Sunset had endured enough criticism today. Sunset, you are slouching. Sunset, your mane needs brushing. On and on they came, part of propriety crash-course for a banquet honouring some visiting dignitary. They made her blood boil, those little barbs.
So maybe her manners weren't princess-perfect. So maybe her magic went a little wild when she was upset. So what? It's not like she wanted to be at the dinner anyway.
Her nose pricked. "Is something..." She looked down, gaze following a coil of smoke. "Ack! My tail's on fire!"
"Her Highness Celestia, ruler of Equestria, Queen of Everfree, Sovereign of Sun and Moon would have thine ears! Hear one, hear all!
"With the op'ning of Her court at Canterlot, Her Highness Celestia declares the next new moon as the Moon of Merriment! Plays, games, theatre, and revelry are to abound in the newly-crowned city!
"Sound thy sonnets! Muse thy music! Ply thy plays! Her Highness Celestia welcomes all to perform before Her through the Moon of Merriment!
"For thine efforts, Her Highness Celestia bestows a princessly sum to all so moved to perform!
"Mark ye well, for at the conclusion of the Moon, Her Highness Celestia shall bestow lady- or lorddom upon that pony which most draws mirth from the crown!
"Hear one, hear all, the Moon of Merriment draws nigh!"
To keep from wrecking anything, Octavia locked every muscle in her body. Ice flushed through her legs and magma pooled in her chest. Her ears rang.
Anxious hooves shuffled behind her.
A muscle strained behind her ear. It traveled down her neck and ended with a shudder down a wither, threatening to tear everything loose.
Slowly, deliberately, Octavia prepared herself to speak. The process was delicate and painful, drawing breath and opening her jaw, water flowing over a dam. She nearly broke, tail lashing, seized herself, and tried again: breath in, hold, wait, release. In, hold, release. Again, in, hold...
"I am mad at you, Vinyl," she said, voice rigid as wood, eyes on infinity, "because you cut the bread in the wrong way."
On the sofa lay Carrot and Cup, nestled like spoons in a drawer. The twins were finally asleep. Pinkie was away with friends. The turntable spun, whispering a soft hiss from the center of the record. Lanterns burned evenly, undisturbed.
Carrot hummed a half-remembered tune. Cup's chin tucked against the hollow behind Carrot's jaw, pressing softly where his neck ended and his face began. They hadn't moved much for some time.
They had talked. Made plans. Discussed a little of the future and the past. But now all was still. The air was cool, their bodies warm.
On a whim, like in younger years, Cup reached up and nipped at his ear. Just a nibble. He cooed agreeably and she felt his smile. She smiled, too, and laid her head down again.
Octavia Philharmonica wrinkled her nose as the pounding on her door continued. She wrenched it open mid-knock and was rewarded with the startled yelp from an unbalanced mare. She regarded the mess of a mane... and those gawdy glasses.
"Can I help you?"
"Octy?" The knocker seemed to brighten in jubilant shock. "Octy! It's you! I found you!"
Octavia disregarded the tinge of desperation seeping into the mare's voice. "Yes, my name is Octavia. What do you want?"
"I've been looking for you forever! Why didn't... You never wrote where you went, and you never came back, and I know how much this thing means to you..."
The mare stutter-stepped to reveal an instrument case leaning on the stair railing.
Octavia blinked, confused. "I... I seem to recall owning a cello, once."
"Octy, it's your cello!"
A glimmer of recognition. "Ah. We lived together."
The three youths were abuzz as they burst into Sugarcube Corner.
"That was amazing!" cried Pericardium, shedding his sheepdog disguise.
"Hey," said Pound Cake, "I'll get us some snacks before the rush!"
"We'll find a booth!"
Pound disappeared into the kitchen, and the remaining two played a laughing game of catch-a-can as they decided where to sit.
There is a certain kind of bond that comes from surviving a maelstrom of machine-cut lumber. And, although the culprit had not been identified, they were all excited for the team- and character- and town-rebuilding to come.
Pound revealed a heaping tray of confections. "I know we all just met, but we're friends now, right?"
"How could we not be!" trilled Pericardium. "We're all survivors!"
"we're all sentient, biological life-forms," intoned a very happy Tree Thousand.
Sunset sat alone, the words on the page passing unread for the fourth time. All she could see was the disapproval on Princess Celestia's face. The accusation. The fear. Yes, the fear. Sunset knew her well enough to see the fear.
She had hated the banquet. She hated the food, hated the stuffy dignitaries, and hated being invisible and without purpose. A porcelain Sunset doll. At last, she erupted. And then she had fled to her books.
The stench of burning fish still filled her nostrils. She replayed the scene in her mind. To her surprise, she didn't feel guilt. Only empty. Drained.
Lost.
Sunset had just wanted out. Had wanted to be seen. Wanted… Wanted something to do. Wanted to have a reason to be somewhere. But now even her books denied her that.
The sphinx grinned down at the three pony sisters, fangs glinting.
"Very well." Its tail lashed. "I shall depart. However—"
The relief on the ponies' faces froze.
"—you must each pay my price." Its gaze bored into the unicorn. "To survive eternity," to the pegasus, "or to die for it."
To the earth pony, the eldest sister, the sphinx said, "Alive or dead?"
"Terra, you can't—" The unicorn began, but Terra silenced her, lest the the wrong thing be said and doom their task.
At last, Terra resolved herself and met the sphinx's fixed stare. "Immortality is a violation against nature. Even had I the fortitude to endure it, I would abhor myself."
The sphinx blinked. Terra crumpled on the spot, as if struck by a stone hammer.
The sphinx grinned again at the unicorn. "Alive or dead?"
The pegasus, trembling with terror, whispered a plea to her sister, "Celestia…"
Pinkie Pie looked up from the depths of the oven to find Twilight at the kitchen door, and she smiled. "Heya, Twilight! What's up?"
"Pinkie, I don't know how better to tell you this, so I'm just going to say it. I don't want you to spend time with me any more. If you see me around Ponyville, please don't make the effort to come up to me."
Pinkie twitched. "Twilight… what?"
"It's a small town, so it's probably inevitable that we'll see each other." Twilight's lips pursed sharply for an instant. "And stay out of my castle."
"What… Twilight, what's wrong?"
Backing away, "Thanks, Pinkie. For the good times. Bye." Wings clamped to her barrel, Twilight turned away.
Pinkie bounced over. "Twilight! Don't… What?"
Looking directly ahead, Twilight left the building.
On her left, Pinkie saw Rarity, looking mildly surprised.
Spike looked over mid-bite, confused. "What's up, Twilight?"
"When we lived in Canterlot. I wasn't kind to you."
Spike waited for her to continue, recognizing her preoccupied expression.
"You didn't complain, did you? I mean, you weren't always happy with the chores I foisted on you, but... Well, nothing about me. About you and I."
Spike thought. "I guess you're right." Still puzzled, "Why bring it up now?"
"Hm? Oh. No reason." Twilight caught his look. "Really, none. I was just remembering stuff earlier. Books. Things. I want to apologize, and remind you how much I love you, Spike."
Without hesitation, "I love you, too."
"So, I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"What?"
"Don't be. You've grown. Me, too!" He flexed, joking.
"Still, it wasn't okay."
Spike walked over and hugged her. "That's what you said when I owed my life to Applejack, too."
Diamond Tiara. My best friend since diapers. There are pictures to prove it – mommy keeps them locked in a fireproof safe 'for future blackmail purposes,' whatever that means. I wish she'd let me keep the one with us taking a bath in the sink. I think it's cute.
Going over to house was always the best. The outdoor pool during the summer, the fireplace in the winter. The phonograph while we'd play. Diamond Tiara likes her house better, too, which was fine with me. I like how it smells.
It is always what she wants. I never really thought of it that way, before. Not that I mind – not many ponies can relate like we can. Our background. Our history.
Yet, when I watch the Crusaders, or whatever they call their club, I wonder... what is friendship supposed to be? To look like?
The afternoon winds in the peaks around Our Town are very reliable. Almost exactly two hours before sunset, on a particular ridge, the wind simply stops.
It's my timer.
Every now and then, I take my octahedral box, or the tailed diamond – one of the sturdier designs – up there by myself and let soar. I hang my troubles on a line and float them up to the clouds, or the sun.
I find space from my worries and doubts and memories and I get to think. About my town, and my friends. About myself. About where I am, and where I want to be.
When the wind stops, I spool up the thread, set my burdens on my back, and return home to work.
There has long been nothing left for me to achieve in this existence. By the time you read this, I will be dead. I am sorry. Be kind to yourself. Good bye, my last friend.
With half the love in the universe, Twilight Sparkle
"I turn away for a few millennia," he groused, "and this is what I get."
Discord scowled at a passing black hole as it slowly evaporated. For a billion years or so he turned the spewing dust into bunnies, but eventually got bored with the idea.
"Fine, then." He tossed the parchment's few remaining particles over his shoulder. "She wants out, that's her business, but I'm not finished yet. Forget you, entropy, I want friends again."
He pressed a thumb and fingertip together. "Let's start over at, oh--"
Hearing of his reputation, the Equestrian Railway Authority hired Cheese Sandwich to coordinate its centennial celebration, asking for 'an exciting, memorable event'. Following his directive to the letter, Cheese pulled out all the stops.
Trains derailed, boilers exploded, water and coal stores spilled out willy-nilly -- all the stops were pulled. It took months before things were back to normal.
Sunset, what will you do with the crown of Magic? What use is it to you in that strange land? You were always so bright -- what do you know that I do not?
What is your life like, after all these years? Are you happy? Do you have friends? I wish that you are, and do, but I doubt you would return through the mirror to steal a magical artifact if that were so. Are you hurt? I wish to understand, and help if at all I am able.
Can we not talk again? Ponies can grow together as well as apart. I pushed you away, as I had with my own sister and so many others, but it need not be the end.
"Ohmygoodness!" Pinkie blurted. "A waterfall! Look, Applejack, a waterfall! Wowsers! I'mgonnajumpinraceyouthere!"
"Pinkie, what're you on about..." The next step revealed through a gap between the heavy trunks surrounding them, not far off the trail, a cascade of purple-blue. Its shush-shush reached out to her ears only then, as it must have with Pinkie, who was sprinting towards it.
The roiling shapes terrified her. Adrenaline surged; her ears rang and her barrel lurched and all she could see was Pinkie charging headlong and leaping towards the --
"Cannonball!"
"PINKIE!"
The moment Pinkie touched the water
the liquid spurted out around her, wrapping her limbs and barrel and neck
"Bow-bow-bow!"
pulling her in, swallowing her
"Bow-bow-bow!"
with a horrified shriek she was forever
"Wheee!" Pinkie splashed into the pool below with a cheer and beamed up. "What's that, Applejack?"
"Nothing can stop..." She shook her head, quivering, disoriented. "...What?"
True Tone grudgingly floats the binder back to me. "You're no fun, Octavia."
Expression tightly measured, I warily receive it, cautious that their 'game' might resume. Once it is in my hooves, cradle it tightly. I will examine it closely multiple times later, alone, secure, checking for smudges or tears or missing pages.
They should know better than to take a musician's sheet. It is air to her lungs, the ensemble's soul distilled. The score could be replaced, but my cues and notes written in accompaniment... The binder and the pages within are worn because they are used, are loved, are essential.
All for a bit of fun between themselves. At my expense. At my humiliation and horror.
"You need to lighten up." High Bee shrugs it off, the rest murmuring assent. "Sorry and all that."
Sour Sweet badgered Adagio through the doors. "You know, an icebreaker! What are you, stupid?"
Adagio answered very flat, not turning around. "I've never heard of it before. It's stupid."
"Right," Sour lilted sardonically, "making friends is stupid, thanks for the reminder."
"No. You would guess almost completely by random. And what should or shouldn't I lie about?" Adagio half-turned, arms folded and eyes near Sour's shoes. "Therefore, stupid. And you don't want to be my friend."
"That's my decision," Sour said. Suddenly saccharine, "Wanna hear my biggest regret?"
Adagio stopped. "Why?"
"I pushed someone who should have been my friend into nearly ending the world with magic." She raised placating hands. "Completely true! It happened! Now you."
"...I tried dominating two worlds. Failed. Tried ending myself." Adagio bared her wrists. "Completely true. Happy?"
Sour beamed. "Here's my number. Me, you, your sisters, my friends – let's jam tomorrow!"
Celestia dragged her sleep-addled self to the balcony as she always did to raise the sun for the morning. As she always did not, she trod muzzle-first into a dense thicket of leaves and twigs.
There should be no bramble here, she realized. The sensation was novel, tickling her face, and the scent very familiar... Then she felt the tendrils wrapping around her head and she lurched away -- in surprise more than panic (it hadn't been moving that fast).
Her chamber doors burst open. "Princess! Good, ah, take another step back, please!"
She did, and turned to see her royal horticulturist. "Silver Twig. Good morning. Might this have something to do with that breakthrough you mentioned yesterday?"
"Ah. Yes, Your Highness. We seem to have hit a bit of a snag. The good news is, once this is all sorted out, we'll have top-quality white tea for years."
A few crumbs of star wrestled with the moon's light and the city's evening glow as a rush of cheering issued from the Crystal Prep gymnasium beneath, to mingle in the susurrus of distant, incessant traffic.
"Y'know", Sunset said, and Twilight could feel her grin, "I think I get what you meant when you said you like volleyball games."
Twilight hmmm'd pleasantly.
"I feel sorry for the janitor, though."
"Don't worry." Twilight flashed her own smirk. "I'll make sure he finds his keys again."
It was night in the filly's room. The cake had been eaten, ice cream smudged, games played. Ribbons and wrappings of new toys littered the room in the sudden gloom.
Diamond buried her muzzle in her plush pillow as her daddy pulled the covers over her.
"Daddy?"
Her tone was different from her typical self-assuredness... brittle and cautious. She didn't move.
"Yes, princess?"
"I miss Mommy."
He tucked the comforter extra tight around her withers.
"I do, too."
Together, they existed for a time. She curled up; he leaning against the bedframe.
Eventually, she shifted -- enough to show a wan smile.
"Thank you for the party, Daddy."
He smiled back. "Anything for my little princess."
She nuzzled the pillow again. "Good night, Daddy."
Wild forest surrounds the robed man, blanketing the land for countless miles in every direction. Only the sounds of nature are heard in this place. Where the man stands no tree has taken root, the soil still remembering hooves on streets.
The man rests leaning on his walking stick, beholding a massive mound of rubble. Where the few rays of sunlight dance, crystal glitters from beneath the thinnest patches of moss. He has come a long way; he can wait a little longer. He takes a biscuit and pure water from his satchel.
Refilled and cleansed, he revently approaches the ruin. He removes his hood, kneels at the very edge, and touches just the heel of each palm to the crystal boulders.
The Apples had agreed to deal with the latest changes in the morning, and the dreaded time had come to take stock yet again.
In the orchard nothing grew but the trees, jutting from hexagonal stone plinths as far as the property reached, their onyx boughs were bent double, overladen with globular fruit the likes they'd never seen. Of the remaining animals, the roosters had taken to laying golden eggs balanced perfectly on the roof of the chicken-coop.
Applejack tended the coop while Mac towed their now square-wheeled cart to the acres. Apple Bloom was still missing; Twilight had offered in passing during her apologies that she should turn up sometime next week.
Applejack glanced to the castle, still vividly aglow and eager to spout another wave of magic. She huffed and returned to work. For her part, this Discord Magic Exchange Program couldn't end soon enough.
Twilight whipped her head, astonished, just in time to see Luna's expression bend to a wry smirk that was frighteningly like that she was more used to seeing from Celestia.
"It cannot be that surprising, Twilight Sparkle. In truth, I remain under its influence. By choice. I..." The smirk drained away, taking her gaze with it. "I suppose one might say I grew into the effects it granted me. I wished more than anything to be there for them. To be a guide, a confidant, a friend, in their darkest hours."
Luna smiled at her again, this time a distant, brittle expression. "There is some humor to be found it how literally that desire was expressed."
Fluttershy withdrew her snout from beneath the running spigot, fully aware it dripped surgery blood, and turned to face Discord fully.
"It's not as though I don't trust you. But you're Discord. I know how you think, sometimes, and sometimes your help is... unhelpful. And if you're helping me, then I can't miss what I never had."
"You don't know what you're missing," he scoffed, eyes rolling (and rolling and rolling) along his shrugging arms. All twelve eyes squinted at her. Fingers snapped.
The red in her field of view vanished. The mirror confirmed the blood was all gone, and no explosion of confetti.
"Bubbles," she observed. "That must have hurt."
"Please. The universe is my playground."
She gave a sly grin and flew over close as if to kiss his cheek.
"Ugh, gag!" he protested. "Can't miss what I never had!"
She sighed wistfully. "I appreciate the offer, though."
Luna had wanted the strength. The clarity that came with the coldness. Even the hatred, she had welcomed that to burn even hotter.
Stop.
She hadn't looked deeper. Hadn't wanted to. All she cared about was a conduit for her endless rage and loathing. She hadn't cared to look deeper, to see the nature that came with the strength she bargained for.
I don't want to be a monster.
The cruelty.
It's my life.
The evil.
Come now... Why would you want your life? It's not as though you were doing anything with it.
To Princess Celestia, the pair of royal guards looked like chagrined colts.
"You barricaded my recently-returned sister in her own chambers," she said, "behind a mountain of candy. Explain."
"Well, it's like those stories, Your Majesty," said lieutenant third class Spit Shine. "You remember."
"So to keep the palace safe," said sergeant grade two Polish Bright, "from, you know, any naughty ponies being devoured whole."
"If you knew what we get up to in the barracks..."
Celestia's eyebrow lifted. "I was going to ask where you ponies get these ideas, but it's clear centuries of Nightmare Night have done their damage. Such as it is... how did you manage to procure so many sweets?"
It is dark. Celestia's seatbelt is unbuckled. A student runs from behind the statue in front of the car. Luna swerves hard. There is a crash.
The equipment beeps and hisses in rhythm as it has for months now. Sunset takes a pause from reading to look over at the alabaster-skinned woman on the hospital bed... a woman she doesn't know, yet knows all too well... a woman who didn't deserve what Sunset was resposible for. Sunset's stomach knots even tighter and she digs her nails into the book. "I'm sorry, Celestia," she whispers. She dozes, near to tears.
A hand folds high around the bruises at Sunset's neck -- patient, domineering -- and she is paralyzed with fear.
"Yet again you return to keep watch over my dear sister," says the familiar, icy voice. "Good."
To Tempest, the view from 2,000 feet up was not unfamiliar. Alone in her observation blister, the world floated by far below, only she and her thoughts in the cage of metal and glass.
Everything was so small. The trees, the villages, the rivers, the ponies.
Tempest should think herself a god, with such a view, but quite the opposite was true. She felt small. Invible. Isolated. Alone. Unnecessary and unwanted.
The thought too was familiar: You should join them.
Oblivion was held back by a thin pane of glass. It would be so easy to blast it to smithereens and step into nothingness.
To fall. To disappear. To stop the pain once and for all.
She deserved it.
It would be so easy.
"Minion!" She called.
A moment later, a furred biped opened the hatch. "Commander?"
