I can’t simply ignore everything I’ve learned. We give ourselves to the will of Chaos so that nothing can submit us to that control again. I swore to uphold Chaos and bring its magic to all I meet. I’ve faltered, I’ve disappointed my mentor, and I must now make good on my vows.
I am Twilight Sparkle, Agent of Chaos, Harbinger of Entropy, Bringer of Discord. I will forsake my own petty desires to spread the Magic of Chaos and fulfill the ideals of our glorious Emperor, and I will start by destroying the Tree of Harm~
The splotch of ink on the torn page stared back at Twilight, a black mark on her record, casting judgement on her utter failure. Her new quill sat untouched on the steps of the throne room, next to an unopened inkwell. In her mind they seemed to be judging her for bringing them out and completely ignoring them.
Even though she knew it had only been days, it seemed like years since she’d written those words. Pinkie Pie might even be able to divine exactly how many years, if Twilight could only gather the courage to ask. Now as she stared at them, she wondered what had gone wrong.
She looked away from the page and up toward the twin thrones, one etched with a triumphant golden sun, the other with a silvery crescent moon. The colors had faded to near grey over a millennium and the once-sharp details weathered soft. They too seemed to be judging her from above, silent arbiters of law and order in a world given to chaos.
The great hall glowed with diffuse sunlight that angled through the west windows, here and there a sharp beam finding a broken pane to shine through. Twilight noted the light had been coming from the other direction when she’d decided to write in here. She imagined even the light itself was judging her for wasting the precious hours it granted.
When she looked down at the page again, a few of the lines seemed to jump out at her.
What am I? Discord’s pawn? A confused mare caught between worlds? A heartless deceiver?
…
The few weeks I previously spent in Ponyville were some of the best of my life. I made friends, when I didn’t even know that such a thing existed.
…
It goes against all the things I’ve been taught, but it felt so right.
…
I can’t simply ignore everything I’ve learned.
She stared at the final line until the rest of the text on the page faded to a blur. Absently she reached up and traced the fine golden chain draped loosely around her neck. Set into a modest pendant was the small gemstone she’d found after the battle. It was warm to the touch.
I can’t simply ignore everything I’ve learned.
All of a sudden, the grand throne room seemed unwelcoming and cold. The emptiness that had soothed her mind now pressed down and threatened to bury her.
With a flick of magic the journal snapped shut and flew into her bookbag, followed closely by the inkwell and quill. Her hooves echoed sharp and painful on her ears as she trotted away from the twin thrones without a glance back.
A few minutes later she emerged from the gate of the old castle and breathed a sigh of relief. The air out here didn’t smell of a thousand years of neglect, the deepening blue of the sky above didn’t need to be held up by a thousand tons of dead stone, and the trees shared their whispered thoughts instead of just echoing Twilight’s own back at her.
Under her hooves, she felt an unmistakable tingle of magic percolating up from the Tree of Harmony in the caves below. It was stronger out here than in the castle, for reasons she didn’t quite understand. If she concentrated, she could almost hear it talking to the gem around her neck, her horn catching subtle hints of harmonic feedback loops as if she were eavesdropping on a conversation in another room.
Letting the magic wash over her, she began to walk. It didn't matter where. She simply let herself be moved with the ebb and flow, eyes half closed and unfocused. Sometimes it told her to bear to the left or right, but mostly it just coaxed her forward.
But as she listened and walked, the conversation changed. Gradually, a third party began to murmur on the fringes, dark and indistinct. The Tree of Harmony faded and the new magic became more aggressive. It’s uncertain, chaotic fluctuations confused and muddled the magical fields even as the gem around her neck remained strong and unwavering.
Her hoof slipped.
Twilight’s moment of panic was brief but intense. She cried out and her eyes snapped open as she frantically scrambled to correct the imbalance that threatened to throw her head-over-hooves down a steep embankment.
A moment later her hooves found purchase and she managed to right herself. The trail from the old castle back toward Ponyville had many drop-offs and pitfalls, as her previous run-in with a thorny rosebush would attest.
“That’s what I get for wandering around with my eyes closed,” she grumbled.
It only took another second for her to realize that she knew this particular curve in the trail. Down the embankment and around the base of the large rock shelf was a clearing, directly opposite the small cave where she’d briefly hidden with Applejack and Rainbow Dash a day or two before.
Idly she wondered if the magic had meant to lead her here, or if it was only a coincidence. Regardless, she did faintly recall having lost a set of saddlebags nearby. Perhaps she’d be able to find them again.
Selecting another, less treacherous part of the embankment, she made her way down into the clearing behind and below the rock shelf. There was the stream where AJ and Rainbow had talked, the faint rune circles still burned into the undergrowth.
And the cave.
The cave itself seemed different than she remembered. When she’d sought shelter with Pinkie Pie, it had offered cool relief from a scalding rain of hot coffee. When she’d hid for the second time it was a calming respite from a panicky flight.
Now, the mouth of the cave gaped black and foreboding. Stalactites and stalagmites formed jagged teeth, waiting to devour anypony hapless enough to wander inside.
Twilight absently raised her hoof to rub against her left temple, where the barest hint of a headache was forming.
Still, something drew her to the cave, something she couldn’t describe. Ignoring the brief throb of pain in her horn, she cast a light spell and strode forward.
One thing that hadn’t changed was the cold, permeating and damp. It seemed to soak her coat and leach warmth from her very core. She shivered and decided to get out as soon as possible, once she’d found whatever it was she was looking for.
The search didn’t take long, unsurprisingly. The cave wasn’t very wide or deep, although the dense, cloying darkness made it seem much larger than it actually was. Propped against a large rock near the back of the cave, she found the saddlebags that had been abandoned when Princess Luna had caught her.
She sat on her haunches and pulled the bags closer to open one flap. Small canteen, empty. Some incidental toiletries, one woven shawl. She pulled the latter out and draped it around her shoulders to help offset the cold, then closed the flap.
Turning the bags around, she opened the other side. Her horn complained loudly about the double-duty it was having to pull by maintaining both the light spell and manipulating objects, especially with the monster of a headache she seemed to be nursing. Maybe Zecora could mix some herbs for her later.
She sifted through the contents. They were weighted more heavily, with one set of heavy socks, two books on chaos theory, and a small burlap sack.
Twilight’s heart skipped a beat when she saw the sack. She knew what it contained, what she’d very nearly forgotten in all the confusion of the last few days.
With trembling hooves, she reached in and pulled the sack out manually. It felt preternaturally heavy, more than she’d expected for its size. Even without directly using magic, she could feel the powerful, subtle spells coursing through the burlap, keeping the contents restrained.
Still foregoing magic, she gently pulled at the drawstring with her teeth. It loosened more readily than expected, and the top of the sack peeled open.
The Seeds of Discord remained just as she remembered them. Small, black, slightly misshapen. Innocuous. Innocent. She could probably just throw them in the back of the cave and forget they existed.
Her hoof was halfway back for the throw before a surge of harmony magic emanated from the gem on her necklace, just in time to stop herself from launching the seeds haphazardly into the dark. Careful to avoid spilling anything, she brought the sack back between both hooves. Her heart began pounding.
With a slight start, she noticed that the gem resting against her chest was suddenly glowing, casting warm light far beyond what her own light spell was doing. At the same moment, the burlap sack started vibrating in her hooves. To her horror the seeds within began to almost boil, rolling and curling like water in a pot.
Pushing past the near-splitting headache, she grabbed one of the seeds in her magic and brought it to eye level. It vibrated and twisted of its own accord, darkening the aura of her magic like blood in water.
For the briefest moment, she was back in Discord’s shockingly-normal office, staring at a golden coin that balanced vertically on the polished mahogany desk. The coin that had made her a forever slave to Discord’s chaos.
A small flame of indignant rage lit inside her. The empty husk of Twilight Sparkle had shambled out of that office indentured and broken. Chaos, for all she’d given it, had left her cold and empty, but she didn’t have to stay that way. There were friends waiting to fill the void with harmony and love and acceptance, if only she would let them.
Without a second thought, she levitated her Element of Harmony in front of the Seed of Discord and focused her thoughts.
Rarity, who offered me forgiveness even though I didn’t deserve it.
Her gem glowed, and the seed disintegrated to dust. She levitated another from the sack.
Fluttershy, who tended my wounds both physical and emotional.
The seed exploded in a tiny fiery flash. Another.
Pinkie Pie, who softened my heart with laughter and sympathy.
The seed peeled apart and withered grey. Another.
Rainbow Dash, who—
Twilight paused, suddenly at a loss. Rainbow had rejected her over and over again, and all she could think of were the angry rants, the kicked walls, the deliberate glances away at Applejack’s threats of violence.
The elemental gem flickered, and the seed vibrated furiously.
“No!” she cried, concentrating. She thought of the cell in Celestia’s dungeon, that was when they’d talked the most. They’d mostly argued, they’d laughed briefly, and argued again.
Then Twilight found it, that moment, ever so fleeting, when both she and Rainbow had come to an accord.
Rainbow Dash, who met my apology with her own.
Her element glowed a little weaker this time, and the seed fought, but finally snapped and cracked as it was crushed to powder.
Twilight realized she had broken out in a sweat. She blinked the burn out of her eyes and levitated the last seed. “Okay, here we go…”
Applejack.
Her brain locked up as every memory of the past several days came rushing in: The beating in the canyon, the lies to cover it up, the threats in the forest, and finally the attack in the library.
Of all the ponies she’d once called “friend”, Applejack had treated her the worst, had literally tried to kill her twice, and hadn’t once apologized.
No, that couldn’t be all. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think.
The seed hissed and writhed against her magic. It even seemed to grow a little, swelling and sprouting little nodules. The dark aura spread like a cancer through her magic, pressing on her mind.
She pushed back as hard as she could, fighting the physical and emotional pain in her own head. But try as she might, Twilight couldn’t find anything, past, present, or future, that would make up for the wrong Applejack had done, not even the token comforting hoof she’d extended under the broiling heat of Celestia’s sun-spell.
So if Applejack couldn’t make up for those things, how could they remain friends?
Then Twilight realized what she had to do. The only way she and Applejack could ever hope to be reconciled in the face of what had happened.
Bearing down until her head seemed like it would split open, she concentrated on the thought as hard as she could. The Element of Harmony glowed, and a thin beam of magic bisected the seed, slicing it neatly in two. Both halves fell to the ground, spasmed for a moment, and then withered away.
Twilight dropped the empty sack and gasped like she’d been holding her breath for hours. She slumped to the ground. Her forelegs were numb and trembling. Sweat dripped from her brows into her eyes. Her chest felt like it was going to burst if her heart didn’t stop pounding, pulse deafening in her ears.
On the plus side, her headache was completely gone.
She lay on the cave floor for some time, but eventually her heart slowed, her breathing returned to normal, and the feeling came back to her legs.
Pushing herself to a sitting position, she slowly and carefully inventoried her other belongings, rearranging them for weight and bulk. She transferred her journal, inkwell, and quill from the bookbag and folded it neatly into the saddlebags as well. The empty burlap sack she incinerated, kicking the ash in every direction.
When she emerged from the cave, it appeared to be quite some time later. The sun had dipped lower and was beginning to glow orange against the deepening blue of the sky.
Plenty of time to get back to Ponyville before dark, she thought as she moved toward the embankment below the trail.
“I suppose you must be rather proud of yourself.”
Twilight yelped in surprise. She whirled toward the source of the voice, but saw nothing there. Then a paw settled at the base of her skull and tightened gently.
She froze, not daring to turn around.
“I spent a literal lifetime cultivating those, you know. All that time and effort… poof! Just like that.”
She could feel hot breath brushing her mane and ear as it carried the words. Somehow the voice was different than she remembered, smoother and less gravelly, the throaty timbre slightly brighter.
Twilight gulped against the lump in her throat. “I— I had to do it.”
“No, you actually didn’t. You chose to. There’s a difference.” Discord paused a moment, then sighed. “Probably the first real decision you’ve made for yourself since this whole debacle started.”
Another paw moved close behind Twilight, barely brushing her coat as it traced the golden chain around her neck. “That’s a cute bauble you’ve got there,” Discord mused. “I like the metaphor, quite apt.”
The gem resting against Twilight’s chest seemed to warm and hum in response. She focused on the magic emanating from it, tried to draw strength and confidence into herself from the Element.
“I have a new life now,” she said softly. “I’m not your slave anymore.”
“Don’t kid yourself. You’re a slave all right, just not mine.”
A tiny flare of righteous indignation ignited in Twilight’s voice. “I have friends, something you’ve never—”
“Friends on which you are now utterly, completely, wholly dependent,” Discord cut her off, moving in closer behind her and jabbing a claw toward the pendant. “You see that little trinket? It doesn’t work without the rest of them. What happens when things go south, when something comes along you or they can’t forgive, can’t work out? When they abandon you, which they will, I want you to remember this moment as the one when you sold your soul to Harmony in exchange for a worthless crystal necklace.”
Twilight’s heart fluttered in her chest as the flame of indignation blew out. She fought the urge to gasp for breath. With all her will she focused on the Element for strength. “I don’t care,” she breathed, shaking her head though the gesture was dampened by Discord’s grasp on her neck. “I don’t want to go back to the way I was.”
“Good,” Discord growled. “Wouldn’t want you anyway. Can’t imagine why they do either.”
The words pierced into Twilight’s soul like daggers, threatening to draw tears instead of blood. Doubt rose bitter in her throat as she began to hyperventilate. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on her friends, her Element, Harmony, anything to block out the seeds Discord was trying to sow in her mind.
The grip on the back of Twilight’s neck flexed gently, claws just barely pricking below her jawline. A shudder ran through her body.
“What are you… going to… do?” she whispered. It was a fight just to keep her voice steady, one she seemed to be losing.
“See, that’s just it…” There was a small ping of magic and a familiar golden coin appeared, spinning slowly in mid-air. “I have no idea.”
Twilight gasped as the blood drained from her head and limbs.
“DISCORD!”
The presence behind Twilight fled so rapidly she nearly lost her balance. Above her on the embankment, the golden beams of the setting sun reflected from Celestia’s pearlescent coat, silhouetting the alicorn princess in fiery golden light that threatened to blind Twilight with its brilliance.
Spreading her wings, Celestia alighted from the embankment and swooped down into the clearing. She passed into the shadow of the rock outcropping, but even in the waning half-light she seemed to practically glow.
“Art thou unharmed?”
Twilight nodded weakly. The bloodflow hadn’t yet returned to her trembling knees.
Celestia circled around Twilight to face the shadowed cave entrance. “Explain thyself, trickster!” she called into the dark.
“Just catching up with my former student,” Discord’s lolling voice replied. If Twilight squinted, she could almost see the draconequus curled in the depths of the cave, a golden coin glinting and turning between his claws. “She’s overdue for her annual performance review, you know.”
Catching Celestia’s sidelong glance, Twilight shook her head violently. She scooted closer, and the princess’s wing draped over her protectively.
“She hath nothing to say unto thee,” Celestia said, “and if thou valuest thy corporeal form it would serve thee well to leave her in peace.”
A cold, mirthless laugh echoed from the cave. “You’ve got nothing on me,” Discord chuckled. “At best we’re equals now, thanks to your plucky band of bleeding hearts and their arsenal of weaponized costume jewelry.”
“And they shall not hesitate to use that power again, should the need arise!” Celestia shot back. “If thou fearest not me, it wouldst serve thee well to fear them.”
When Discord didn’t reply, Celestia nudged Twilight toward the embankment. They followed the gentler half of the slope back up to the trail, where the final rays of sunlight were beginning to fade below the horizon.
Just as Twilight’s hooves had settled on the familiar path, Discord’s voice rang out from the clearing. “We’ll talk later, Celestia!” he called. “Don’t go getting any delusions of grandeur just yet!”
The two ponies walked in silence for awhile, Discord’s last words seeming to echo around them.
For Twilight, it was the first time she’d been alone with Celestia since the battle. They hadn’t spoken except in brief meetings to coordinate the early stages of disaster management with Ivory Scroll and other civic-minded ponies. Cleanup and rebuilding had already gotten well-underway within the last 24 hours or so, thanks to the town’s existing infrastructure for dealing with Chaos events.
Up close, the princess was far less imposing than before. Although she still towered over most normal ponies, it was no longer by an order of magnitude. Her formerly sharp, angular features had rounded and softened, as if she’d been unevenly de-aged in some fashion by the magic of the Elements. Her plain pink mane drooped loose and unstyled, and her coat and tail were in sore need of a brushing.
Lost in her own thoughts, Twilight found herself wishing more and more that the princess wasn’t here. Wishing that Celestia would just fly off and leave her alone. Wishing she could simply teleport away into the darkness and be alone again. Not because she needed solitude, but because the princess’s very presence was eating at her.
“I perceive thou art troubled,” Celestia said, breaking the silence.
Twilight nodded stiffly. “You could say that.”
“Do not fear the boastings of that creature,” Celestia began. “His words are poison, but he—”
“Actually I was thinking more about how you nearly broiled everyone alive yesterday.”
The break in Celestia’s gait was miniscule, but Twilight knew she’d struck a chord.
“I mean,” Twilight continued, “how did you think that would be okay, even compared to what Discord was doing? It doesn’t seem like something remotely in line with Harmony.”
“No,” Celestia agreed. “No, it is not.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “I come from a time long past, Twilight Sparkle. Even in a world of Chaos, thy values hath made mine seem… savage.” She spat after the last word, seemingly in self-disgust. “In return, the Elements of Harmony hath seen fit to levy punishment for my sins.”
So that’s what happened, Twilight thought. The blast of Harmony magic had somehow weakened both Celestia and Discord as they were caught in its path, to say nothing of whatever it had done to Nightmare Moon.
The breaking of the silence felt cathartic in a way, and Twilight ventured to voice her own question. “What did he mean by that?” she asked. “That you two would ‘talk later’?”
To her left, Celestia sighed heavily. “It means our victory was not absolute,” she said. “Discord still roams free, his magic lives in the earth, and many ponies still hath sworn unto him their loyalty. I fear long shall be the days until Harmony is truly returned.”
“But he’s willing to work with you?”
“I canst not say,” Celestia replied with a shrug. “He appears greatly changed since last I knew him. Perhaps he may listen to reason. Perhaps not. All that remains is to try.”
They walked in silence for a few more minutes. The last glow of the sun was fading, and Celestia summoned a light spell to illuminate their path.
“Princess?” Twilight said, breaking the silence again. “If you don’t mind me asking, I’ve been wondering: Why was Luna so angry with you?”
Celestia paused mid-stride. A strange expression crossed her face, something impossible to make out in the unusual magic light. A moment later she resumed walking. A few times she opened her mouth as if preparing to speak, then closed it without a word.
Several minutes later, just when Twilight was about to despair of ever hearing an explanation, the princess stopped again and turned to face her.
“The things I show unto thee are of great personal importance,” Celestia said softly. “I trust they shall be respected and shared with care.”
Twilight nodded.
The princess hesitated another moment, then moved to a patch of underbrush by the side of the trail. Twilight followed and mirrored Celestia’s motions, kneeling in the soft, overgrown grass.
Celestia closed her eyes and muttered a brief incantation. The sounds of the forest grew muffled, and the trees faded into a diffuse blur. Runes etched into the grass, and Twilight could see a faint spherical shell enclosing them protectively.
The light at the tip of Celestia’s horn faded, leaving them lit only by the faint golden glow of the runes and even fainter diffuse light of the shield itself. The princess leaned forward in a familiar motion, and Twilight bent her head until their horns met.
Twilight was prepared for the surge of shared thoughts this time and braced herself. Within moments she found Celestia. They navigated the flow together until Celestia stopped and nudged Twilight into an eddy.
The scene changed. She found herself in a wide field, verdant and lush unlike anything she’d ever seen in her life. Her young sister, dark and elegant, pranced and leapt in the distance with several smaller ponies. They were playing, it seemed.
She looked up. Towering above her was the form of another alicorn, but her features were obscured and abstract. The impression was of transcendent beauty and infinite understanding, lustrous white and flowing crimson, powerful and gentle beyond compare.
The form spoke, a glorious voice pealing like bells yet rolling like thunder. The words, such as they were, were unspeakable, but carried a feeling of immense sorrow and dread to the hearer’s soul.
The images faded, and Twilight found herself a separate entity again. Celestia led her further, into another memory.
She was within a cave, dark and cold yet not unwelcoming. The only source of light was a small, crystalline shape in the form of a sapling. Etched on it were words she could not read, and that faded when she tried to focus on them.
To her side, a voice cried out. She turned just in time to see a flash of midnight blue disappear into the darkness, wailing incoherently. Into her heart settled a sadness deeper than she’d ever known.
The scene shifted more quickly this time. A room, details blurred and forgotten, but with a wide door leading to a balcony. She watched her sister pace and stomp, struggled to control her own building rage.
The dark alicorn motioned wide to the village sprawled below, and cried words that rang surprisingly clear. “It’s not fair! Why do they love you, and not me?!”
“I don’t know!” she heard herself shout in response. “I cannot control their hearts!”
“But you bask in their love while I slave over a sky none wake to adore!”
“That is not my fault!” She bit her lip, but more words burst forth, biting and cruel. “If that is how shallowly you see things, then maybe She shouldn't have blessed you in the first place!”
Her sister gasped and recoiled. The words suddenly wanted nothing more than to crawl back into thoughts, but they had flown. Dark wings spread to hide falling tears, then beat mightily, blowing the memory away to emptiness.
A shift. Her eyes blinked in the bright sunlight as she looked over the crowd. Pride swelled her breast, hollow and bitter. The faces below were featureless, blending together in a patchwork of colorful bodies, but the voices echoed in sharp clarity.
“Celestia returned!”
“Hail the Heavenly Mother!”
“Praise be to her name!”
“Celestia! Celestia! Glory to Celestia on high!”
The words pierced her heart like knives, yet she smiled and shone as the sun. They had what they wanted, the manifestation in flesh of the goddess their ancestors had slain, and none dared to question her will.
The memory changed again, and she stared into the dark, helmed face of the sister she’d nearly forgotten.
“Half a millennium gone and you return on the eve of battle,” she said as armor and weapons assembled around her. “Have you cast your lot with him that would seek to destroy me?”
Her sister scoffed. “I come to you from beyond the seas and mountains, from lands you have never seen nor heard rumor of, from a place where I was safe and loved and none tortured my ears with your name. No, it could not possibly be because I miss my sister or wish to help her.”
She stifled the rage rising within and sighed. “My mind is full of other things, and I cannot argue the past with you now. Evil is coming to ravage this land, so I ask: Will you stand with me tonight for the sake of those I have sworn to protect?”
A pause, then a nod. “I will.”
“Good. Armor you have, weapons you will find with the guards. Speak my name and they will give you whatever you need.”
“In that case, one more thing I must know.” Her sister’s voice was soft, but rumbled with hidden dangers. “I have walked dreams and heard whispers in the night. They speak of a treachery, a betrayal I dare not imagine, so I wish to hear it from your lips before I believe it. Tell me, sister, what do they call you these days?”
A great howl split the air, and the wall of the palace ceased to exist. The sky outside filled with unspeakable horrors, descending as far as her eyes could reach. A hellish chorus of terrified screams rose into the air as the city below fell victim to incomprehensible destruction.
Then a creature appeared, amorphous and alien, it’s very impossible existence unmaking reality in its wake. It reached out, and its claws wrapped her in cold, rigid, unyielding darkness.
Twilight jolted awake. It took her a moment to reconnect with herself, to remember the soft, cool grass under her belly and the body that seemed momentarily too small. Her vision was shrouded in darkness. It took several tries before she was able to locate her magic. Finally she found it, and the spell illuminated her horn.
In the faint light Princess Celestia appeared, lying on her side within touching distance. Her eyes were tightly closed, but twisting rivulets of tears ran down her cheeks and traced her jaw to fall on the grass like rain. Her whole body shook with racking gasps, and her lips trembled as she bit down to stifle the whimpers in her throat.
“I— I couldn’t save them,” she whispered. “I couldn’t save her and now she’s g-gone again!”
Twilight sat in awkward silence for a moment before speaking. “You… you made mistakes,” she offered gently. “Everypony makes mistakes, but you didn't force her to do anything.”
“Mistakes.” Celestia wiped her snout and took a shuddering breath as she raised herself to a more dignified position. “A broken dish may be called a ‘mistake.’ A wrong turn may be called a ‘mistake.’ Those do not ravage worlds and destroy untold millions of lives. Her actions were born from my own, and those… there is no word for those.”
They both fell silent, save for an occasional sniffle.
After several moments, Twilight spoke again. “In the first memory you showed me, the pony I couldn’t see: Was that…?”
“Yes. That was Her.” The princess wiped at her cheeks and stared into the indistinct dark of the forest for several moments. “I cannot say why I thought to supplant Her, why I tried to take Her glory. All for my own selfish pride.” She choked on the words. “Twilight… I cannot even remember Her face! I took Her name and Her throne, and now She's left me as well!” A fresh wave of sobs broke the night air.
Within her chest, Twilight’s heart swelled, and she made no effort to restrain the tears that burned her own cheeks. She pondered the memories, the emotions she’d felt and the words she’d heard. She knew that she’d only been given the briefest glimpse into those memories, and did not envy the crushing responsibility they held. Those were things the princess would carry for eternity, that only she could come to terms with in her own time.
But perhaps in some small, momentary, insignificant way, Twilight could offer comfort.
She reached out and rested her hoof on the princess's shoulder, hoping the gesture was appropriate. “Would it help…” she began, halting and unsure. “…Would it help if I called you by your real name instead?”
The princess turned to look at Twilight. Her eyes shimmered again and another series of silent sobs wracked her shoulders. She nodded.
Scooting forward, Twilight wrapped Solaria in a tight embrace. The princess tensed initially, but a moment later she leaned in and returned the gesture as her tears soaked into Twilight’s mane.
In the back of Twilight’s mind, a tiny voice echoed. Sometimes, everypony just needs a hug.
“Do you want to come in with me?”
They were standing just outside the circle of light from Fluttershy and Zecora’s cottage. It was one of the few buildings in Ponyville that hadn’t suffered any damage during the battle, and the Element bearers had met there earlier to discuss the events of the past several days. Apparently they were still there, muffled voices drifting through the walls and into the night.
Solaria shook her head at Twilight’s question. “No, there are other tasks I must attend to,” she said. “Besides, I fear my presence would be a distraction from the things you wish to say.”
Much as she hated to admit it, Twilight knew Solaria was right. Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath and strode toward the house.
“Oh, and Twilight?”
Twilight paused and turned.
“Keep me appraised? Long and weary shall be the days ahead, and it would be well for me to hear good tidings from time to time.” Solaria smiled gently.
“I will,” Twilight replied, returning the smile. “Good night, princess.”
“Good night, Twilight Sparkle.”
Turning back toward the house, Twilight continued forward. With each step, the reality of what she had to do became more and more frightening, but she pressed on against the fear.
As she approached the cottage, the muffled voices within became more distinct and she began to make out words.
“... is difficult, but how else do you expect to work it out?” Rarity was saying.
“Ain’t that I don’t want to,” Applejack said, “but it’s jus’ not that simple!”
“Yeah, I mean how do you say something like that?” Rainbow agreed.
A quiet voice that must have been Fluttershy mumbled something indistinct.
“Well sure, sounds easy enough coming from you,” Applejack grumbled.
Reaching the house, Twilight stepped onto the porch. At the sound of hooves on wood, the voices inside suddenly cut off. The obvious correlation made her hesitate, but she forced herself to walk up to the door and tap softly.
“I’ll get it!” Light hooves trotted into the entryway. The latch rattled, and the door swung open to reveal Pinkie Pie. “Twilight!” she exclaimed, leaping forward and wrapping Twilight in a crushing hug. “We were wondering when you were going to show up!”
Twilight chuckled awkwardly and returned Pinkie’s hug. It felt good to know that of all the ponies here, at least one was unabashedly happy to see her. She noted the thin gold chain draped around Pinkie’s neck, holding a finely-cut gem similar to Twilight’s own.
“Come on in, we’ve got tea and cookies,” Pinkie said, releasing the hug and motioning her inside. “I managed to salvage some Sweet Wheats from the Sugar Polyhedron; Mister Cake said they can’t sell the stuff that fell on the floor, so he let me have them for free… as long as I don’t let anypony without my constitution eat them, whatever that means.”
She whispered the last sentence and nudged Twilight in the ribs with a conspiratorial wink.
“That sounds… great,” Twilight replied, stepping into the small foyer.
“They’re in the sitting room,” Pinkie said, pointing. “I’ll run to the kitchen and get you a cup and saucer. HEY EVERYPONY! TWILIGHT’S HERE!” She bounded down the entry hall and around a corner, leaving Twilight alone by the front door.
With a deep breath to steady her nerves, Twilight stepped to the entrance of the sitting room. Rainbow Dash and Rarity were sitting reclined on cushions around the low coffee table. Fluttershy and Zecora were snuggled on one end of the couch. Applejack sat stiffly on the other end, conspicuously looking anywhere but at Twilight. Like Pinkie, they all wore simple gold chain necklaces set with their respective gems.
Unsurprisingly, the plate of Sweet Wheat cookies on the table appeared completely untouched.
“…Hey girls,” Twilight said, waving weakly. “Hope I’m not crashing the party.”
“Not at all, dear,” Rarity said, getting to her hooves. She trotted over and offered a brief hug, then steered Twilight into the room. “We were actually hoping you’d show up. Here, have a seat.” She pulled a chair from the wall then returned to her cushion by the coffee table, sitting instead of reclining this time.
Twilight took the offered chair. She smiled as genuinely as possible at the faces around her. Fluttershy briefly returned the smile in full, while Zecora gave a half-smile and a nod. Rainbow waved weakly and half-smiled with a sidelong glance. Applejack didn’t look at her or smile, but merely nodded acknowledgment.
Silence settled over the room.
Rarity coughed. “Um, yes… well, now that the ‘pleasantries’ are out of the way, it’s a good thing you’ve shown up, darling. We were just discussing a few things, and Applejack has something she’d like to say to you.”
“That’s actually why I’m here,” Twilight said. It took monumental effort to keep her voice from wavering. “There’s something I wanted to say to Applejack too.”
For the first time, Applejack turned from studying the drapes and looked at Twilight. Her expression was a mask, betraying nothing she might have felt.
“Oh!” Rarity exclaimed. “Well, that’s good! Um… would either of you prefer to go first?”
Silence. Twilight stared the plate of dusty cookies, trying to avoid Applejack’s inscrutable poker face.
After a few moments, Rarity sighed in exasperation. “Fine. Applejack, you go first, dear.”
Applejack’s expression cracked and she huffed indignantly at Rarity. “Why do I gotta go first!?”
“Because we already know what you need to say,” Fluttershy piped up from the end of the couch, “and it’s better to get it out now in case Twilight needs to change what she plans to say.” She looked pointedly at Twilight, her eyes carrying an implicit warning.
Rainbow groaned and rolled her eyes. “Just… get it over with AJ,” she said.
With a heavy sigh, Applejack left the couch and circled the coffee table. She sat on her haunches a few paces away, looking at the floor. Close up, Twilight could see the gem in Applejack’s pendant was still cracked down the center, hairline fractures muddling what would have been a radiant orange core.
“Twilight, I—” Applejack began, then trailed off. Her mouth continued working silently for a moment, then she looked up into Twilight’s eyes. “I let my temper get way outta hoof, and… I did things I can’t take back. I don’t expect anythin’ can make that right, but I wanted to say—”
Twilight stepped off her chair and closed the distance in two strides. She wrapped her legs around Applejack’s shoulders and pulled her close.
“—I’m sorry?” Applejack’s voice trailed into a confused question.
“I forgive you,” Twilight whispered, “and I’m sorry too.”
For a moment nopony moved. Then she felt Applejack’s forelegs shift up and wrap tentatively around her.
In an instant, Twilight’s heart seemed to swell with relief and joy. She squeezed Applejack tighter. A deep shuddering breath wracked Applejack’s chest, and Twilight felt something damp on the side of her neck.
A subtle hum and tingle of magic made them jump. Both ponies pulled away and glanced down, just in time to see a faint glow wash over Applejack’s gem.
When the glow faded, the crack had disappeared.
For several seconds they looked between each other and the gem, eyes wide. Then Applejack’s mouth twitched into a half-smile and she chuckled. “H-how ‘bout that?” she said, wiping her eyes self-consciously.
“Yeah, wow…” was all Twilight could say. Her heart was fluttering inexplicably at the far-too-timely manifestation of Harmony magic. She dabbed her own eyes. “Um… how’s your little sister?” she asked.
Applejack sniffed. “A little shaken still, but she’s a tough filly. She and Spike are upstairs sleepin’.”
“I’d like to talk to her tomorrow and apologize,” Twilight said gently. “If that’s okay with you.”
With a nod, Applejack patted Twilight on the shoulder. “Sure thing.” She dabbed her eyes once more, then returned to the couch. “There, got it over with,” she said to Rainbow, but the smile she briefly flashed at Twilight was sincere.
Twilight glanced around the room, feeling more than a little self-conscious. Fluttershy was positively beaming at her. Rarity looked like she was about to burst into tears. Zecora smiled again, and this time it was full and genuine.
“Um, since we’re doing this thing…” Rainbow stood up and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for the stuff I said before.” She stuck out one hoof. “We cool?”
If it were possible, Twilight’s heart grew even fuller. She felt herself beaming at Rainbow as joy suffused through her veins. With tears gently pricking at her eyes again, she bumped Rainbow’s hoof with her own. “Yeah… We’re cool.”
At that moment, Pinkie Pie came bounding out of the kitchen, a teacup and saucer stuffed securely into her dense mane. “Whew, sorry that took so long!” she exclaimed. “Your cupboards make no sense, Zecora.” Then she spotted the beaming faces and damp cheeks, and her jaw dropped. “WHAT? Don’t tell me I missed the big reconciliation!”
The other ponies began to chuckle, and Twilight felt as if she would burst. This was what she’d been missing. This was where she belonged, with ponies who loved her and that she loved in return.
“Um, Zecora,” Twilight said, after the chuckles had subsided and the hot tea was placed before her. “Do you have some parchment I can borrow? I need to pen a letter.”
Long after the two ponies disappeared over the rise, Discord stared after them from the shadows of the clearing. He twirled the gold coin absently, pondering what was to come next.
Of course he wasn’t about to just hand over his entire empire to the first demi-goddess who came along, even if she had nearly bested him. His loyal supporters numbered thousands, his magic ran deep in the earth, and none of that would change if she were to lock him in stone for another millennium. Besides, what would it accomplish? Just another mad power struggle when he eventually freed himself?
No, she needed him if she was going to have any hope of carving out a place for herself in this world. She knew it as well as he did, and he fully expected her to reach out in the coming weeks to work out some kind of deal.
He hadn’t decided yet how he wanted to approach it. Help her? Actively subvert her? Get out of her way and just let events unfold? Maybe all three. Each option held so many intriguing possibilities in a world that had gotten ironically stale for his tastes.
For starters, there was the Princess of the Sun herself. She intrigued him more than anything. He’d never really gotten a chance to know her before, what with the surprise attack and all. It would be quite fascinating to take things a little slower this time, see what made her tick, especially now that the Elements of Harmony had gone and made them essentially equals. That did annoy him somewhat, but the damage was done and he might as well make the best of it.
A silvery light crested the trees above, and the moon crept into view.
Discord glanced up, studying the curious new pattern of dark craters pitting its surface. If he squinted, it was almost possible to imagine they formed the silhouette of an alicorn’s head in profile.
Of all the things he’d planned for, that hadn’t been one of them. He’d fully expected Luna to freak out again and betray her sister, but had completely underestimated the sheer hatred she carried in her heart, to say nothing of the powerful dark magic she’d somehow harnessed on her own. Idly he wondered how long Solaria would keep her up there, and what new terrors the world would know when and if Nightmare Moon were ever released.
And then there was Twilight.
He stopped twirling the coin. She had surprised him. He’d known for years that something was different about that pony. She didn’t fit into his world, no matter how much she’d wanted to. He’d humored her desires, tried to mold her, but every time she seemed close to a breakthrough she’d just crawl right back into her little box of order. It stung to count her as a loss on his scoreboard, but now that she’d finally found a place to call home, watching her would be almost as fun as Solaria, if not moreso.
Plus, since she now seemed to bear the enigmatic sixth Element, it seemed wise to keep an eye out and avoid drawing her ire. Being encased in stone wasn’t all that bad aside from the whole not-moving-but-still-aware thing, but it was definitely low on the list of vacations he wanted to take.
He eventually realized he’d been standing in the clearing far longer than intended. News of the Sky-Mares violent return would have spread across the empire by now, and his lackeys were probably in a panic wondering where he was. Time to return to his throne and do some damage control in the interim.
He looked down at the golden coin in his paw and considered it for a moment. Then he flicked it into the air and watched it bounce twice on the earth before settling.
A smile cracked his misshapen face. “Now that could be interesting.”
With a flash the Lord of Chaos vanished, leaving the clearing empty and silent.