After their second teatime had gone well, Twilight boldly suggested they make it a regular item on both their schedules.
And it had been wonderful. Just like the old days. Well, not just like them. Celestia hadn’t called her ‘faithful student’ because that wasn’t her position anymore. And Twilight had to remember not refer to Celestia as ‘Princess’. It wouldn’t have been appropriate between ‘equals’, and besides Celestia teased her about it since they both held the same title. It was also disrespectful to Luna and Cadance to refer to Celestia as ‘Princess’ in capital letters as if she were the only one.
Twilight landed in the courtyard of Canterlot Castle, after this week’s flight from Ponyville. Her eyes were bright and her muzzle lit with a wide smile. “Seventeen minutes,” she mused. “A new record for me.”
She nodded at her escort of Royal Guard pegasi. They saluted, then took to the sky and resumed their patrol over the castle.
In the courtyard, Raven Inkwell, Celestia’s private secretary, met Twilight when she landed. Raven was a bespeckled white unicorn mare, with a white collar and red tie. She carried a schedule book in her magic.
“Good afternoon Princess Twilight,” Raven said, looking at her over the tops of her half-glasses. “Princess Celestia will receive you in her chambers this afternoon.”
Twilight started. “Her chambers... not the garden. Of course… Thank you.”
Raven smiled and nodded at her, as Twilight headed up the stairs in Celestia's tower. They led to her chambers high above.
Twilight worried about the change in routine. Was there something Celestia wanted to say in the privacy of her chambers? Had she tired of teatime already, and wanted to send Twilight away without embarrassing her in front of the entire castle?
The two guards in front of the doors to Celestia's chambers came to attention, as Twilight approached. “You’re expected, Princess Twilight,” the senior guard said, as they opened the doors.
Twilight was sure her heart skipped a beat as she stepped in and the guards closed the doors behind her.
Upon Twilight's entrance, Celestia lit up in a warm smile. Twilight's heart gratefully resumed its normal rhythm.
Twilight considered herself a connoisseur of Celestia's smiles. She knew the royal smile Celestia put on for her little ponies and the teacher smile that Celestia put on when working with a student. She knew her slightly predatory cake smile and the contented tea smile Celestia got from the first whiff of her favorite blend. She knew the family smile that seeing Cadance, Shining Armor, and Flurry Heart elicited and the sister smile that Luna brought out of Celestia.
“I know it’s impossible optimism and overwhelming ego,” Twilight thought, “but sometimes I think the one she’s got now is the smile she saves just for me.”
“Welcome Twilight,” Celestia said. “I thought we might try something different today. Would you be up for taking in some extraordinary vistas?”
“That sounds amazing,” Twilight said.
“Join me on the balcony.” Celestia strode to the railing. Twilight joined her.
From atop the highest tower in Canterlot, she could see the entire city laid out before her. Buildings of pale lavender stone, topped with glistening golden minarets, hugged the side of the Canterhorn. The great waterfalls adjacent to the castle sparkled in the sun. Beyond the city, down in the valleys and beyond, the green and verdant land rolled off to the horizon. In the far distance, Twilight could see sunlight winking off of her own crystal castle in Ponyville. Shimmering rainbows wreathed the proud city of Cloudsdale. On the streets below and in the sky's above, ponies looked like small dots, going about their lives.
“The view here is magnificent,” Twilight said.
“That it is,” Celestia replied. “But I was thinking of a wider vista.”
Celestia reached a wingtip toward Twilight. Uncertainly, Twilight extended her wing in return. When they touched, the afternoon sun seemed to rush toward them out of the sky. In an instant, its blinding radius engulfed them.
The wash of yellow light and heat did not burn. Some part of Twilight that was earth pony felt the sensation of changing location. A part of her that was pegasus felt no acceleration or velocity. And a part of her that was unicorn knew this magic was different from any teleportation she’d ever experienced.
The blinding yellow light and heat faded like smoke, replaced by white glare off crystal snow and a bitterly cold gale. Twilight could see little as she squinted into the sharp light and piercing wind. Her teeth chattered and body shivered from the cold. Twilight's mane and tail whipped back and forth and pulled painfully on her scalp.
From the way the wind hit her from below and in front, Twilight's pegasus senses told her she stood on the edge of some great abyss. Her hooves found no purchase on the icy rock and she began to tumble forward.
“Careful Twilight,” Celestia said, concern in her voice. She extended a wing across Twilight's barrel to steady her. “We need to get you some boots that have better traction than your bare hooves.”
Twilight locked all four legs to gain a semblance of stability. Body still shivering, she gazed up at her fellow princess.
Celestia looked as calm and regal as if she were standing in the throne room. Her footing was sure, her eyes open and bright, and her ethereal mane and tail waved serenely, unaffected by the gale force winds.
“The warmth of the sun is particularly comforting in an environment such as this,” Celestia said.
“The sun may be warm, but I’m freezing,” Twilight forced out through chattering teeth. Her eyes darted about, looking for cover. Seeing none, Twilight lit her horn and cast a translucent magenta shield bubble around herself to keep off the wind.
Celestia noticed Twilight’s distress. “Your shield seems to have helped, but perhaps I could lend a hoof as well?”
Twilight looked up with pleading eyes and nodded. She opened a hole in her shield bubble. Celestia’s horn lit and a golden glow encircled Twilight. Instantly, the air about her was toasty warm; Twilight sighed in relief. Celestia doused her horn and Twilight closed her shield to keep the heat from leaking out.
She frantically searched through the catalog of magic in her head and identified some that could help. “Clover’s Cocoon will bind the warm air close to my body,” she decided, “and Starswirl’s Superb Sight can help with the glare.”
After she cast the additional spells, Twilight dropped her shield and opened her eyes fully. The white glare off the snow was no longer so overwhelming and the freezing cold no longer stung. Her mane and tail still whipped in the fierce winds though.
Straight down the mountain before her, Twilight could see the golden minarets of Canterlot and the giant waterfalls flanking the city. “We're atop the Canterhorn,” she exclaimed. “I've never been at this altitude before. This is the highest point in Equestria, south of the Crystal Mountains.”
Beyond the city, Twilight could see what was visible from Celestia's balcony, and much, much more. Through the clear mountain air, her eyes could roam all the way to the Smoky Mountains in the west, and the Macintosh Hills to the south. She could even see the tops of the highest structures in Las Pegasus, peeking over the intervening hills.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Celestia took in a deep breath and lowered her head to Twilight’s eye level. “Perhaps we should save the rest of our tour for another time.”
“I’m feeling fine now. I’d like to keep going!” Twilight bobbed her head vigorously and her mane whipped around even more in the wind.
Celestia nodded. “Alright. The higher one goes, the more encompassing the view.” She extended her great wings into the wind. “Come, fly with me.”
Celestia launched herself into the sky, swiftly catching the thermal rising from the city below, and climbed away to the east.
Twilight started in surprise for only a moment, then grinned, locked eyes on Celestia, and leaped after her. “I almost never get to fly with Celestia,” Twilight thought. She grinned as her wings caught the same thermal.
Celestia soared into the thin mountain air. The sun sparked off of her pearlescent wings and coat, the touch of pink in them clear against the blue of the sky. Celestia’s ethereal mane and tail blended seamlessly from jade and lilac into a long golden trail of magic that streamed behind her.
Twilight marveled at Celestia's wings. They were works of art really. National treasures. Worthy of their many depictions in museums and statuary gardens across Equestria. They were larger and more beautiful than any wings Twilight had seen on another equine. Celestia's primaries where as long as her own wings. And her secondaries were big enough to cover an entire pony.
Twilight hurried after Celestia, a magenta trail of magic behind her a testament to her efforts.
The top of the Canterhorn was higher than Cloudsdale, and the puffy stratus and cumulus clouds that made up the city. But it was far below the wispy cirrus clouds at the top of the sky. Celestia seemed intent on reaching or exceeding them.
After they passed the tops of the cirrus clouds, Celestia spread her wings wide into a glide. Twilight beat her wings a few extra times to catch up and then began to glide beside her. Both of their magical trails faded away.
Before them lay the entire east coast of Equestria. Twilight gaped, eyes wide. The great pony cities of Manehattan, Fillydelphia, and Baltimare were just beginning to light up in the dusk.
“The industriousness of our ponies never ceases to amaze me,” Celestia said as they took in the view. “I remember when we’d be lucky to see a single bonfire from up here.”
The longer they looked, the more details Twilight saw. The whitecaps atop the waves in Horseshoe Bay were cut by a great ship and they sparkled in the dying light. Between Fillydelphia and Baltimare a long freight train taking goods between the cities illuminated its path with a powerful light. Vast fields dotted the forests of Equestria’s breadbasket west of Manehattan.
“You’ve dedicated lifetimes to all the ponies down there,” Twilight said.
“And every time you’ve help save Equestria, you’ve protected them and many, many, more,” Celestia replied. She lit her horn and the western horizon glowed red, as the sun began its slow descent.
“Come Twilight, there is more to see.” Celestia resumed her climbing flight to the east. Twilight followed.
The long ascent went on and on. The thermal petered out, and the air got thin. Twilight's breathing labored, struggling. It wasn’t enough. Celestia's magnificent wings grew smaller in her sight, as the larger princess continued her climb.
Twilight’s previous joy turned ashen in her mouth as she fell behind. Her wings were burning, her chest on fire. She was failing a test, failing Celestia. And that was anamatha, unacceptable.
If Twilight's wings were not enough, perhaps her magic could suffice. She took in the greatest gulp of cold thin air that she could manage, charged her horn, and shot a magenta beam of force behind her. In an equal but opposite reaction, Twilight rocketed up like a firework, until she matched Celestia's altitude.
But Twilight could climb no more. The air in her lungs was too thin. She was too light headed to focus on any more magic. And her wings could find little to beat against. The spells that kept her warm and helped her sight faded.
Celestia heard the boom from Twilight's magic. She watched Twilight rise and then dip as she began to falter. Celestia locked her wings into a glide and flew even with Twilight.
“I'm sorry Celestia,” Twilight panted. “This is as high as I can go.”
Celestia smiled at her. “We can return anytime.” But then she looked at Twilight with a twinkle in her eye. “But what if a friend could sustain you and give your wings purchase? You need not fly alone, Twilight.”
“A friend?” she said. The thin air made it hard to concentrate. Was Celestia offering assistance? Twilight waved her forelegs to pantomime some kind of clumsy hold. “I’m not sure what you’re suggesting.”
Celestia looked quizzical. “Why do you not take advantage of the sun's gifts?”
The half set sun painted the horizon red. “Which gifts do you mean?”
“Twilight,” Celestia said with force in her voice, “I know for a fact you first raised and set both sun and moon years ago. With your aptitude and curiosity, I’m sure you’ve perfected your connection by now.”
“I just touched the sun that one time.” Twilight’s eyes darted toward the sun and back to Celestia. “When I held your power to keep it from Tirek.”
Celestia shook her head. “You’ve not reached out to the sun since that day?”
“No! I wouldn’t… I mean, you’re the princess of the sun! I would never impinge on your prerogative.” Twilight tried to make herself clear. “Anyway, I’m just the Princess of Friendship, I don’t do cosmic things like contacting the sun.”
“My... prerogative?” Celestia looked at her sadly. “Twilight, the sun is my friend. I greet the sun each morning to help it rise and thank it each evening to help it set. And all alicorns can reach out to the sun. I would never begrudge the two of you becoming friends. As you yourself once wrote me, friendship shared is friendship doubled.”
Twilight staggered under the weight of the worst feeling in the world; she’d disappointed the Princess. Twilight knew this was the worst because it’s what the Black Mirror had shown her when it paralyzed her with her deepest fear.
She gazed at Celestia, her eyes moist; whether from the thin air or from disappointing Celestia, she didn’t know. “I didn't know I was supposed to. I didn’t know I could.”
The dark feeling in her barrel grew until it was a deep abyss. “It's been years since then. What if I’ve insulted the sun by staying away? What if it's too late?”
Celestia spoke very quietly, but her voice was clear, even through the thin air. “Celestial bodies do not quibble over spans of years. Their time horizons are infinitely longer than that. And you are very good at making friends. Just be open and true to what you believe in your heart.”
“How do I contact the sun?” Twilight whispered.
“How did you do it the last time you reached out?”
Twilight took in a gulp of thin freezing air and shuddered. She snorted and her breath condensed in great white plumes. Twilight tried to recreate the feeling of reaching out to contact the sun and the moon. She summoned her magic, squinted to focus as close to the late afternoon sun as she dared look, and in her mind projected, “Hello?”
There was no reply.
“I know it’s been a long time since I last contacted you,” Twilight whispered in her mind. “I meant no disrespect. I didn't know it would be OK to reach out.”
The silence in her mind went beyond the lack of a reply. It was like a yawning chasm, where her words echoed pitifully.
“Celestia says that you and she are friends. I'm so happy to hear that. For all that the ponies love her, I think sometimes Celestia is very lonely, and she needs true friends.”
The chasm slowly filled with a presence. Something was listening, even if it had yet not deigned to reply.
“Celestia was the first pony outside my family that I ever wanted to impress, that I ever wanted as a mentor and a friend. Anything that makes her happier, makes me smile.”
The presence felt closer now like it was leaning in.
“Celestia says she thanks you every evening. I’d like to thank you as well.
“Thank you for your light and warmth. Thank you for providing the energy for all the ponies and creatures and living things on this world.
“Thank you for sunrises and sunsets. For rainbows and sun-dappled ponds. For light to read by. For sun-warmed stone and cool shadows, for shade doesn’t exist without the light.
“And thank you for being Celestia's friend. As she reminded me, friendship shared is friendship doubled. And if you would have me, I would like to share your friendship. Because I think it would make Celestia happier and I hope it would make you happier as well.”
The presence flowed up and out of the chasm and filled the abyss in the pit of Twilight’s barrel until light and warmth replaced the empty feeling inside her. Twilight felt enveloped and protected. She took in a great breath of... something... with real substance, more than just the thin air. When she released a contented sigh there was no condensation. Swiftly, her mind cleared and the exhaustion in her body faded. It was as if she’d dunked her head in a water trough.
Celestia wore the smile that said she was proud of Twilight. “It looks like you’ve made a new friend.”
“It seems I have,” Twilight replied. Her own voice was clear now, even through the thin air. Her body no longer shivered, nor did her teeth chatter. Her wings found purchase on something more than air as well. And the medium was not neutral. Twilight found an updraft, and with wings pumping, rocketed upward. She left a long magenta trail of magic behind her. “Let’s keep going!” she cried.
Celestia smiled and followed, atop her own golden magical trail. Soon the two climbed into the sky as one, side by side.
Twilight's wings were steady now, matching Celestia's beat for beat. She looked at her mentor and identified her smile. It was beyond her 'happy to see Twilight' smile or even her ‘I’m proud of Twilight’ smile. It was pure joy and contentment. Knowing she’d helped elicit that smile warmed Twilight's barrel as much as the sun did.
As they continued their climb to the east, Twilight noted the sky was turning dark. The first stars were becoming visible. This high up, the stars did not twinkle but were sharp points. Twilight saw shooting stars momentarily flash into existence; she and Celestia were so high, the shooting stars appeared below them.
On the eastern horizon, Twilight could see the lights of griffon cities across the Celestial Sea. Far to the north, she could see the aurora above the Crystal Empire. To the west, the lights of Las Pegasus and the open waters of the North Luna Sea were visible. All of Equestria and more glittered in the dark below her and it was a more beautiful vista than she’d ever imagined.
Twilight looked around the sky and found Celestia climbing beside her. The light of the setting sun turned Celestia’s wings and coat from pearlescent to orange and finally to deep red. Twilight thought Celestia was at least as beautiful as the magnificent vista below her.
The sun finally set, leaving Celestia and Twilight in shadow. There was darkness all around. Only pinprick stars illuminated them.
Celestia was now a shadow at the tip of a golden trail. Her body was only discernible when she eclipsed a star.
The sun, that had warmed Twilight, lifted her and protected her, was nowhere to be seen.
Instantly, there was nothing in Twilight’s lungs and nothing beneath her wings. Her eyes bulged, and her limbs bloated, forced out from pressure within that was no longer opposed.
Panic rose in her empty barrel. Twilight gasped, like a fish out of water. She flailed her wings, but only caused herself to tumble, as there was nothing to push against.
Twilight had no focus to do magic and knew no spell that might save her. She tried to call out, but there was nothing in her lungs to carry the sound. Her mind began to fuzz.
“How could I have been so foolish, to fly out of the sun’s reach,” she thought.
Celestia continued to zoom away, her golden trail receding to a pinpoint.
Even as her consciousness dimmed, Twilight’s inner voice wouldn’t be quiet. “Celestia is in shadow, but she is still flying. Why do you think the sun has only abandoned you?”
A question. A test! Something she can answer. Twilight knew she was good at tests. She tried to speak, but no words come. Her inner voice was insistent, “Do your friends abandon you, just because you’re out of their sight?”
Twilight could feel bubbles forming as the fluids in her eyes, mouth, and throat began to boil away. Forming words got increasingly difficult, so she emphatically shook her head no.
“Then why have you abandoned your new friend?”
Her abandon the sun? No. She’d been abandoned! When the light faded and the sun disappeared, she’d assumed that she’d been left all alone.
And her assumption had made it so.
With her last shreds of consciousness, Twilight gathered what focus she had, and called inside her mind, trying to rekindle the connection to the sun. “I’m so, so, sorry. I didn't mean to shut you out. I don't know how this works. When I lost your light, I thought you were gone, and then you were gone, and I panicked…”
A light pressure in her mind silenced her ramble, like a hoof placed over her muzzle. The warmth in Twilight's barrel blazed anew. Her gasping lungs breathed in a full calming breath. Her eyes moistened and cleared. Her raw mouth and throat became supple. Her flailing wings found purchase and her tumbling ceased.
Twilight shook her head again to clear it. She took in another deep breath and blew out... something. Sun stuff. Energy. Life itself. Whatever it was the sun supplied, it was healing her and keeping her alive.
“Thank you,” she thought. She took in another breath. “Thank you so much.” She ran her foreleg over her muzzle and swept the mane from her eyes.
With returning focus, came regret. “I'm not being a very good friend, am I? All I keep doing is asking for things. How can I return the favor? What can I do to make you happier?”
Twilight felt the bubbling warmth rise in her barrel. But before she could discern an answer, there was a flash of light and Celestia appeared before her, looking very concerned. When they locked eyes, the warmth of the sun raced to each of Twilight's extremities: all four hooves and both of her wing tips. Acting on instinct, she raised them all in Celestia’s direction.
Seeing Twilight’s distress, Celestia accepted the invitation. Gliding forward, she embraced the smaller pony. Warmth blossomed in Twilight’s body fully, from hoof to pinion and from horn to tail.
Twilight’s inner voice cried out, “what are you doing?” But in her mind, she responded, “A hug brought a smile to Celestia’s face when I did it as a filly. And no other pony is around to object.”
”I’ve missed all this,” she told herself, “The discussions... the learning.... the physical contact. Missed what I have right here.” Whether the warmth she felt was from the sun or from embracing Celestia, Twilight didn’t care. She wanted it to go on forever.
“This has all been so bewildering... terrifying... amazing,” she whispered. Her eyes were closed and moist. “Had you asked beforehand, I’m not sure I would have wanted to go through with it, especially all at once. But after experiencing everything, I can’t imagine doing it any other way.”
Twilight gripped Celestia with all her strength. “Thank you so much for sharing all of this with me.”
“You are infinitely forgiving of the mistakes of this ancient mare.” Celestia squeezed Twilight a single time. “I never meant to cause you distress.” She released her hold.
“We both made assumptions, and they lead us astray,” Twilight whispered.
“We don’t know each other as well as we used to,” Celestia admitted.
“We can fix that,” Twilight replied.
“We will fix that,” Celestia agreed firmly. “No more assumptions. We will keep seeing each other. We will open up. And we will tell each other what we’re thinking.”
Twilight’s grin was so wide it threatened to take over her entire muzzle. “I’d like that.”
Sometime after the sun had set, Luna must have raised the moon. Its full disk now shone upon them and the moon’s gentle light illuminated the alicorns.
To Twilight, Celestia was breathtakingly beautiful, backlit by the lunar disk. With effort, she inhaled, and then let out a shuddering breath. Even with the sun’s support, Twilight was exhausted. “One part of me wants to keep flying until we put our hooves on the moon.” She smiled weakly. “Another part of me wants to sleep for a week.”
“Leave it to you to pack a year’s worth of mystic advancement into one harrowing afternoon.” Celestia smiled gently. “Let’s head back now. We will have days and days and days together to rebuild our relationship.”
The two each gave each other a final nod, then drifted apart. Together they spread their wings, did a half roll, and arced down in a stupendous dive. Gravity, magic, wings and sun-power rocketed them back towards their homes.
That night, stargazers across Equestria saw a pair of parallel light trails, one golden and one magenta, knifing down from the heavens. Higher than the tops of the tallest clouds, each trail blossomed in a burst of light, one a golden sunburst, the other a six-pointed magenta star. The trails continued through the dissipating bursts, the golden trail arcing to Canterlot and the magenta trail to Ponyville. And all who witnessed the event knew their princesses were watching over them in the night.
Spike got up groggily and wiped the sleep from his eyes. Dawn was just filtering through the castle windows. ”It’s too early,” Spike whined. He flicked his tongue. “Is that tea I smell?”
He waddled out of his room and down the corridor. Starlight’s door was still closed. She had a tendency to study magic late into the night, just like a purple princess he could name. Anyway, both she and Twilight were coffee drinkers in the morning.
He followed the smell to the big double doors that lead to the balcony. The good tea set was on the trolley near the doors and the firebox was lit under the teapot. This meant whoever made the tea hadn’t used magic. Spike was the only one in the castle who normally made tea without using their horn.
Sweeping the curtain aside with his claw, Spike peered out onto the balcony. The silhouette of the city of Canterlot perched on side of the Canterhorn bisected the crimson of the sunrise. Spike had to admit it was beautiful.
Twilight sat on the balcony, gazing at the dawn, with her wings tucked in tight. She held a steaming teacup in both hooves.
Spike opened the door, stepped out, and closed it. The crisp morning air made him shiver. Spike could bathe in lava but got cold easily. “Up all night?”
“Good morning, Spike.” Twilight waved him over with her wing. “No, I just decided to get up early.” When he got close, she surrounded him in a wing hug and pulled him close. Spike didn’t mind; her wing was warm. “I’m just greeting the dawn and thanking the sun for shining.”
“And drinking tea you made by hoof.” Spike wiggled a little to get fully covered by Twilight’s wing. “When did you become a morning pony?”
“After my visit with Celestia yesterday.” Twilight looked back at the dawn. “I think I may make a habit of it.”
Spike poked Twilight in the side, three times, lightly. “Are you actually Thorax playing a trick on me?”
“I’m not a changeling, Spike,” Twilight chuckled. “My visit with Celestia was just… an eye opener.”
“What happened?”
“It started when we teleported to the top of the Canterhorn…”