//------------------------------// // Holiday Special: A Kaiju Carol, Yet to Come // Story: The Bridge: A Godzilla-MLP Crossover // by Tarbtano //------------------------------// The world around Xenilla seemed washed out and faded as if it had no fully solid form and was shrouded in mist that seemed to change it to and fro in a nearly constant rate; tiny deviations ebbing in and out of existence. To some extent, it made sense to him. After all the future was always changing, never constant. A butterfly would flap its wings and shift the air oh so slightly, causing a hurricane across the world in its effect. If everything from how the particles in the air fell to the decisions made by others was in constant flux and could go in a myriad of different directions, nothing but inevitabilities were constant. He was still in Equestria, that much was certain. He could see a none too distant mountain through the mists that seemed to be Canterlot mountain, but the town around him was unrecognizable. In essence, the best he could ascertain was that he was somewhere in central Equestria in one of the many towns built upon the routes filtering back to the capital; like capillaries and veins that stretched out from a heart. His previous hosts had left him, but his new one had not made themselves known. In the back of his swirling mind, between the confusion as to where he was and the frustration he had with his subconscious creations refusing to let him wake up; Xenilla felt an unease. Across all versions of the carol, he was familiar with, both here and on Terra; the Spirit of Times Yet to Come was little to joke at. If Past was placid and small, and Present was big and lively, one way or another, Yet to Come was another matter entirely. He steeled himself and, after a moment’s more of contemplation, moved on. He paced down the town with barely a soul in sight. All the distorted, shrouded houses were lit with occupants, all the passersby were in the distance no matter where he tried to move; he was completely alone. Xenilla cursed his subconscious. -Does he intend to lock me down in a psychedelic dreamscape to waste even more of my time?!- His lips curled, not knowing how long he’d spent wandering the dark streets in mental isolation. He just wanted this dream to get over itself already so he could try and salvage this holiday. After finding himself in an empty plaza, he finally stomped and roared. “I CALL YOU OUT-UT-UT-ut-ut-ut!...” His voice echoed in a distorted way like he was speaking in an empty room despite being out in the wide open. “SPIRIT! SHOW YOURSELF-SELF-SELF-self-self-self!...” The mists shifted in a slow breeze coming from behind him, a slow gale of wind passed over him that was both frigid cold and unnaturally hot. The distortion affection the echoing sound petered out, replaced with an eerie feeling of company. Xenilla sneered and whipped around to face it, being savvy enough to know this was whatever demented ghost his mind had conjured up making its entrance. When he turned, however, he instinctively froze. Obscured by the mists was a dark figure, and unlike Present’s paltry attempt to look intimidating at first, this visage did so without a single word. It stood away from him on the edge of the illumination of a streetlight, tall and imposing as the mists and falling snow wreathed its form. He saw no eyes, and yet he knew whatever was under its hood as it stood in the shadows was looking at him. Xenilla took in a deep breath and lower his brow, refusing to be cowed. He advanced towards it, stopping less than three meters away; the close distance offered no more indications as to its form. They stood in silence, Xenilla leering at it like it was a challenge, until it slowly turned and began to walk away into the snowfall to partially vanish into the storm. Xenilla’s lip curled and he wanted to shout at it to either say something or do something to get this pointless dream finished already. But, his patience presided over his frustration and he followed. The Spirit of Hearth’s Warmings Yet to Come continue to pace along as though it didn’t even notice him, staying just out of reach no matter how fast he tried to move to overtake it. Xenilla resigned to walking and followed for a time, so focused on it he didn’t notice the scenery change; be it from some sort of magical shifting of location or them having just been walking that long. They were back at Sweet Apple Acres. The home was just as lively as when he’d left it, even if he couldn’t quite make out any voices anymore. Forgetting his company, he almost mentally wondered aloud why the spirit would bring him back to somewhere he had just been; when he stopped to notice the Apple Family. There was another young mare present, one with a magenta mane and pale pink coat. What caught Xenilla’s attention was she was a unicorn, unlike the rest of the Apple family, and how she seemed somewhat familiar. Like he’d seen her face in passing recently, such as at the hospital where everyone on the plateau had been brought to recently. She was nuzzling Big Mac as another mare walked past Applejack. It took Xenilla a few moments to notice the mare, laughing it up with a slightly more gray-haired Aunt Orange, was a much larger Apple Bloom, now sporting a much more heavily braided tail and twin tail mane. Applejack and an old stallion sporting a pear cutiemark stepped outside and stood beside an ancient zap-apple tree moved near the house. Xenilla paused and watched as Applejack and the old stallion put two open jars of zap-apple jam down at the base of the tree, the latter putting an arm around his granddaughter as the other family came out to join them. His eyes drifted downwards with uncertain feeling, thinking he knew now why Granny Smith wasn’t present. Xenilla sighed in momentary respect, “Sayonara, Matron Smith. Only old age could do you in.” He felt the wind shift again and looked towards it, seeing the spirit standing on the path ahead in the moonlight with its head slightly turned around under its hood. It was beckoning him. With a mind unsure, he did so. He kept walking for so long, mind unfocused on time. He didn’t even really notice he’d been looking at the ground all this time until he beheld where he was now. The setting was almost astoundingly beautiful, the moonlight above perfectly streaming down into the glade they now stood in. A creek slithered by and moon flowers reflected up to a sea of white against the silvery beams from above. Several rabbits hopped about, not disturbing a single leaf nor showing any caution around the occupants. The gravestones indicated a cemetery, the multitude of which in such a small locale was likely indicative of a family graveyard. Less a western tombstone and more a small shrine, with an octagonal pillar of marble sticking up. Hollow in one part, the individuals present had opened the twin doors on the bottom part of the pillar. Two names were written on the stone, a husband and wife Xenilla could tell from the gesture. One side bore a small locket inscribed with a moon while the other side sat a pair of white glasses, a rose and moon lily crossed between them. The attendees were predominately female, two mares and three kirin does. Of the fairer sex, all but one of them were clearly in advanced age with graying hairs. The kirin doe in red was in a robe burning incense on a pole, clearly a priestess of some sort. Floating down from above, Princess Luna landed in the grass amongst the group without so much as a hint of sound. She looked slightly different than recent memory portrayed her as. Taller and larger in wing, looking a bit more mature and akin to her sister in stature and build. The sole youth and sole male stood next to each other, the latter patting the former on the back as she walked up and placed an offering inside the tiny crypt. Xenilla’s eyes briefly widened when he recognized the massive stallion was none other than his brother, looking only slightly weathered with a growth of hair upon his chin. But, as the metallic coil around his horn glimmered in the moonlight, he looked ancient in his solemn silence. His company was easily recognizable as his student, all grown up. Evidently, Mariner Chibi Moon would grow up to be quite the stunner by pony standards, her pigtails having grown into long twin tails that trailed her form. She stumbled at the altar as it was closed and the others came to her, without a single word said. Xenilla watched on in likewise silence, trying to contemplate as to what this all meant. Granny Smith was dead, Ms. Moon’s parents had passed on, such was nature of life and death. It was a fact he was aware of since his first year and first moments. Xenilla’s heart sunk slightly with some sympathy and even more confusion. One family going on with the festivities in remembrance and another family was quietly morning those departed on the same day. He couldn’t help but remember Blade Dancer’s words about how this holiday was about festivities and spending time with others, and how the Spirits of the Present had and forced upon him the importance of memory. And now he was trying to connect this to all of that, something especially difficult with the solemn quiet in the ceremony for Chibi Moon’s parents. The wind blew past him again and he looked at it, no longer angry or frustrated but now overcome with so many questions. Xenilla looked to the Spirit of Hearth’s Warmings Yet to Come and slowly asked the greatest of them. “... Why?” The Spirit looked to the memorial session without verbally answering him, then to Xenilla. Still, nothing. “Y-Yes I know her parents are dead. Everyone dies eventually, it’s sad but no one can fight time. If you’re some projection of my mind trying to make sense of this holiday to me, why are you showing me something so dreary on a holiday that is supposed to be so happy? What am I supposed to think now? That it’s not worth anything now because eventually someday someone won’t be alive to enjoy the holiday?!” The Spirit only seemed to nod slightly at the procession. The group had gotten back up and evidently, the silence was finally broken. The red-clad priestess kirin had made some sort of remark towards the grave, something Xenilla couldn’t quite pick up but he thought he heard the words “Bun head” in there. She’d gotten some odd looks, but Mariner Moon quivered. Before he could wonder if she was crying, he heard an indication of laughter. The group seemed to lose their intensity, and other remarks were being thrown around. A yellow mare with a red double bow in her hair picked up a rose growing in the ground near the grave and goofily waved in front of her face before chucking it at the blue kirin, whom dramatically clutched her chest and fell over. Even Princess Luna seemed to get in on the fun, pulling off her tiara and dramatically throwing it at the yellow mare, who squealed and ducked under the projectile. Mariner Chibi Moon, tears still streaming from her eyes, was lifted up by Godzilla Junior and a seemingly similarly strong, quite tall green kirin doe. She loosed a burst of beautiful magic that trickled down with the snowfall as her family friends reenacted more scenes of her parents’ lives. What had been a scene of quiet mourning became very comparable to the Apple Family. Memorialization in two different means with the same result. Xenilla watched on with a tiny sigh. A bead of happiness started to slither into his heart before he remembered something else about the carols. How the Scrooge saw the wake of their own end. A dourness took hold over him. -Never had the best opinion of myself..- Xenilla closed his eyes and tried to brace himself as the wind blew past him, knowing the Spirit of Hearth’s Warmings Yet to Come was guiding them to a final destination. He tried not to think of Blade Dancer, about the Empire, about the myriad of things that might be shown as thriving in his passing now that he no doubt ruined this day to them and, given the time he’d spent with Yet to Come; had missed his chance to correct it. A similar hopelessness that played his last thoughts when he first crashed into the moon following his battle with his father took hold. Then he thought he’d wake up to see his world harmed. Now he thought he’d wake up to see some things that meant the world to him harmed. The burning and yet freezing gales blew across his face again and he was back in the town he had started in. Xenilla slowly opened his eyes, knowing his company was hovering beside him in a manner could determine if it was threatening or trying to comfort. “Spirit, projection of my mind, whatever you are… I doubt showing me my end will affect me like the scrooges. I’ve made peace with my end since the day I was born. Since then, I’ve only wanted to atone for what I’ve done… Please, let me do good for others,” his head lowered down and his bangs cloaked his eyes, “Just tell me the answer I need for their sakes?...” The Spirit of Hearth’s Warmings Yet to Come stared at him as the mists and snow fell all around them. A feeling, almost like it was projected by the entity onto Xenilla, was washed over the latter. It indicated direction, guidance towards his answer. Xenilla turned around. He’d been standing in front of gravestone. Brushing off his momentary surprise, he was about to plead with the spirit to stop toying with him and just show him the answer. He didn’t want to see his own grave, he didn’t care about his own grave. His subconscious needed to stop focusing on the stories and get to the point! He was infuriated, brimming with frustration and anger in a rush. The Spirit’s wind came at him again, this time a howling roar of a gale that forced him back down, forced him to look at it. That was when Xenilla finally realized he wasn’t in a normal carol. It wasn’t his gravestone. ‘Brenda “Bl-’, the rest of the stone was covered in snow and yet he felt he knew already what it said. Xenilla was still like he’d been impaled by a cold through the chest. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees and haunches, slowly extending a hoof. He begged he pleaded for it not to be what he thought it was. He was right and hated it all for it. ‘Brenda “Blade” Cheryll Dancer’ Her titles, no doubt many, were obscured by the snow and frost; and Xenilla didn’t have the heart to remove them. He shook, sparks of red power uncontrollably arcing across his body. Crystal ripped out of the ground and shattered uncontrollably in the broiling flurry of emotions. The Spirit’s breeze blew past him, echoing his own words into his mind. -”Everyone dies eventually”- Xenilla twitched, slowly beginning to rise up through his convulsions. “I-I’ll… KILL anyone, ANYTHING that tries to harm her! I won’t allow it!” The Spirit ‘spoke’ again, repeating Xenilla’s own words. -”Only old age could do you in”- “I’ll.. find a way!”, Xenilla choked, “Find a way to extend her lifespan! There must be-” He didn’t want to see Blade Dancer, his Blades pass, he’d scour the world for a way not to have to see that. Xenilla didn’t even know why he was getting so worked up over this, but that didn’t matter. It only got worse when the Spirit echoed him again. -“no one can fight time”- It mocked him with inevitabilities, Xenilla snarled. It dared mock him about this, with her?! He’d witness his own grave a thousand times before he ever wanted to see this! He’d miss a million Hearth’s Warmings and fight Ghidorah solo again than see this! This Spirit, this cruel bastard toyed at his heart like the alleged love did all those months ago. He swore he’d never have romantic feelings then and he broke that promise, love was controlling and hurting him all the same and he didn’t do a thing to stop it. He just acted like a broken heart did. Xenilla loosed a booming roar and whipped around, spewing out a torrent of plasma that bypassed the coronal flare and went straight into a spiral fire. His tears evaporated in streams of vapor trails coming from his blazing eyes as it engulfed the Spirit. The projection of subconscious, actual holiday entity, or cruel manifestation of pain Xenilla thought of it as; which it truly was, it didn’t matter. It was swallowed up by all his grief, all his pain, and all his wrath. It just walked towards him and he continued to try and destroy it in retribution, as the heavens and earth shook. It was only after about thirty seconds of prolonged fire that weakness began to reside within Xenilla. Like he was physically spewing out all his energy with his anger, the spiral fire torrent grew steadily smaller and smaller, canceling down to a normal plasma beam. The awesome heat across Xenilla’s body began to fade, steaming tears becoming regular ones. The Spirit of Hearth’s Warmings Yet to Come continued to approach, unfettered by the onslaught. Xenilla’s breath cut out, depleted and spent; he couldn’t care enough to hate it anymore. He didn’t care about most anything right now. He couldn’t must up the strength to fight more, will himself awake, or even will himself to stay on his hooves. He started to crumble when something caught him and held him up. Xenilla felt something against him and his teary eyes. The Spirit was holding him up. In the battle against Grand King Ghidorah, he thought he heard a voice, a roar, that he hadn’t heard in twenty years. He heard it again. “We’re not immortal, neither are they. Every reign, great or small, has its end.” Xenilla felt the snow close around them, falling on their forms as he felt the very physical spirit embrace him in a way he had never been before. “What’s left is what others remember, and days like this are for doing that…” Xenilla finally understood. The Past reminded him some good can be found on the illest of days. The Present showed him the importance of memory in the current day. That which was Yet to Come just taught him what remained in the end of it all, for when the end comes. This wasn’t a typical carol, for their sentiments would have been wasted on him no matter how poignant they were. For someone who’d courted death for so long, casting him into his own grave wouldn’t have gotten the message through. It took love, something he once scoffed at, to understand it. Xenilla slowed his tears and returned the embrace, departed father and lost son reconciling in the snowfall as the world faded to white. Xenilla’s eyes snapped open and he reeled up from his seat, gasping in coarse breath. Feeling like his body was reassembling itself, his consciousness returned in pieces. His face had been leaning on a book, he was seated in a quiet room, inside the Crystal Imperial Library; just where he had left himself. Xenilla quivered and felt at his cheek, pulling his hoof back to reveal a shed tear. He choked and froze. Memories of the past events drifted across him and he desperately clung to them. Origin or sensibilities regardless; he would never let them go. He compartmentalized them to memory, storing them in the most essential portions of his mind. Had it all really just happened? A visitation by some mystic beings of this world using effective forms to reach out to him, or just the effects of a stressed mind influencing his subconscious to show forms he wanted to see on some level; it didn’t matter. All his research didn’t matter. All his previous, now retracted statements didn’t matter. Now he knew what did. Xenilla launched himself up from his study and flew towards the front to make an exit, hoping and praying he could beg for forgiveness from Blade Dancer and the others. He landed in a skitter across the ground when he saw the clock at the front. About 5:45 PM, only about half an hour after he last checked the time. Xenilla’s eyes darted around and his mind worked at breakneck speed. A broad smile formed across his face as he brushed back his mane. His brow began to lift while a shocked but earnest laugh of joy cycled up from his throat. He hadn’t been out for long, by time dilation within a dream or the work of something beyond it was still Hearth’s Warming Eve. He still had a chance, one he had sworn he wouldn’t squander! The images of Fairy Mothra, the Trio of Present, and the Old King appeared in his mind and he praised them with all his heart. Xenilla roared with jubilant laughter even while he rocketed out of the library and got to work. =============================== On the eve of the day and dawning twilight of the night, a large congregation of Crystal ponies started to move out of the opera house. The local talent had put on a pageant of the classic Hearth’s Warmings Eve tale, with the addition of their own history in being an empire forged by the first united expedition, a co-venture to the North by the three races that discovered the Crystal Heart. In such a light, one could see the Crystal Empire as the first truly unified city of the new Equestria given the other large settlements that were the Imperial city’s contemporary were originally founded by one of the races with the others joining in later; such as how the unicorns founded Canterlot. It was an important piece to the imperial identity and a welcome surprise for any visitors born outside of the originally time-locked settlement. Blade Dancer moved in file along with the royal family and the other guards, flanked by their extended families. It turned quite a few heads when her old captain Stalwart arrived with his wife to visit his son for the holiday, any non-crystalline guards and Prince Armor were elated to see their old commanding officer whilst many of the crystal guard showed an intrigue at seeing a commanding descendent of Ardent Sentry. Blade Dancer personally was just more surprised to see Stalwart relaxing as much as he was when he jokingly slipped behind Shining Armor. “ARMOR! ATTEEEEN-TION!” he roared in his old authoritative tone he used as a captain. Prince Shining Armor, royalty but drilled by instinct, dropped whatever he was doing and snapped to attention. He saluted while looking like his eyes were about to burst out of his head in shock. Blade Dancer had to resist the knee-jerk urge to do the same, only stopped by Flash Sentry putting a hoof across her and shaking his head. A small silence passed before Stalwart let out a snorting chuckle, eliciting a roar of laughter from all the guards. Blade Dancer joined in with the laughter, thinking she heard Princess Cadance muttering something to Stalwart about a recording of that command. -Seems that Empress Cadenza has another-.... Empress? Why did I just call Princess Cadance that?! URG!- She scrunched up her nose and shook her head. -Damn it Xeni, you’re rubbing off on me!- While she did jokingly ponder for a moment, her expression soon turned melancholy. Looking around to see all the ponies having such a good time caused her frown to grow. Family spending the day together, friends laughing at the festivities, couples leading each other along as they all left the building. It carried a pang of frustration and minor loss that she shrugged and reluctantly brushed aside. -He has his reasons. Xenilla’s smart, but he’s still a bit of an idiot at times… Maybe I should make myself more overt? Oye, he’s as dense as his brother at times…- There was a murmuring in the crowd up ahead that gave her pause, spurring her to reach up on her tippy-hooves to try and see over. When her section of the hoof traffic reached the big doorway leading out to the main plaza, she soon saw what it was along with the roar of ecstatic children rushing forward. Multiple fillies and colts surged ahead into the mass of shapes and configurations forged out of crystal that were now laying across the main plaza like a playground. Tunneled play forts, brightly colored spires that flashed illuminations of the holiday hues, flying rings, and a large figure that got many of the youngster’s attention. A three-meter tall scaled statue of Godzilla Junior in his kaiju form, crouched down with a slide built into his tail. The front of the impromptu playground bore a symbol Blade Dancer recognized well, a pair of crossed wing blades with a ribbon attached to them. It was her cutie mark, set as a tribute. Before anypony could stop them, if they even wanted to, the children ran free and surged onto their new playground. High above a bluish glow filtered down, emanating from a slowly rotating set of crystal pillars suspended several hundred meters above the ground, supplying a dazzling display for the plaza and was only enhanced when tiny pieces of the crystal started to flake off and harmlessly trickle to the ground like snowfall. To the cityscape’s denizens, who didn’t regularly experience snow within the city walls, this was an awe-inspiring and beautiful substitute even if the surge crystal dust wouldn’t last more than a few hours once it hit the ground. Many ran out to greet the beautiful setting before them, moving in groups amongst the brilliant light or indulging in playing in the simulated, thankfully not freezing snowfall. Princess Cadance and Shining Armor however just stood by stunned, taking it all in. “How. Everypony was inside for only two hours, who…”, Melody Chime muttered breathlessly as she watched on with her adopted daughter. Princess Cadance stood by her mother and looked to the surge crystals, recognizing the cyan blue color. Her face flashed through the motions. Confusion, disbelief, slowly puzzling, and then her mouth became slightly agape in surprised pride and elation. It became more so as Cadance’s husband, aid, and father; Shining Armor, Flash Sentry, and Lead Choir, carted over a gift box about as big as they were. Naturally, it lacked wrapping paper as it was made entirely of crystal spires woven together. Cadance slowly shook her head, “I think I might know who…” Melody Chime raised her eyebrow, “Another friend of yours, deary?” Princess Cadance let herself drift in the memory, everything from a tense encounter at the train station, an infuriating standoff after an apparent rampage, a joined confrontation across the catacombs with the shadow, and a pledge of protection cast upon her entire family, current and yet to be born. Even if said pledge included him trying to give her baby steroids. She sighed contently and nodded. “A good friend. How about we see what’s inside?” She gripped the spire going across the top, which seemed to hold the other ones in place like a pin. Upon drawing it out, the spires fell aways and turned to dust, revealing a large construct inside it. It looked like the work of a master craftspony. Smooth as fine glass but without a single sharp edge to it. With a dangling mobile hanging over the center with small carved images of the crystal heart hanging from the strings, it was a baby crib. Cadance and Shining Armor beamed upon the gift, their hooves touching as they felt each other’s presence. The touch upon their hearts was not only from the gift but whom they knew it was really for. Lead Choir slowly shook his head and beamed, “Looks like my grandchild is going to be well taken care of… Hm?” He reached in after spying something and drew up a small bundle inside, checking the tag on it. “Oh, looks like your friend left you lovebirds something too, Happy Hearth’s Warming!”, he sang as he passed Cadance and Shining Armor a pair of peppermint sticks without a second thought to the slight trickle of power just barely visible in them. Blade Dancer had left a minute earlier, as soon as the package showed up. The pounding pulse in her chest told her where to go even before the minute was up. She knew where he was. ============================ She soon heard the sound of labored, tired breaths from inside the room even before she flew in through the window, taking note of how the window had been deliberately left open. She settled her hooves gracefully upon the floor and beheld the sight before her. Xenilla sat on the ground, tiredly huffing for breath. Some of the luster in his coat was gone and the glow his horn usually gave off was absent. His demeanor, while uplifted, carried with it a sense of haggardness that belied exhaustion. But none such draining stopped him from cracking a warm smile he didn’t typically sport as he looked at her. Not choosing to- or perhaps too tired to -use telekinesis he lifted up a small package in his hooves. “Merry Hearth’s Warming, Blades…” Blade Dancer stepped forward towards the gift, and slowly felt it slip into her hooves. It wasn’t encased in any fancy crystal, but something told her that wasn’t on account of Xenilla being too exhausted to generate any more. No, she knew why the box small enough to fit a pair of shoes was, albeit slightly crudely, wrapped. Just like with why he didn’t use telekinesis to hoof it over to her, she could tell he had wanted to do it the old-fashioned way. The Equestrian way, at least for her. She quivered as she slipped the box’s lid off after undoing the ribbon, finding a familiar novel inside it. “Romance, one of your favorites in it,” Xenilla noted as he sighed, “I remember this one, it’s where the mare and stallion turn into a wolf and hawk at different times to be kept apart. I’m told the separation didn’t work.” Blade Dancer looked upon the gift with shock and confusion, starting to shake. Xenilla perked his brow. “... Did… Did I pick wrong?”, he muttered, sounding so much unlike himself when he was unsure. Blade Dancer let her bangs cover her downturned face as the sight of the gift and memories of the deeds for the children and royal family played before her, “...Why? What happened to you? One moment you’re-... you’re-” Xenilla picked up on her cut off, knowing that she was trying and failing to think of a way to put it without it sounding insulting. He on the other hoof had no such reservations. “Acting like a dense jerk who stomped all over something important to you? Yes, that would be true.” Blade Dancer winced at the blunt summation, though not exactly denying it, “Yeah… but then...” She sighed and shook her head as she motioned towards the window, “Then you’re turning into a regular Santa Hooves. Full playground for the kids, improvised snowfall for the crowd-” Xenilla nodded his head to the side in mild pride, “With about a ton of healing surge crystals. Completely safe and they’ll find fixes for everything from sprained heels to scraped knees on it. That took the most out of me-” Blade Dancer nodded her head rapidly, “YES! EXACTLY! Then on top of that, you got the royal couple their package!... What was it anyways, I left as they were opening it.” Xenilla shrugged, “Baby crib with some decoration and some infused peppermint.” Blade Dancer’s brow lowered slightly, “Infused?! With what?!” Xenilla glanced off to to the side and shifted slightly, “Had to get the Empress to consume the formula somehow.” “..........You spiked the candy cane?” “Both of them, yes.” “And if Prince Shining Armor eats one?”, Blade Dancer deadpanned. Xenilla paused like he was about to say something but had a think about it for a moment, running calculations in his head before just shrugging it off, “Couldn’t hurt him.” Blade Dancer just sat back flabbergasted and shaking her head. Before Xenilla could inquire what was wrong and flashed a worried expression, she cried out in a sharp groan. “AARG! Come here!”, she yelped as she tackled him and knocked him onto his back with her atop him. “Ahp! Blades what’s wrong?” Blade Dancer didn’t get off, almost like she was trying to pin the much larger stallion under her. “First you’re a humbug and then you might as well be in a red suit, did you always intend to do this and were just pranking me earlier?” Xenilla shook his head, not removing her even though he probably easily could even in his tired state. “Then why? Why turn around so quick?!”, she snapped with pained befuddlement. Xenilla closed his eyes almost like he was meditating, reliving all the flashes of vision he’d experienced in his own adventure. Whether it was just some span across his subconscious showing him what he wanted to see to convince himself, or something genuinely beyond his grasp showing him what he needed to see to do the same; it taught him well. “We all have lives Blades, busy ones. Jobs, hobbies, commitments, duties, events, travel, necessities, all of it. Things like friendship, trust, and love are important things in those day to day lives.” Blade Dancer blinked and let her ears flop down, “But you said holidays didn’t matter for that reason. Why have a holiday like Hearth’s Warming when camaraderie, love, and unity should be year round?” Xenilla sighed and slowly shook his head, “Wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t right there. We should do those things year round, but we don’t always have the time for it. Holidays, they’re hallowed days. Times everyone agrees to set aside so they can have time for things like those. Because if we don’t form memories of the time we have with others….” His eyes closed and Blade Dancer felt a slight grip upon her middle, he was hugging her to him like he didn’t want to let her go. “What do we have left later on?...” Blade Dancer stayed in silence for a time, looking to Xenilla as he did to her. After a few minutes, a pair of tears hit the floor together and pooled as one. Blade Dancer sniffled and wiped her eye, giggling happily in a way that infected Xenilla. Soon they were sitting up together, chuckling and embracing. Xenilla sighed, entirely content, “So… like the book?” Blade Dancer snickered and pulled back, kicking off her shoe and running her hoof across his cheek, down his neck, and across his sternum. “Love it… Ready for yours?” Xenilla raised up slightly, too surprised to notice his cheeks heating up, “Eh? You got me something?” “Well, had a pause after this morning buuut, you’re lucky I didn’t have time to stash it away before going to the theater.” She looked at him with sly, half-lidded eyes as she slowly peeled off her armor and tossed it aside. Letting her hair down out of its tie, she pulled a small bundle of leaves from a pocket in her chestplate. Before Xenilla could get a good look as she held it, she tossed it to his face and let it flop against his horn. At this point, he recognized it from the smell and the up-close view. “Mistletoe?.....!!” Xenilla was tackled to the ground with her on top of him as she captured his lips with hers. ==================== Reader Works Section! ==================== A new year and another year to look forward to the most awesome readerbase a guy could ask for. Here's to you all guys! FallenAngel5414 Zeroviks Lazejovanov Falljoydelux Lionpatriot https://saurian96.deviantart.com/ Rhinstonearts and Sabre-Burst Kendell2/GodzillaWolf's Round Robin Jaunt continues with Bridge crew and many more in tow! https://brutalityinc.deviantart.com/art/Equestria-Across-the-Multiverse-Jaunt-51-720812853 https://brutalityinc.deviantart.com/art/Equestria-Across-the-Multiverse-Jaunt-52-722222573 HeatseekerX51 was kind enough to give Faith and I an extends appearance is his own saga! https://www.fimfiction.net/story/278529/path-of-the-unforgiven