come forth.”
A reddish head—equine in shape only—rose from the mass. The face was akin to a corpse, emaciated and decayed. Her dead eyes betrayed nothing. She leapt from the group, flared her gossamer wings, and fluttered down on the opposite side of the pony. “Yes, Mother,” she said, bowing low.
Drifting forward, Rabia beheld the pony’s face. It sniffled, its tears lost in the melt wetting its cheeks. Rabia pinned its skull to the glacier with an audible crack. The pony roared and flailed weakly. Glaring deep into the pony’s eyes, Rabia said, “Take it.”
“Mother,” Ira said, “we don’t know what will happen. Perhaps a lesser umbrum than I should—”
“Do it!” Rabia screeched.
Without further hesitation, Ira approached. Her skin flaked and scattered like dry paper, whirling around in her own ethereal breeze. Bulging and morphing, her mane and tail coalesced into one. Her body twisted. Her wings broke. The very image of Ira mutated into nothing more than a wisp of darkness. Only her eyes remained, and they shone a haunting white as they loomed over the helpless creature.
Quick as lightning, Ira latched onto the pony’s face. Her form split and crammed itself into the pony’s nostrils, ears, mouth, and eyes, tearing the surrounding flesh to make room. The pony gurgled, which rose into a strangled scream. Its limbs thrashed and its wounds sprayed blood, staining the snow. The surrounding crowd moaned in delight. Rabia watched closely as Ira’s essence wriggled beneath the pony’s face. Her grin widened as the last traces of darkness vanished from sight.
The pony went limp. Rabia lifted her hoof away and stepped back to the edge of the abyss. For several long seconds, nothing happened. Gritting her teeth, Rabia shouted, “Rise!”
On command, the pony’s eyes flickered open. Crimson mist clouded them. Ira’s essence seeped from the pony’s wounds like thin plumes of smoke. The pony pushed to its hooves, turned to Rabia, and smiled.
Rabia approached and held the pony’s chin. “How do you feel?”
“Strong,” said the scratchy voice. “Very strong. Although its love is agonizing. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stand that.”
“Just long enough, I’m sure.” Rabia turned to the roiling darkness. “Remember this day, my children! At last, we have found our true power. With this weapon, nothing will stand in our way—least of all that vile empire. We will reclaim the tundra for our own, as our ancestors long intended. The umbrum shall rise again!” Thousands of shrill voices cheered. Umbral heads rose and sank in the shadowy sea by the dozen, whinnying their victory chorus.
With a ghastly sucking sound, Ira pulled free from the pony, materializing at Rabia’s side. The pony collapsed, its chest heaving. Rabia snapped her head sideways. “Hmm, now what to do with you?”
Coughing up a dark red splatter, the pony wheezed. In a hoarse whisper it said, “Let me go, please… My f-family needs me.”
Rabia lowered her head until the streams of shadow bleeding off her muzzle licked the pony’s flesh. She felt the warmth of its hope and love even now. “And if I allow you to leave,” she said, “do you promise not to speak of anything you saw here?”
“Y-yes!” the pony said. “I won’t tell a soul. Not the captain. Not the princess. Nopony.”
“Good.” Rabia’s eyes flashed. She crumbled into her own wispy essence and tore her way through the pony’s face. Her spirit entwined with its in a macabre dance. Darkness pulsed like blood, permeating the creature’s entire being. What little hope and love remained in its heart flickered—a candle to Rabia’s blizzard.
Seeing through its eyes, Rabia rose and trotted to the abyss. She beamed down into oblivion. “But just in case, let’s make sure you never get the chance.” In one fluid motion, she threw herself over the edge and pulled out of the pony’s form. It unleashed a soul-splitting wail as it vanished into the chasm. Its cry echoed into nothing, quickly lost in the wind.
The nephrite beacon had gone dull. Sunlight made it so Amore could hardly see the glimmer of magic in the gem's core, even from where she hovered at the spire's peak. She frowned. Casting her gaze down, she nodded to the border guard stationed on the nearby platform. He saluted and shielded his eyes, as per protocol.
Focusing on the gem, Amore closed her eyes. With practiced ease, she drew on the warmth in her heart and allowed it to fill her being. The feeling grew until she became lost in it, as though submerged in a thermal spring. She recalled fond memories: breakfast with her parents; lighting the Crystal Heart for the first time; her coronation. She inhaled a deep breath, held it, and exhaled.
The feeling flooded into her horn, heating it comfortably. She opened her eyes, watching the magic dance through the air like a cloud of fireflies and coalesce around the nephrite. The light flowed through the gem’s facets, condensing in its core. The beacon shone like a second sun. It hummed with power, and a ripple of warmth cascaded outward. The light dimmed—no longer painful to behold, but bright and soothing: a candle against the night.
Ignoring her heavy eyelids and stiff limbs, Amore gave the guard a gentle smile before fluttering back to earth. She stumbled upon landing but steadied herself quickly. “Any others?” She glanced around. About half of the Empire was visible from the edge of the foothills, and every spire she saw along the border shone with the same golden light.
The captain of her royal guard, Citrine Star, marked their checklist and grinned. “Nope. That’s the last beacon rejuvenated. Border patrol is tight and on schedule. Barring another daylight attack, we’re good.”
“Wonderful.” Amore looked skyward. The sun had just crossed its zenith. “And there’s still plenty of time to make my rounds.” Turning to the captain, she nodded slowly and said, “Thank you for your diligence, Citrine. Be sure to take a break once you get the chance.”
Citrine grimaced—an expression they wore well and often. “If I can be blunt, ma’am, I don’t think I’m the one who needs a break. Can’t you skip the rounds for once? Push ’em back or something?”
“Out of the question. It’s important to keep morale high.” Amore gazed out across the Empire. Most of the rooftops sparkled in the sunlight like the surface of a calm sea, but a few on the outer edges lacked such luster. Some were scorched black. Others were caved in. Still others were missing entirely. “Now more than ever.”
“Nopony’s morale will be high if you’re too tired to protect us.” Citrine marched closer. “With the Empire expanding, umbrum attacks are only getting worse. We need you at full strength in case of another breach, especially through the night. As captain of your Crystal Sentinels, I highly recommend you get some rest.”
“Recommendation acknowledged and refused, Captain,” Amore replied, still lingering on the massacred buildings.
“As a friend, then.”
That caught Amore off-guard. She looked to Citrine. The captain had removed their helmet, allowing their mane to tumble down to their withers. They frowned and said, “They’ve been running you ragged these past few weeks, Amore. The umbrum, I mean. You’ve been keeping up so far, because of course you have, but how long until you crash? I’m worried about you.”
Amore’s mouth curved in a tender smile. She trotted over and placed a hoof on Citrine’s shoulder. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine. Truly. I may be tired physically, but I’m at my strongest when the ponies I love are happy.” She lowered to rest on her forelegs, meeting Citrine’s height. “Especially those closest to me.” Her hoof traced upwards, caressing the pony’s cheek.
Citrine leaned into the touch and sighed. “I’ll try.” They smiled and met Amore’s gaze. “Just promise me you’ll take a breather at some point. We don’t want a repeat of last Winter’s Ball.”
Despite it all, Amore blushed. “To be fair, that flowerbed was unusually comfortable.” They shared a light chuckle—a rarity these days. Amore wrapped her hoof around the back of Citrine’s head and pulled them into a quick embrace. “Stay safe.”
“Back at ya,” Citrine said, returning the hug.
Amore pulled back and stood up. She levitated Citrine’s helmet over to them, and they promptly donned it, becoming Captain once more. They gave a loose salute and cantered off in the direction of the northeastern outpost.
Sighing through her nostrils, Amore wheeled around to face the Empire. She ignored her pleading muscles and flared her wings again. With a galloping start, she took off at a low glide across the fields, a cool zephyr at her back.
She’d had somewhere in mind, but Amore decided to touch down a few blocks away—in the midst of the Amaranth Commons. Ponies tended to congregate there, and for good reason.
A suggestion of a dirt path wove through the little meadow, guiding the way between three crystalline ponds. The namesake perennials grew in dense clusters at the water’s edge. They boasted thousands of tiny blossoms, their colour not dissimilar to Amore’s own raspberry mane. Their fragrance flowed like air, bathing the park in springtime—fresh and everlasting. A great chestnut tree tied it all together, dwarfing the valley in which it grew. Droopy white flowers would pop from its branches, were it in season.
For her citizens, the park was a haven. A place where life thrived and beauty reigned even in the darkest hours. It brought Amore that same peace, but in a different way. She drew comfort not from the cultivars, but from the company.
Everypony turned her way as she landed. They didn’t flock to her, but their expressions brightened, and several of them waved. Amore waved back to as many as she could and started on her walk.
There wasn’t a face here she didn’t recognize, and she could name each one. Nopony quite understood how she kept such a perfect memory of her citizens and all their respective lives in such personal detail. Not even Amore knew the specifics of how she managed it, but her reason for doing so was plain. Everyone deserved to feel important. Most especially the ones who had made her their leader. They were her family, after all.
It was with this mind that she took to the streets of the Crystal Empire, exchanging pleasantries and idle conversations with all she passed. Usually these strolls allowed her concerns to fade for a while. Her heart would flutter when she heard her ponies’ eager voices as they recounted their little joys, smiling all the while. Real smiles, too. Not ceramic masks of politeness but the genuine grins of longtime friends.
Of course, recent days had been anything but usual.
She’d seen it more with each passing day, and today was no exception. The smiles remained, but they stopped short of their eyes. Something else lay there. Their pupils would jerk, or shrink, or glaze over at something a thousand yards distant. They changed when they saw Amore, but not in the usual way. They’d look to her like a foal whose mother had come to spook the monsters in the closet. It made her heart twist.
But it wouldn’t do to dwell on such things. Her ponies needed her not to.
Some hours later, she finished her meander in front of a small house: a simple one-story affair of red crystal. The only new detail since her last visit was the row of berry bushes growing beneath the window. Amore smiled. She trotted up and knocked thrice on the door.
“Just a moment there!” called a singsong voice. Silence followed, broken quickly by a heavy clatter from within. Soon after, the door swung open to a middle-aged mare with her mane tied back in a loose bun. Her bloodshot eyes widened with her smile. “Oh, Princess Amore! What a lovely surprise.”
Amore nodded. “Good day, Primrose. How have you been?”
“Oh, about as good as can be, everything considered.” She punctuated it with a half-chuckle. “What brings you by?”
“I just wanted to catch up with you and Alabaster. See how you’re settling in, if there’s anything I can do to make the transition easier. Things of that nature.”
Primrose’s smile faltered. “Oh, I’m afraid Al’s out searching the wreckage again today. But I wouldn’t say no to a chat! Could use a break anyhow.” She stepped sideways and gestured within. “Come on in! No need to stay out on the stoop like hoodlums.”
“Thank you.” Amore ducked under the doorframe and stepped inside.
The living room was cozy and inviting, although it smelled of new furniture. Several boxes—one of which had toppled—were piled in a corner. The fallen one had spilled its contents onto the carpet. Amore recognized a few picture frames bearing scorch marks, but she quickly averted her gaze.
“Make yourself at home, now,” Primrose said. She quickly gathered up the box’s contents and shoved the lot of it to the side. She trotted through an archway into the kitchen. “I’ll warm us up some nectar real quick. Be out in a jiffy!”
“That’s not necessary,” Amore said, seating herself on the nearby loveseat. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Nonsense. It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for us!”
Amore went to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. She settled for, “Thank you. The hospitality is welcome.” She became lost staring at the boxes in the corner.
A sweet aroma soon pulled Amore from her thoughts. Primrose trotted back into the room, balancing a tray holding two mugs and a metal pitcher on her back. “Allow me,” Amore said. Her magic alit around the tray and floated it down to the coffee table.
“Oh, you’re too kind.” Primrose proceeded to pour a dark ruby liquid from the pitcher, filling each mug about halfway. She grabbed one in her hoof and took her own seat in the rocking chair across the table. “Don’t let it get cold, now!”
Amore levitated the mug to her lips, steam enveloping her muzzle. She took a sip. Hints of blackcurrant and honey laced her tongue, ending with tart blackberry. “Mm, lovely. Is this your own blend?”
“Oh, not mine, no. This one’s all my hubby’s. Tends the berries himself, don’tcha know.” Primrose giggled as she drank her own beverage, a soft light in her eyes.
“How is Alabaster?”
The light dimmed. “Truth be told, he’s not coping so well. The move’s been hard on both of us, obviously, but I don’t think he wants to get used to it. Keeps going back to the old place. Says he’s looking for his granddad’s old tools, but I think it’s more than that.”
Amore’s chest clenched. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help him along?”
Primrose shook her head. “Not unless you can magically fix up our old house and wipe our memories of that night.” She laughed lightly and let the statement hang.
“I wish I could,” Amore said. “But while I can’t remedy the past, rest assured your futures are very safe.”
“Mm-hmm,” Primrose said, taking a long sip. Her gaze wouldn’t meet Amore’s.
The princess frowned. “Have I said something wrong?”
Eyes widening, Primrose quickly put down her mug, spilling a little on the wood. “Oh, not at all! You’ve done wonders, putting us up like this. And so close to the Crystal Heart, too! It feels safe as can be.” Her smile was true, but her eyes wobbled and strained.
Amore set the nectar down, her mouth going flat. “Please be honest with me. If there’s anything else I can do to put you at ease, I want to know.”
“Really, Princess, we’re fine.” Primrose’s gaze broke away, falling to the floor. “Skies above, I wouldn’t wanna burden you anyhow! You already have so much to take care of, ’specially with all the—” She swallowed, and her mane lost some of its sheen. “With recent happenings.” She brought her mug to her lips again.
“I assure you, it’s a burden I’m happy to bear.” Amore turned her gaze out the window, where a group of colts played in the street.
“Oh, and we’re so grateful for that,” Primrose said, the bounce in her voice gone. “I don’t know how you manage! I mean, there’s only one of you, and so many of… of them…” The silence pulled Amore’s attention back. Primrose’s focus was lost on something in her drink. She squeezed her eyes and shook her head. She looked up, a brittle grin holding her expression together. “Frankly, I just feel helpless most days. I only wish there was something we could do to help you.”
A sad smile crossed Amore’s face. She was suddenly and keenly aware of the weight of her own body. “You already do plenty, just by being here.”
Something about those words clearly struck Primrose, as tears sprung loose. “I… um…” She wiped her cheeks dry with a hoof. “Sorry, I’m being silly.”
“It’s not silly; it’s natural. You’ve been through so much.” Amore rose from her seat and trotted around the table. She brushed a wing across Primrose’s withers. “Come. Let’s take a walk.”
Sniffling, Primrose gazed up at Amore with a confused frown. “A walk? Where to, if I might ask?”
“Wherever we end up,” Amore said, gently guiding Primrose out of the chair. “What matters is that it won’t be here. I think you need that right now.”
Primrose’s frown gave way to a heavy smile. She set her mug on the tray, composed herself, and the two mares wordlessly made their way outside.
Of course, Amore eventually steered their journey to the one place where she knew darkness could not tread.
An aura of serenity welcomed them as they entered the plaza beneath the palace. To call the feeling familiar would be to ignore the complexity of the relic exuding it. By its very nature, the Crystal Heart’s power shifted over time—as any mood did. Its light waxed and waned with the weals and woes of every creature that shared in its protection. Nopony could grow used to it more than anypony could feel the full spectrum of emotions all at once. The sheer depth even awed Amore herself at times.
It was true that she had created the Crystal Heart, but she'd only provided the catalyst: the seed from which the tree of an Empire had grown, responding and adapting to climates and seasons that changed on a whim. Amore inspired an environment rich in hope and love, and so it became easy to view the Heart exclusively through that rosy lens; and Amore hoped nopony would ever see it through anything else. The hundreds of tiny tragedies which the relic magnified could needle her heart alone. They were muted nothings compared to the symphonic strength she gained from the Heart otherwise, but they were there—reminders of her duty, if nothing else.
She and Primrose drew nearer the dais, the thrum of magic rising in intensity. “I should’ve known we’d wind up here,” Primrose said, grinning up at the Heart.
“Have I become so predictable?” Amore said.
“Oh, yes. But that’s hardly a bad thing.” Primrose rested on her haunches. Her eyes glazed over as she basked in the light.
Amore giggled. She let her gaze wander. They were far from the only ponies in the plaza. A few palace guards patrolled casually near the edges, and citizens from around the Empire were scattered throughout. Most lay on the ground in groups, laughing and chattering away. Some were alone, either muzzle-deep in a good book or just enjoying the day for its own merits. A few eyes drifted her way, especially as she approached the center, but no one interrupted.
She turned her focus to the Crystal Heart. Her reflection stared back—only it wasn’t exactly hers. It certainly bore her likeness, but the eyes were different. Inexplicable age lay behind them, like they had already seen a thousand lifetimes.
“Why do you think I brought you here, Primrose?” Amore asked.
Primrose was silent for a few moments, like she hadn’t quite heard the question. “To help get my mind off things, I reckon.”
“In a way, yes.” The Heart’s aura ebbed infinitesimally. “How does the Crystal Heart make you feel?”
“Oh, it’s just wonderful.” Primrose’s smile broadened in ecstasy. “Even after all that’s happened, it puts me at ease. Makes me feel like nothing else could go wrong.”
Amore’s reflection in the Heart shifted, showing Primrose instead. “Why?”
The bliss in Primrose’s features dampened. “Why? Well, I suppose that’s just what the Crystal Heart does. Besides protecting us, of course. I never thought about it much past that.”
“You know where the Heart gets its power from, right?”
“Sure do!” Her beaming face returned. “It’s the happiness of everypony in the empire all mixed together like gumbo.”
Primrose quirked an eyebrow, frowning. “Oh, well, I thought that’s all there was to it, Princess.”
“It comes from you, Primrose.”
No response came, as though Primrose had expected more. She blinked. “Me?”
Amore willed herself to look away from the Heart, meeting Primrose’s real eyes. “Yes, you.” She looked around the plaza—most other ponies were already looking her way. “And him. And him. And her. And him,” she said, pointing to several ponies in turn before gesturing broadly to the plaza. “Each of you, individually.
“The Crystal Heart on its own commands nothing. But through each of you laughing, loving, living…” Amore closed her eyes. Her heart called out, and the Heart answered. Countless coloured lights winked to life in her mind’s eye, dancing together in a breathing starscape. Every light was familiar. She could name each one. They did nothing; they simply were. And that was enough.
A pulse of sparkling light radiated outward, engulfing the plaza. Sensual pleasure ignited Amore’s every nerve like a lover’s embrace. Her muscles relaxed, and her body felt like water. Her wings extended on impulse, giddy with energy. For that brief moment, Amore could have held the entire Empire on her shoulders.
And too soon, it was gone. Exhaustion crashed through her once more, but still she smiled. She opened her eyes to everypony’s slackjaw faces. Their coats dazzled in the afterglow, raw and beautiful like uncut diamonds. Some of them were crying. They all looked to one another, lost in a shared reverie.
Amore landed—she’d barely registered lifting off the ground. She looked to Primrose, who was staring into the Crystal Heart. Amore touched her chin and guided the mare’s gaze to her own. “As I said, you already do plenty to help me. Keep that in mind.” She moved her hoof to Primrose’s back and pulled her up in a gentle hug. Soon after, Primrose returned it. And for that moment, nothing else mattered.
A pang struck Amore’s heart. Her mind snapped to attention, and she quickly noticed the presence of a new guard near the plaza’s border. Sable Rook—she had been stationed at the northwestern outpost. She spoke with one of the palace guards, her eyes occasionally twitching Amore’s way.
Ice gripped her heart. She put on a smile and pulled out of the embrace. “I hope this has been helpful, Primrose,” she said.
“More than you know, Princess,” Primrose said, not bothering to wipe her tears away.
“Feel free to stay as long as you need to. For now, I'm afraid I must tend to other matters.”
Blinking rapidly, Primrose said, “Oh, gosh, of course you do! I wouldn’t want to hog all your time. You go on, Princess. You’ve already made my day.”
Allowing herself some final warmth, Amore said, “I’m so happy to hear that, Primrose. Be well.” She nodded and trotted past the mare. Her trot devolved into a cold march as she approached the guards. Back to reality.
In a flash of amber, Princess Amore and Sable Rook appeared at the northernmost outpost. Amore’s skull throbbed from the exertion, but she didn’t care. She grit her teeth and looked about.
The beacon itself was untouched. No signs of a conflict in the immediate area, either. Amore furrowed her brow. One of the border guards stationed here, Basalt, stood beside Citrine Star. Both ponies had turned her way, eyes stark. Another guard, Asphalt, sat facing the distant tundra. His coat was dull and lifeless. His ears pressed flat.
Cobalt, the third guard stationed here, was nowhere to be seen. Amore frowned and cantered forward.
Citrine shifted a glare on Sable Rook. “I sent you for backup, not the princess herself!”
“Sorry, Captain,” Sable said, “but I thought she should know.”
Citrine went to say something else, but Amore cut them off. “Where is Cobalt?” she asked, her voice a sharp edge. She looked to Basalt. His face was ghostly; his eyes locked in a silent scream. From this close, she saw that his coat was matted and damp. He stared back at her—or through her. She couldn’t tell which.
Scowling, Citrine looked past the outpost, where the fields tapered off into an endless wasteland. “From what I can gather,” they said flatly, “a pack of umbrum passed themselves off as Equestrian refugees. He believed it. Tried to go help them.”
“We told him not to,” Basalt said in an eggshell voice. “We told him. We tried to stop him. But… he wouldn’t listen. And…” He trembled and squeezed his eyes shut. Citrine put a hoof to his shoulder.
“They took him,” Asphalt muttered, still looking away. “He’s gone.”
Amore’s mouth went dry. “Gone?”
“Kidnapped,” Citrine spat, as though the word itself were at fault. They shook their head. “It’s not a tactic the umbrum have used before. I don’t understand why they would start now.”
Amore’s eyes snapped to the tundra. Wind-blasted snowbanks rolled out as far as she could see—which wasn’t far, as precious little sunlight could penetrate the ancient storm. A wall of blizzard and dark fog obscured the rest, swirling in the gale like a wildfire—minus the warmth and light. The clouds above churned and roared. In a word, it was oblivion.
And one of her ponies was trapped out there. One of her family. Her heart screamed at her to take off into the wilderness right then and there. He couldn’t be far. He would have put up a fight. But he needed help. He needed her. She could still find him. But she had to go now. She could—
She stopped. Each of the ponies around her wore a different expression, but they were all broken. With tempered willpower, she dampened the inferno in her soul. She inhaled a shaky breath, allowed it to fill her, and exhaled smoothly. Time was of the essence, but she had to do this right.
“It doesn’t matter why,” she said. “It only matters what we do now.” An angry spark shot up through her horn, and a beam of pink light struck the beacon overhead. Its color shifted from gold to dull red. Two similar flares shot from the beacon itself, flying east and west towards the nearest outposts.
Amore turned her gaze on the mare beside her. “Thank you for alerting me, Sable. Return to your post, and be safe.” The guard gave a sharp salute and galloped west.
Beckoning Citrine aside, the princess’s eyes went dewy as she approached Basalt. She draped a wing over him and guided him to where Asphalt sat. She extended her other wing and folded both ponies into a huddle. They met her eyes. “I know you have both just been through something dreadful, and I am so sorry to put this on you. I wish we had more time. But I need you to stay strong right now. There’s a good chance that this was a diversion—something to break our spirits before another assault.” She wrapped a hoof around them both, pulling them even closer. “I will bring him back. That much I promise. Until then, I need you both on high alert while I’m gone. I pray that it won’t be necessary, but I need you ready, just in case. Can you do that?”
Basalt swallowed. His eyes steeled over and he said, “Of course, Princess.”
Asphalt’s gaze broke. “I should’ve been faster,” he said, his voice quivering like dry branches in the wind. “I should’ve stopped him when I had the chance. I’m so sorry.”
“Do not put this on yourself, Asphalt,” Amore said, nudging his chin up. “You did nothing wrong. If you are to blame anypony, blame me. I should’ve more strongly enforced the notion not to trust any outsiders.” Her jaw clenched. “But it’s too late for that now. You are strong and capable. I wouldn’t have stationed you here if you weren’t. I need you to believe in your strength. I know it isn’t easy. But I believe you can do this.” She offered a wan smile. “I’m sure Cobalt does, too. Can you be strong for him?”
Light colour had returned to Asphalt’s coat and mane. He said nothing but gave a firm nod.
Amore squeezed both guards tight before releasing them. They trotted over to the outpost, Basalt with a hoof on Asphalt’s shoulder.
“Amore,” Citrine said, their mouth a harsh line. “When you said ‘while I’m gone,’ you didn’t mean—”
“Citrine,” Amore said, frowning, “nopony else can help him. You know that.”
Citrine countered Amore’s frown with a dark grimace. “I know. It’s suicide for anypony else. But you can’t go. Not only are you beat, but if another assault happens, another breach might, too. If you’re M.I.A., the Empire doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Then what am I to do?!” Amore shouted. Citrine flinched, their eyes more than a little wide. Reining herself, Amore straightened her back and said, “Do I leave him to die? How could I call myself a leader if I abandoned one of my ponies—one of my friends—when they needed me most?” She slumped to the ground. Her tiara felt cold and unfamiliar. “What am I to do?”
A few times, Citrine went to say something. Yet each time, their mouth worked in silence. A long sigh passed their lips. “You’re our leader because we trust you. To keep us safe. And to make the hard decisions.” They approached and touched a hoof to Amore’s shoulder. “Not every question has a right answer.
“I know what I’d choose, but I’m not a princess.” They took a few steps back and saluted. “Whatever you choose, I’ll stand by it.”
Amore looked Citrine over. Their words were taut, their stance rigid, but their eyes sagged. The face of a parent whose child hadn’t grown up to be what they’d hoped. She looked to the outpost. The two ponies within had just witnessed their friend being dragged to Tartarus, and still they held their posts. All in her name. She cast her gaze to the Empire. Everypony in every building slept soundly at night, knowing she’d be there for them. Forever and always.
She imagined any of them—all of them—caught in an umbrum’s cold clutch. Alone and afraid, crying for help that might never come. Her heart twinged, and the image crystallized.
Standing, she fixed Citrine with a level stare. “Captain,” she said, “I need you to remain at this outpost. Help these two with their duties… until I return.” Citrine’s mouth tightened further, and it nearly brought Amore to tears. She threw a hug around them. “And I will return. I promise.”
There was a long pause. “Yes, ma’am,” came the quiet reply. They returned the embrace with one trembling hoof.
Drawing away, Amore said nothing more. She met Citrine’s gaze one last time and turned her back to the Empire. No time for second thoughts, she launched into the vast unknown.
Even the light of an alicorn’s magic shone timidly against the maelstrom of the arctic wastes. It hadn’t been so dark in ages past, but the emergence of the umbrum had warped the clouds from ruthless stormbringers into immortal harbingers of gloom. Their presence bore down on Amore like an avalanche as the Empire’s light vanished behind her.
That was to say nothing of the blizzard itself. Howling winds buffeted her every move and sent ice shards tearing across her coat and feathers. Snow hardly had time to gather on the ground before the gale ripped it away and carried it back into the chaos. Flight would have been impossible, even for Amore, were it not for the crucible of magic in her bosom. It manifested as a glossy membrane around her body, blocking the worst of the wrath.
The shield drained more energy than she would have liked, but it was necessary. Her glide wobbled and her mind begged for rest. All of it was secondary to her mission. Her vision refocused.
The landscape revealed nothing. Any trace the umbrum’s passage had left had probably been swept away as quickly as it had appeared. She turned her gaze skyward, hoping to spot the telltale black mist that typically served as an omen during an invasion. But if such a thing existed, it was invisible in the dark clouds.
She sent out the occasional pulse of magic, hoping to strike something unseen. Yet while each blast made her head ache, they produced nothing but melted snow.
The minutes passed too quickly. Sweat pooled on her brow, and not solely from the toll on her body. She changed direction at random. She peeled her eyes for anything at all. She fired magic in more frequent and erratic bursts. All in vain. The black world around her would not yield.
She spotted a rock and landed beside it. Immediately her legs buckled, and she keeled into the stone. Her chest heaved, burning with each raspy breath. Her eyes stung under the never-ending torrent of snowflakes. Tears froze as they rolled free, clumping with the ice in her coat. The world went blurry. Her mind fought for anything to hold onto.
Cobalt had a family. Amore knew them well. His wife was a seamstress—Crystal Lace. She had made Amore a flannel scarf for her birthday. They had children, too. A colt—Gallic. He’d earned his cutie mark two months ago. It was a royal guard’s helmet. And their daughter—Berry Splash. A newborn. Weeks old. The Crystalling had been immaculate. Cobalt deserved to see her grow up.
Amore gripped these thoughts for dear life. She closed her eyes and pushed the blizzard out of her mind. It was only her and these ponies. Ponies she loved and swore to protect. Ponies who needed her now more than ever. The cadence of her heart slowed. She called out in silent prayer.
Distantly, something answered.
A glob of clustered lights appeared in her mind. They were far but bright. Warm. Every colour of the rainbow. A few of them shone more fiercely than others.
Another light winked alive. It was a lonely blue mote. It was familiar, and it was fading. Amore latched onto it. It pulled her northeast.
Her eyes flashed open. Without hesitation, she pushed off the rock and launched to the northeast, barreling through the sky with redoubled vigor. Nothing about this direction was apparently different, but it didn’t matter. She had faith.
Soon enough, the earth began to slope upwards. Amore’s heart beat faster as she followed the incline, climbing closer to the clouds. Raw ice jutted out in rough patches as the ridge of the glacier rose higher. And somewhere not far ahead, barely a whisper through the roaring wind, Amore heard moans. The same bone-chilling moans that haunted her every nightmare. Her magic shone brighter.
Ahead, the dark fog condensed into an opaque mass. Roiling shadow-stuff stacked high enough to mingle with the clouds. Hundreds of coldlight eyes blinked to life as Amore’s hornglow burned the edge of the umbrum pack.
Instinct kicked in. Amore pulled on her heartstrings and unleashed a wave of amber light, cleaving through the umbrum like flame through ice. Their primal shrieks blared above the wind as they scattered. She carved a hole in the darkness and dove in headlong.
The world went black as pitch. Amore’s light—blinding a moment ago—now struggled and waned in the spiteful dark. Her magic was strong, but the umbrum were many. Tendrils lashed at her, coiling around her limbs and wings. Spears of hopeful energy sliced them cleanly, but two more latched on for every one she cut.
Dozens of dead eyes alit around her. They grafted onto cadaverous heads that grew from the shadows. Alien whispers filled her ears and ate at her mind. Their eyes shone a pallid white, and the tendrils restraining her tightened as they snaked along her body. They bulged and bloated, cutting gashes in her flesh with every struggle. A cold, ichorous sensation spread to her bones as the darkness slowly consumed her.
Amore clenched her teeth. She pooled all the energy left in her body and found more still beyond that. Unbridled radiance erupted from her horn, forcing every umbrum to scurry away, wailing loud enough to wake the dead. A golden sphere enclosed her—a barrier darkness could not breach. It moved with her as she blasted forward like lightning splitting the sky. Her vision tunneled and reddened. Each second felt like an hour, and she winced with every strike against her shell.
Finally, the fog breathed open and released her. More umbrum whinnied from below, but her focus was dead ahead.
Cobalt stood on the cusp of the glacier—but that was all she saw of him before a wisp of darkness obscured him. The smoke coalesced into a corporeal umbrum. A tall, lanky monster of sickly green skin, grinning into the abyss.
Amore released her barrier and struck the beast’s back with an amber ray. It sent the umbrum careening through the air with a howl. Amore wasted no time watching where it went as she flew beyond the cliff’s edge into the yawning chasm.
A scream echoed to her from somewhere deep. Without thinking, Amore flared her magic and teleported several hundred hooves forward. The rocky ground was suddenly rushing at her. She pulled out of her dive with a force that threatened to snap her spine. She wheeled around in midair, scanned the darkness, and barely made out Cobalt’s plummeting form.
She bolted in his direction, willing her wings to bear this final push. Once she was close, she weaved an arcane net around him and mentally heaved it. His fall decelerated rapidly, dragging him to an unceremonious stop, held aloft in Amore’s magic. She lowered him the remaining distance to the ground, landed nearby, and collapsed.
The world rang around her. Her eyes wanted to adjust, but her hornglow had petered out. She tried to move a hoof, a wing, anything—every part of her refused. All she could do was breathe: hot inhales; hoarse exhales. Each one was fire in her breast. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. It was all she could hear in the shelter of the gorge. The sound nearly lulled her to sleep.
“Well, now isn’t this something.”
The crackling voice pulled her attention up. A pair of burning, luminous eyes pierced the dark. Amore managed to produce a frail speck of light at the tip of her horn.
A gangly, olive-skinned umbrum floated above her. Patches of its body were scorched away, rendering its frame obscenely skeletal. Its wings had burned to nothing. It held itself aloft with a miasma of shadows that obscured its hooves
It recoiled and hissed at Amore’s light. Then it chuckled—a gravelly, gurgling sound. “I never would have dreamed that the Great Crystal Princess herself would grace our little corner of the wasteland. I’m so honoured.” The umbrum slammed to the earth, standing directly over her.
Amore flinched. She fixed the beast with a glare, but she quickly remembered herself. Craning her neck, she spotted Cobalt a short distance away, just on the cusp of her light: unconscious or dead, she didn’t know. She dragged herself in his direction all the same.
The umbrum followed. “Really, if I’d known you would be foolish enough to abandon your kingdom for a single, measly pony, I would have planned this better!” It snorted a puff of smoke in the princess’s face.
Amore coughed but didn’t stray. She winced at the sharp pebbles digging into her coat and carried on. She honed her focus. She needed to get Cobalt home. Nothing else mattered.
“But of course a saccharine whore like you would be blinded by emotion. Willing to risk everything you hold dear for one meaningless life.” The umbrum’s face pressed close to Amore’s. “Was it worth it?”
She thought of Cobalt’s family. Imagined seeing their relieved faces when he arrived home. Or the closure they would have from at least being able to send him off.
“And look at you now. Broken. Powerless. Alone. Couldn’t even save the one you risked everything for. And now you’re at our mercy.” A vast chorus of moans and whispers closed in from higher up.
She thought of Citrine Star and Primrose and everypony in the Empire. Every face she had sworn to protect. Every promise she would break if she stopped now.
“It will take some time for us to recover enough for another attack, but with you out of the way?” The umbrum’s grin split its face in half. “Nothing will stop us. Your home is ours for the reaping. Just as you reaped ours.”
She thought of her own parents. How proud they would have been of what she’d built. How much they’d believed in her. How disappointed they would have been if it ended like this.
“Of course, even if you hadn’t removed yourself from the equation, our plan was already too far along. It was sealed from the moment that oaf fell for our trap.” Dark appendages manifested from everywhere, inching closer.
She reached Cobalt. Pulling him into a maternal embrace, she thought lastly of the Crystal Heart. The connection that she didn’t fully grasp but nevertheless cherished. Her duty to help the relic protect everyone. Her reliance on it to be her guide in the darkest hours. She called to it in a silent plea, for that was all she could do.
“Face it,” the umbrum spat. “You have failed!” The horde of shadow-beasts descended on her.
But they were too late.
An intense blue flash detonated around her. It rang through the abyss, suffocating all noise in a blissful choir. She saw not what became of the umbrum. All of her attention was on holding her friend close and allowing the Crystal Heart’s warmth to envelop them like a fresh blanket. The ringing in her ears intensified, rising to a deafening pitch. For an eternal moment, she couldn’t tell whether she was alive or dead.
Her entire body loosened, and exhaustion punched through her a thousandfold. The light swallowed her whole, and she fell asleep in its cradle.
When she awoke, everything hurt. There was no comparison. No metaphor could make sense of it. She simply hurt—body, mind, and soul. Even opening her eyes was beyond her. She lay there for untold time and just let herself agonize, only vaguely aware of her own timid breaths.
Somewhere in her soupy thoughts, she knew that she ought to get up. So much had happened in such a short time, and she surely had questions to both ask and answer. Even still, her mind wouldn’t allow her anything. Part of it denied her out of necessity; another part plain didn’t want to.
Sleep found her again—she thought so, anyway. It was hard to know the difference. No dreams came. No nightmares. Yet time passed in the nebulous way only possible under night’s spell. Each stint afforded her another sliver of energy, all of which she put into willing herself to action. No rest for the wicked.
A cold breeze tickled her—finally something external. Princess Amore’s eyes opened, and it took a moment to understand what she saw.
Mooncast shadows distorted the room, hiding most detail. This was not a sinister darkness, though. These shadows were familiar. Ones she had seen countless times, usually accompanied by a far-off din or a twinge in her heart. Her regalia was piled up on a little table nearby, glittering as if newly shined. A blanket wrapped her where she lay, which she now recognized as a bed—a cozy fourposter, minus the traditional veil.
The wind rolled through again, drawing her attention to the window. Silver light streamed in, and she could make out the starry sky beyond. If she stood at that window, she could see the Empire at large.
She shuffled to the edge of the bed. Each motion was rusty and hard-fought, but her body protested less than she’d expected. The pain felt less like daggers and more like shackles.
All of that changed once her hooves touched the floor. Her own weight sliced down her legs and buckled her knees. She yelped and stumbled sideways. Her wings went to steady her, but they barely unfolded halfway before screaming. The nearby wall caught her, and she unceremoniously slid to the ground.
Somepony snorted behind her. “Wah?” It was followed near instantly by, “Princess!”
The voice sank and lifted her heart in equal measures. She glanced to her side where Citrine Star already stood. Amore tried to push herself up, but Citrine held a hoof to her flank. “Don’t move. You still need rest. I’ll get you back into bed.” They reached under her and began lifting.
“The worst of it has passed,” Amore said, now vividly aware of the desert in her mouth and throat. She swallowed, which stung and helped little. “I’ll be fine.” Wincing, she rose to standing, doing her best to only lean on Citrine lightly.
“Don’t be stupid.” Citrine nudged her towards the bed. Their voice was low and smoky. “You were basically dead. Even for you, three days isn’t long enough to shake that.”
That sparked Amore’s mind. “Three—?” She jerked to the window, propping herself up on the sill.
What first drew her attention were the rolling fields that surrounded the Crystal Empire—or the lack thereof. All that remained of them was a grassy strip maybe fifty hooves thin, at which distance the tundra strangled everything beyond. Yet even as her blood ran cold, the feeling was quickly eclipsed as her gaze fell to the Empire itself.
She knew not what sight she had expected, but this hadn’t been it.
The buildings were untouched, their rooftops twinkling as stars. Candlelight wavered in every window, lanterns on every stoop, flickering like a thousand sleepy fireflies. Their glows pooled, casting the town in makeshift twilight. Despite the late hour, many ponies still wandered the streets and gathered in parks. Their features were silhouetted away, causing crowds to blend together in unique shapes. She saw no purpose in their movements—they simply walked.
A quiet song rose from somewhere far below, beyond where she could see. Innumerable voices hummed together in a melancholic chorus, speaking no words yet saying volumes. Amore nearly crumpled once she recognized it. It was a dirge rendition, but she could not mistake their nation’s first hymn: the Crystal Kingdom Anthem.
“What is this?” she breathed.
With a heavy sigh, Citrine joined Amore at the window. “When the Crystal Heart spat you out, everypony freaked. Obviously. Since then, its magic has been fading. And the protection around the Empire with it. Saw it firsthoof from the outpost.”
Amore’s eyes widened. “The border guards…”
“Evacuated,” Citrine said matter-of-factly. “Everypony’s safe. Guards and castle staff’ve been running their tails off trying to keep spirits high to power the Heart, though. I’ve barely slept, keeping everypony moving.”
Flattening her ears, Amore said, “And the umbrum?” Her eyes widened as her memory finally caught up. She glanced to Citrine. “Where’s Cobalt?”
Their eyes downcast and their mouth ironclad, Citrine said, “Redhoof’s got him in the infirmary. He’ll recover—physically, anyway. As for the umbrum…” They stared into the distance. “No attacks. No sightings. Nothing. Whatever you did out there seems to have kept them at bay.”
Amore followed their gaze. Tenebrous clouds crowded the arctic skies, blotting all light. “For now.”
Her frown etched itself deeper. All of her ponies were safe and sound, including Cobalt. The Crystal Empire itself still stood—if weakened. And the umbrum had likely suffered a grievous wound that would keep them away for some time. Despite it all, Amore couldn’t smile. Somehow this still felt like a loss. She bowed her head. “I am so sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Citrine growled. Amore looked over and saw the sheen in their eyes just as they squeezed them shut. “Whatever. You’re caught up. The rest can wait.” They pulled back from the window and tugged at Amore’s hoof, guiding her inside. “Just get back to bed. You look like Tartarus.”
Even as Citrine pulled her inside, Amore listened to the dour notes of her empire’s song. Each one echoed in her mind and broke her heart. She squared her jaw and veered towards the door. “I’ll rest later. I need to address them.”
A sharp pain in her hindquarters stopped her dead. She looked over her shoulder to where Citrine had bitten her tail. They spat it out and shot her a glare that could've slain a cockatrice. “Amore, no. What you need is more time to recover. They can wait.”
“Clearly not,” Amore said, gesturing outside. “This will only get worse the longer I put it off. I can sleep later. Right now, I need to fix this.”
“I’ll fix it.” Citrine stepped up beside Amore. “The citizens will be happy to hear that you’re awake and recovering well. That’ll smooth things over fine—you don’t need to be there for that. Let me handle this. I’m your second-in-command for a reason.”
Amore’s features softened. “You are,” she said, tenderly wrapping a wing around the captain and leaning in for a nuzzle. Their body was so rigid. “And you’ve done wonderfully. I’m sorry to have shouldered you with such a heavy burden. It never should have fallen to you. But because of my recklessness, it did. I only wish I’d heeded your advice earlier.”
Citrine exhaled a hot, trembling breath. “Then heed it now. Please, Amore. I can’t bear to see you like this.”
Amore squeezed them closer. “I have to answer for my actions, Citrine. I’m sorry.” Pulling out of the embrace, she offered a wan smile. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
Citrine’s eyes rippled. Their upper lip stiffened, and they cantered into the space between Amore and the door. Darkness obscured their face, save their steely glare. “No,” they said, sniffling. “I won’t let you.”
Amore’s smile faltered. She tried her magic to nudge Citrine aside, but a million tiny explosions thrashed her skull at the effort. A few sparks sputtered from her horn. She winced, clutching her temple. She fixed Citrine with a level stare and said, “Your concern is sweet, Captain, but it isn’t your place to tell me what I can and cannot do.”
“Somepony has to look out for you if you won’t do it yourself.”
The silence, however brief, was thunderous. “I can handle myself just fine.”
Citrine wiped their muzzle. “Not if the last three days are anything to go by.”
“And that’s why I’m trying to fix this. To apologize for abandoning everypony in their time of need. Now—”
A harrowing groan cut her off. “That’s not what they care about!” Citrine bawled. “That’s not what any of this is about!”
“Yes. It is.” Amore stomped a hoof, sending bolts of fire up her leg. “I failed in my duty. Let myself be blinded by emotion and became incapable of protecting the Empire. Their spirits are broken because of that. Because of me.” She failed to keep the crack out of her voice.
The moonlight caught in Citrine’s teeth as they bared them. “You really think any of this is because you ‘failed in your duty?’ I guarantee that thought hasn’t crossed a single pony’s mind in three days.” They advanced a step, revealing silver tears flooding down their cheeks. “Why did you pick Cobalt?”
“Pardon?”
“Why did you go after Cobalt instead of staying behind to protect the Empire?” Their glare met Amore’s eyes unblinkingly, as though her answer now would change the world.
Amore’s heart burned. “Because I couldn’t bear the thought of somepony I cared about suffering so much.”
“Exactly!” Citrine took another step, now close enough to touch Amore if they reached. They jabbed a hoof at the window. “They’re hurting now for the same reason. They care about you. They love you. And not just because you’re a princess, or a leader, or whatever. You’re like family to them. What do you think it did to them to see you drop from the Crystal Heart a half-dead, bloody mess?!”
For the first time, Amore struggled for a reply. Her heart twisted, but she wrenched her eyes shut and shook her head, as though this would all vanish like a bad dream. “You can’t claim to speak for the Empire, Citrine. They don’t know me like you do.”
“What? So they don’t get to care about you because they’re not in—” They sniffled. “Because they’re not best friends with you?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Amore turned away, unable to meet Citrine’s boiling eyes. “I know they care. But it’s not the same.” The sparkle of her tiara on the nightstand caught her eye. “It can’t be.”
“You don’t get to pick who loves you, Amore. Or how they do it.”
“What difference does it make?!” Amore shot, heat rising in her own eyes. “Even if you’re right, I’m still their princess. Above all else, I’m supposed to protect them. And I did the opposite. They might not see it that way, but I do. I went to rescue Cobalt because I was caught up in the heat of the moment—like you are now. It was a mistake.”
“His wife and kids probably don’t think so,” Citrine said, their voice dark.
Amore bit her lip, the first of her tears rolling free. “You agreed that it was the wrong choice.”
“Made for the right reasons, though.” They stepped back in front of Amore, but the princess craned her head away. “Everypony would understand why you did it.”
“Well, ‘everypony’ doesn’t have an empire to protect, do they?”
“And how are you supposed to protect anything if you don’t protect yourself?” Citrine moved over to the window. The muted song still carried through it, filling the night. “Listen to them! They’re not just upset. They’re mourning. Last they saw, you were at death’s door. Just hearing that you woke up, even for a bit, will be the best news they’ve had in days.
“Right now, they don’t care if you failed them or not. They don’t care if you can protect them or not. They just want to see you happy and healthy again. And stars above, that’s what they’re gonna get.” They marched over to the bed, straightened the blankets, and waited.
Amore swallowed a sob. Her heavy eyes finally met Citrine’s. They wore the bloodshot blear of a restless lifetime. Amore wanted to continue, but she had nothing left. The vice of exhaustion had clamped down once more.
At last, she sighed. “Can I make one request?”
Citrine’s pupils narrowed. “What?”
“A glass of water,” she said, pursing her cracked lips.
At that, Citrine’s whole face loosened. They nodded and trotted over to the door. Edging it open, they threw a look over their shoulder and said, “Stay here.” They disappeared into the hallway, leaving the princess alone.
Part of her wanted to barrel out the door the moment Citrine’s hoofsteps faded. Part of her wanted to dive out the window and vanish into the night. It would be fine. Citrine would forgive her—eventually—and she’d get her rest all the same. It couldn’t matter that much.
Her gaze lingered on the bed for a few heartbeats. She blinked, and she climbed beneath the sheets. She curled into a cocoon of blankets and feathers as her head sank into the pillows.
Eyelids fluttering shut, she soon lost herself in the distant melody that became her lullaby. She wondered whether she deserved to hear it, and that was her final thought as sleep muddled her mind.
Amore sat bolt upright. A harsh chill had overtaken her bedroom. She couldn't tell how long she’d been sleeping, and right now it didn’t matter. The blankets ripped from her body with one strained wing flap and she ran to the window.
Pulsating black fog consumed the Empire’s edge in a bank ten ponies thick. It rimmed the outer fields for as far as Amore’s view allowed and likely farther. It rolled forth at a glacial pace, suffocating the landscape inch by inch. The sky above was light but overcast, and the clouds swirled inward like dark, tempestuous harbingers.
Amore’s heart leapt to her throat. The umbrum had staged large-scale attacks in the past, but never like this. At their current pace, she guessed they would be upon the outer buildings in ten minutes or less. She didn’t spare a second thought as she launched out the window.
A dull ache permeated her body as she glided down between the palace’s spires. She ignored it, following the sloping walls until she reached the ground, impacting on the cusp of the Crystal Heart Pavilion.
Hundreds of eyes darted her way. “Princess!” the crowd boomed, their voices running the full gamut of emotion. They erupted into a noisy maelstrom, slinging questions like mud.
Amore flared her wings and called, “Silence, my little ponies.” She scanned the courtyard as the din began to calm.
Most of the Empire was already here. Civilians huddled close together, many in familial units but some with friends or strangers. Guards and soldiers stood scattered throughout—most near the edges where the crowd tapered off. Other ponies were still galloping in from the surrounding streets. Foals wailed and murmurs rumbled. Nopony’s coat had completely lost its shine, but many were noticeably duller. A cold wind whipped about, tangling manes and tails through sheer turbulence.
The Crystal Heart, for its part, shone bright. Amore lingered on it for just a hair.
Her gaze landed on a group standing by the palace’s southwestern entrance. Citrine Star stood alongside three other ponies: their first and second lieutenants, Jade Shine and Marble Knight, plus Amore’s royal advisor, Crystal Quill. All of them met her eyes with a mixture of relief and confusion.
All but Citrine. Amore shared a terse look with the captain before turning to the crowd at large. “I wish I could say more, but we have little time. Everypony is to remain no more than a hundred hooves from the Crystal Heart—make sure everypony has room. If somepony in armour gives you directions, follow them. Defenders of the Heart, make sure nopony leaves this plaza.” Eight guards nodded their assent.
“Wait for further instructions while we amass our defenses.” Her eyes went dewy, and she gave a faint smile. “Thank you. I’m so proud, and I’m sorry. I love you all.” The cacophony only seemed to build as she finished. Amore frowned. With a deft leap, she closed the distance to her assembled aides.
“Grace,” Crystal Quill said, bowing as Amore touched down, “you are a sight for sore eyes. But are you well enough to—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Amore said. Her eyes steeled over as she looked to the horizon. The shadows crept higher like some perverse sunrise. “The soldiers can only do so much. Without my magic, the Empire will not endure this.”
Citrine scowled at the ground. “She’s right. Even with all hooves mobilized, we’re not ready for something this big.”
“Neither are they,” Amore said. “They’re moving slowly; they’re still recovering.”
Marble Knight’s brow furrowed. “Why would they attack if they’re weakened?”
“Because they know we’re weak, too.” Amore raised her head high, her spine going straight. “Marble, you stay here and coordinate the pavilion guards. Help them escort everypony into the palace. They’ll be safer inside.”
“Are you sure, Princess? Surely the closer to the Crystal Heart, the better.”
“We need to maintain the calm, which means they can’t witness any combat. And the palace is close enough to the Heart to be safe. Umbrum can’t get very close to it, even if they materialize.” Her focus pivoted to her advisor. “Quill, find our most recent census. Gather as much of the staff as you can and perform a headcount together—the faster, the better. If anypony is unaccounted for, let Marble know. He can handle it from there.”
Quill’s frizzy mane frizzed more, but she nodded. “Of course, Grace.”
Lastly, Amore shifted to Citrine and Jade Shine. “Citrine, gather our remaining forces. We’ll split them in three, and each of us will lead a charge. You take the south. Jade, take the northeast. I will start northwest and make my way around as needed.”
Citrine’s mouth became a tight line. Jade nodded sharply and said, “Understood, Chief! We won’t let ya down!”
Amore gave a forlorn smile. “Thank you, my friends. I have faith in all of you.” Her wings spread wide, wrapping the whole group in a downy embrace. “I’ll see you on the other side of this. Be safe.”
“Back at ya,” Citrine said, their eyes unable to meet hers.
Amore’s wings folded in, and each pony broke off in their own direction. The princess carried off to the northwest and waited for her battalion to gather, her eyes glued on the distant darkness. Memories from the bottom of that glacial abyss flooded to her, making her shiver. She centered herself, closing her eyes and feeling her chest rise as she drew on her connection to the Crystal Heart. It held strong—the collective light of her friends and family filled her with renewed vigor.
Her eyes opened, sharp as blades. This wouldn’t be pretty, but they would survive. Even if it killed her.
They stood together at edge, glaring into oblivion. And oblivion glared back.
The crawling wall of shadows didn’t even slow as the full force of Amore’s military readied their pikes. Amore herself stood on a rooftop near the outskirts, wind billowing her mane. She analyzed the countryside for any sudden movement or flicker of magic.
In their current form, the umbrum could not advance much farther—Amore knew that from experience. They would have to become corporeal, which made them vulnerable. She prayed they were weak enough that few would be able to hold such a form for very long. The full scale of the umbrum's injuries eluded her, but they had to be extensive. A small part of her believed that, just maybe, this battle wouldn’t even breach the city itself.
The first of the umbrum manifested, their corpse-like faces roaring out of the fog like spirits through death's veil. War cries boomed as Amore's army charged ahead to meet them. The princess took to the skies and dove into action.
Umbrum that saw her approach returned to the miasma. A less perceptive cluster scattered to wisps as her amber spears lanced down. Each shot felt like lightning in her brain, but she bore it through clenched teeth. She coasted at a safe distance, scanning for more tangible umbrum.
She saw none. Looking to where her soldiers charged distantly, even those umbrum retreated. None of their eyes flared. None of them even tried to attack. The whole wall lurched to a halt as her ponies got close.
Her blood ran cold. Something was wrong.
One umbrum—still ethereal—blitzed for the nearest soldier. It whipped a dozen tiny tendrils at the stallion’s face and pulled itself down, latching on like a leech. Another umbrum followed. Then another. A whole swarm of them screeched out and clung to any pony they could reach. The soldiers’ screams were muffled as they dropped their pikes, trying to pry the beasts off with frantic hooves.
Amore barreled into a nosedive. Light beamed from her horn in a wide cone, bathing the ponies in radiance. The umbrum shrieked and fled, leaving dark cuts around the eyes and mouths of their victims. Amore’s heart raced as she looked to the next platoon over.
They too were thrashing and crying as the umbrum ripped into their features. Amore pumped her wings and hauled forward—but as she drew near, the umbrum vanished into wisps. Her ponies’ faces twisted, and their screams came out garbled and hoarse. Eyes wide, Amore landed beside the closest soldier. Grabbing both of the mare’s shoulders, she yelled, “Can you hear me?!”
As if in response, the soldier went limp. Her head bobbed lifelessly to one side. But as Amore’s mind jumped to the worst, the pony’s eyes peeled open. Clouded over a dark shade of blue, they turned on Amore. For a moment, she simply held the mare's gaze.
The guard smiled, baring all her teeth. “Too easy,” she said, her voice deep beyond recognition.
Amore dropped the pony like she might burst into flames. Every thought and emotion within her being mangled together in a sickening knot. She reflexively wrapped the pony in her magic, holding her down.
The mare writhed and howled in ear-splitting agony. Shadow-stuff boiled out through her eyes and mouth, condensing into an umbrum that reeled into the dark fog. The soldier lay there panting and sweat-soaked but still alive.
Amore instantly looked to the other ponies of the platoon. Some still flailed on the ground. Others wore pale, slack expressions. And others still had risen to their hooves, galloping towards the Empire with purpose. They hurried down the main roads, making a beeline for the Crystal Heart.
The Crystal Heart which was, at this moment, unprotected.
Tears had begun pouring at some point. This had to be a nightmare. This couldn’t be real. Yet it was. Through every stabbing pain in her heart and mind, she knew it was. And the longer she stood there, hoping to wake up, the more time she wasted.
Shaking herself lucid, she helped the soldier up and sent her fleeing. Amore squeezed her eyes dry and lifted her head. “Fall back!” she bellowed to anypony that might still hear her. “The Crystal Heart is at risk!” She rocketed into the sky and flew down the nearest street.
Biting cold engulfed her and stopped her dead. She looked down to where a group of enchanted soldiers stood, glaring at her with eyes of moonlight. They yanked her to the ground and leapt on her.
Amore unleashed a bright flare, yelping at the fire in her horn. The ponies collapsed as the dispelled umbrum blew off into the sky. Scrambling to her hooves, Amore readied her wings.
Something lunged from an alleyway, tackling her sideways. She rolled to a halt, pinned to the earth by another pony. He raised a hoof to strike her, but she pressed her glowing horn to his temple and held it there, evaporating the shadow within. The soldier tumbled off her—Amore caught him and eased him down. Standing again, she glanced around. Another six umbrum-possessed ponies flanked her already, aimed to pounce.
Amore bit her lip, tasting iron. “I’m sorry, friends,” she whispered. “I’ll come back for you.” She closed her eyes and imagined the Crystal Heart Pavilion in vivid detail. Her magic stressed and strained, feeling as though it might rend her skull in half, but it obeyed. She vanished in an amber blink.
She reappeared an instant later, standing up by adrenaline alone. Clutching her head, she opened her wild eyes. The blur quickly cleared as she took in the plaza.
The Crystal Heart spun lazily in its beacon, its glow dim. Citrine stood next to it, their hind legs poised to kick. A pallid green glaze hid their eyes. They met Amore’s stare, and a thin smirk split their muzzle.
Hooves electric, Amore screamed and dove at the creature. Simultaneously, it bucked with Citrine’s hooves and sent the Heart flying. Amore connected, tumbling together with the umbrum in a flailing mess. She held it down by the shoulders and channeled her magic.
A few lonely sparks sputtered from her horn. She reached for her head on instinct, and the umbrum punched her temple hard. Her vision went white as she toppled. Sight returned just as the umbrum hurdled over her, galloping to where the Heart lay near the edge of the plaza.
“Get away!” Amore shrieked. She crouched low and pumped her wings, shooting up and ahead of the umbrum. She stretched her hooves for the Crystal Heart.
Her head snapped backward as a bitter magic snagged her mane. The umbrum lifted her up, its eyes aglow. It grinned. “After you.” The world whipped past as the beast hurled her into the palace doors at top speed.
Amore collided headfirst. The doors splintered and ripped from their hinges, barely slowing her. Screams filled her ears as she smacked into a pillar with an audible crack. She fell to the floor like a ragdoll. Her whole body felt like a single, flaming nerve, soothed barely by each shallow breath she took.
Something prodded her. “Princess?” a small, trembling voice said.
Looking up, Amore met an adolescent colt’s tear-soaked eyes. Despite the fact that her whole world was ringing and red, she instantly recalled his name—Steel Bolt. He was an apprentice to his father Crucible, the blacksmith.
Past him, hundreds more ponies were gathered in the foyer. All of them beheld her with one of two faces: quivering and broken or blanched and wide-eyed. Some held hooves to their mouths. A few—the guards especially—glanced to the doorway before facing to her again.
Amore recognized every pony. She would keep them safe. No matter what.
Marble Knight rushed forward and extended a hoof. Amore took it. She didn’t meet anypony’s eyes directly—she couldn’t bear to. Instead, she focused on the doorway and wiped her muzzle of both blood and mucus. “Stay inside.” Her voice could’ve sundered mountains. She galloped forward and launched into the fray.
More possessed ponies had arrived in the pavilion, smiling with all their teeth. Amore banked left, aiming for where the Crystal Heart twitched in a dark aura. She didn’t even make it halfway before getting caught in the very same magic. It didn’t toss her this time. It simply locked her there, helpless.
“I think that’s enough from you.” The Citrine-shaped monstrosity approached. Its sneer could’ve bent light. “Little bitch doesn’t know when to quit.”
Amore tried for her magic again, but it wouldn’t come. She glared through Citrine and into the core of the beast itself. “Get out of them.”
The umbrum chuckled. “Trust me, I don’t plan on staying in this meat sack any longer than I have to. Its love is nauseating. I won’t have a use for it anyway once this is dealt with.” The Crystal Heart floated higher.
Gasps and cries rang out. All eyes turned to the palace doors, where a cluster of ponies had gathered behind the lineup of guards. They were mostly staring up at Amore, mouths agape.
“No!” Amore shouted, struggling against the magic. “Don’t hurt them!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. An audience is exactly what we need!” Shadows licked out between Citrine’s teeth. The umbrum's face glowed as it stepped between Amore and the crowd. “Behold, peasants! I present to you the only two forces that ever stood a chance against my children and I.” It thrust Amore and the Crystal Heart even higher. “Both are at our mercy. Both are useless. And both are about to be destroyed before your very eyes!”
“No!” Marble Knight broke loose from the crowd, charging headlong at Citrine. Three umbrum were upon him before he even cleared the stairs. They pushed him to the ground, where he struggled and squirmed under their weight. “You won’t get away with this. You won’t win!”
Citrine barked a single, throaty laugh. “It’s too late for that, you cretin. Look around!” It swept a hoof across the landscape. The vast wall of umbrum in the distance loomed ever closer, already overtaking the farthest buildings. “My children roam free. Your army is ours. Your precious Crystal Heart is powerless.
“All that’s left now…” It passed the Crystal Heart to another umbrum and bored its hungry eyes into the Crystal Princess. The full brunt of its magic strangled her body. “…is to break your hero.” The force became a vice around Amore’s throat.
She gulped a final breath before her airway shut. She pawed at her neck and tried to force another inhale, but nothing came. It was everything she could do not to panic as the muffled wails of her citizens filled her ears. Her chest burned and her eyes bulged as her vision began tunnelling.
She locked eyes with Citrine. Memories of their last conversation filled her mind. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. In a quiet, raspy voice, Amore said, “Citrine. I’m sorry.”
Citrine’s smile dropped. “Shut up.”
Tears clouded Amore’s eyes—and not just from the pain. “You were right. I should’ve listened. But it’s not too late. Please. I know you’re in there.” The world around her was fading.
The umbrum’s grip wavered, and Amore managed a sliver of air. “Shut up!” the creature roared. Sweat glistened on its brow.
Somehow, Amore smiled. “Thank you. For everything. I love you. And I know you love me.”
A screech split the air—a vile blend of Citrine’s voice and something alien. Amore fell to the ground and pulled in a heavy breath. She watched as Citrine squirmed, stomping their hooves and flicking their tail as they fought an unseen battle. Green smoke and ichor oozed from their every orifice until the umbrum finally let go. It manifested a small distance away, laying on its side in a grisly heap. Citrine barely caught themselves as they staggered sideways.
Amore struggled to her hooves and threw Citrine in an embrace. The captain squeezed her close, burying their wet face in her mane. They coughed and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Amore cooed. “You’re safe now.”
“Not for long.” The two ponies broke from their hug, scowling as the tall, skeletal umbrum pushed itself up. It snapped a look over its shoulder at the possessed pack behind it. “Ira, you fool. The Heart!”
Lieutenant Jade Shine’s eyes flashed a morbid red, sending the Crystal Heart skyward. Every umbrum locked eyes on it. A low thrum filled the air, shaking Amore to her soul. Countless rays of black energy shot up, striking the Heart directly. They coiled into an angry, shadowy sphere around it. Cracks immediately formed on the Heart's surface.
“No!” Amore flew straight for it. All warmth fled her body as she pressed into the darkness entombing the relic. Remarkably, it didn’t hurt—it only numbed her. She clutched the Heart close to her body. Pieces of the crystal were already falling away.
She couldn’t hear anything over the thunder of magic—she couldn’t speak either. She could only watch. She watched as her ponies, guards and civilians alike, flooded out of the castle and swamped the umbrum. She watched as some of the possessed soldiers broke from their spell, their eyes burning coals. She watched as Citrine hurled themselves at the umbrum leader, wrestling it to the ground.
She glanced down at her own body. It was fading. Quickly. Dark gashes widened across her coat like a hundred rotten maws. Her feathers withered to ash. Her mane and tail burned in a black inferno. Still, she felt none of it. But by looks alone, one thing was obvious: she would not survive this.
She looked at the Crystal Heart. No light came from it. Its facets were dull and grey. Shadows poured into it from every direction, rupturing it from within. Tears fell from her cheeks, boiling as they hit the relic’s surface. It would not survive this either.
But one of them had to survive. There was no other way.
Amore took one last look around the Crystal Empire, admiring all of her little ponies’ faces. Her friends and family, whom she loved with all that she was. She smiled and pressed her horn to the Crystal Heart.
Clamping her eyes shut, she dug deep within herself. Through her body. Through her mind. Even through her heart. She followed the lines of light and love that permeated her entire being. She found the epicenter. The core.
It appeared in her mind’s eye—a formless, radiant essence. It was so familiar. Then, of course it was. It was her every thought. Every feeling. Every memory. Every ounce of magic. This was everything that made her her. The Princess of Love.
It was everywhere. It was everything. It was warm. It smelled like spring. It felt like spring. She floated in it. Swam through it. Breathed it. It reminded her that she was alive.
She couldn’t see anything. The world was white. The burning white of pain. The calming white of ecstasy. She couldn’t even see herself through it. Just white. And air. Forever. She was okay with that.
No, she wasn’t. Was she? Should she have been? It felt so right. She could spend eternity here. Maybe she had already. But she was forgetting something. She knew she was.
She remembered.
Amore touched down. The ground was wet, and it made a glassy tinkle as her hooves landed. She looked around, and the world came into view as if by her will.
Delicate, periwinkle mist—barely pastern-level—swirled in every direction, extending to the horizon where it met the pink clouds that crowded the sky. The sun shone from its zenith, but the light was blue and dreamlike. And despite the mist, the air felt soft and warm, like a fleece blanket. A choir, or something like it, sang in the distance, taming the silence into peace.
Off to her left, the mist suddenly rose. It sculpted itself into different shapes. At first, they were formless nothings, yet her brain still tried to make sense of them. They slowly morphed and grew, taking on more structure. One was a bridge that crossed a pond which hadn’t been there moments ago. Another was a cluster of long, tall plants that painted themselves pink. Another stood above everything else—a mighty chestnut tree.
Amore blinked. She was in the Amaranth Commons.
But there was one shape that took longer to condense than the rest. A small one—just chest-height. It grew beneath the tree. Parts of it curled off in strange ways, flowing like water. Other parts looked more solid. It was more intricate than anything else, like a carved statue.
Suddenly, the shape clicked in Amore’s mind. It was a pony. A filly. Unlike everything else, her colour didn’t shift. Her whole body stayed the same soothing blue that defined this misty realm. She sat looking away from Amore, staring off to the horizon.
Amore approached. “Hello?” she called. Her voice tasted like honey and sounded like rain.
The filly didn’t react. Amore started walking closer. “Who are you? Where are we?”
“Do you miss Mom and Dad?” The voice came from everywhere. It wasn’t loud, and its tone betrayed nothing, but Amore knew the voice. It was her own. It held a younger cadence, but she still knew it.
“Sorry?” Amore said.
The filly cocked her head a bit to one side. “I think about them a lot.”
“What happened?” Amore asked. “The umbrum? The Empire?”
“They loved us like nopony else.” The filly’s ears fell. “It’s hard to let anypony else love you like that.”
Amore arrived next to the filly. Looking down at her face made Amore’s chest hurt. “Are you the Crystal Heart?”
The filly giggled but still didn’t look at her. “That’s just like you. Even after what happened, you’re still thinking about anything but yourself.”
“What did happen?”
With one glimmering hoof, the filly pointed outwards. Amore’s gaze followed it to the horizon. The clouds shifted and parted, and a clear image filled the sky. Amore’s heart tightened.
Everypony in the Empire was there, gathered in the Crystal Heart Pavilion. All of them clung to one another, not a dry eye to be seen. Some were screaming, though Amore couldn’t hear them. Others appeared to be singing. Beyond them, the distance was gorgeous. No shadows. No storms. Nothing but clear skies as far as she could see.
She lifted a hoof to her mouth. “Where are the umbrum?” Amore blurted. The question even sounded stupid to her.
“Gone,” the filly said. “Someplace where they can’t hurt anyone. You did them in. Dispelled them completely. Congratulations.”
Amore tried to smile, but couldn’t. “It’s over, then. We won.” It was a statement of fact—nothing more.
“Does it look like we won?”
Among the guards, Amore saw Jade Shine and Marble Knight in a shouting match, both with softness in their eyes. Primrose sat a small distance away, her face buried in her husband’s coat. Off near the palace doors, Crystal Quill looked utterly lost. Behind her, Cobalt was limping through the hall towards the courtyard alongside his family.
The view rotated, and suddenly Citrine filled the whole sky. They were looking down at Amore, pounding their bloody hooves on an unseen surface. Their face was a mangled wreck, scowling and frowning at the same time. Their eyes were locked on something only they could see. For all the world, Citrine looked ready to crumble and scatter to the wind.
The image moved again, panning slowly around the whole of the plaza, showing everypony’s broken expressions. The Empire was still standing. None of her loved ones had been killed. The Crystal Heart remained intact. The umbrum were gone. The future was bright.
And still, nopony smiled.
Amore’s cheeks were already drenched with tears. “They’re safe,” she whispered. “That’s all that matters.”
“Is it?”
Her words caught in her throat. She swallowed them and sat there, watching the horrible scene unfold. It burned into her memory. She wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug each and every one of them. To tell them that they would be okay. To tell them how much she loved each of them. How proud she truly was.
Amore’s jaw clenched. “Am I dead?”
“Not quite,” the filly said, still enigmatic in her inflection. “But I have a feeling you will be soon.”
At that, Amore managed to peel her eyes away. She looked down, and the filly was smiling. “What do you mean?” Amore asked.
“Well, you have a choice.” The filly gestured her hoof across the whole of the landscape, sweeping wide before pulling back in and touching her own chest. “All of this is only here because of you. You’re the one holding me together.”
Amore went cold. The warmth of the air quickly reclaimed her, though. “So the umbrum… they managed to destroy you.”
The filly nodded. “You can stay here. With your love, we can live forever. Protect them forever. Or…” She lowered her hoof and looked back to the horizon. “…you can go back.”
Looking again to her friends and family, Amore frowned. “What would happen to you?”
“I would cease to be.”
Amore shook her head. “I can’t do that. The Empire needs you.” She sniffled, and her voice was an eggshell. “I need you.”
“You made me,” the filly said. “That means you lived before me. Without me. You don’t need me.”
Exhaling a shaky breath, Amore said, “But I wasn’t a princess then. You do so much for me now. How could I keep everypony happy and safe if you weren’t there?”
“As long as you’re there, they would be happy. As for the rest…” The filly chuckled. It sounded like wind chimes. “I’m sure you’d find a way.”
“I don’t know.” Amore gazed around. The nearby bunches of amaranth danced in a wind that wasn’t there. The ponds were still and crystal clear. The tree’s branches bloomed above her, each of its blossoms a perfect shade of white. It was beautiful. But she’d never enjoyed this place for its beauty.
She sighed. “I can’t stay here, either. I can’t abandon them like that.”
“It’s not abandonment. You did everything for them. Gave them everything you had. There’s nothing more you could’ve done.”
“Then why does it feel like I failed them?”
“Because you took away the one thing they cared about most.”
Amore met the filly’s eyes for the first time. The depth she found there was unfathomable. They were so young, but they revealed so much. They were windows into a library of infinite complexity. And at the same time, they were mirrors. Perfectly shined, they reflected just what they saw.
Wrapping one hoof around the filly, Amore pulled her close. She looked like she would be cold to the touch—she was anything but. Her warmth was one Amore had felt thousands of times, but there was something new about it now. For an eternal moment, she allowed herself to enjoy that feeling. She embraced it. She never wanted it to end.
They sat like that for some time, the angelic chorus of the world lulling them into a long reverie.
Finally, the filly said, “There is one other option.”
Amore perked her ears. “What’s that?”
“It would only stave off the inevitable. And it would require a great personal sacrifice.”
Chuckling, Amore looked down at her. “Do you think that’s really a problem for me?”
Her smile fell. The filly was frowning, her head bowed. “You can go back, for a while. And I can keep myself together, for a while. But you would need to return my gift.” The filly closed her eyes. “That’s the only way.”
Amore stared at her gormlessly. Her eyes went stark as the realization dawned. Her wings ruffled at her sides. She pulled in a breath, held it impossibly long, and exhaled. It wasn’t even a decision anymore.
“Do it.”
The filly nodded. “As you wish.”
All around, the mist roiled into a whirlwind. It was colossal—it filled the whole world and then some. The filly got caught up in it and vanished. The vortex closed in on Amore, growing tighter and tighter. The winds tore by at dangerous speed. She would be in its clutches before long.
The sense of peace never left her. The chaos enveloped her in a cocoon, binding her completely. There was a flash, a dull boom, and then the world went white once more.
Amore heard their voices long before she saw anything. Gasps and cries filled the air. Everypony clamored and shouted, tension dripping. She saw the first hints of colour, and suddenly everything was quiet.
The magic swirled off of her body, leaving only the faintest shimmer. She descended slowly, smiling down on her family as her hooves touched the earth. Exhaustion hammered through her instantly, and she collapsed to the side.
Everypony burst into action. They spoke over one another as they crammed in, questions and condolences flying in staggered parts. The ponies formed a close ring around their princess, eyes wide and mouths slackjaw.
Citrine pushed their way through and knelt down beside her. They lifted Amore’s head in their hooves, sparkling tears in their eyes. “Amore! You’re alive?! What did they do to you?! Your… your wings…” With half-lidded eyes, Amore glanced at her back—the strain in her neck all too apparent.
Her wings were gone. Her coat was smooth and unbroken, as though nothing had even been there in the first place. She grinned. “I would give them up a thousand times over to see all of you again.”
Biting their lip, Citrine wrapped Amore in a hug. Amore placed a tender hoof on their withers and cast her gaze to the rest of the crowd.
They had gone mostly quiet. All eyes were fixed on her, and many of their faces turned up in smiles. The tears were still a constant, but they were different tears. Brighter tears. Tears that would water their seedling of an Empire and foster a better tomorrow.
Some ponies glanced to something just above her. Amore followed their eyes and found the Crystal Heart, glowing vibrantly as ever. She nodded to it and lowered her head to rest in Citrine’s mane. A warm silence reigned, undercut only by the familiar thrum of the Crystal Heart’s magic.
Primrose stood at the front of the crowd. She looked left and right, and eventually she said, “So, what happens now?”
Amore laughed. An honest to goodness laugh. “Now?” She beamed at everypony, truly feeling their loving gazes for the first time.
