Starlight poked her head out the door. To her left, a long corridor wound into darkness. To her right, the emerald windows lining the ceiling cast the hall in a lustrous glow, indicating the sun was still out.
No Spike. He must be downstairs, mingling with everypony. Good. After their argument, she wouldn’t be surprised if Spike was the one avoiding her. Guilt and anxiety made for a painful thrashing in her chest. I need to apologize next time I see him, whether I’m right or not.
Starlight trotted down the hall, her face firm as stone.
Gemstones of pink, blue, and orange were draped from crystal columns, seeming to lure her toward the clamor of that stupid party, Celestia’s white flag of surrender. Starlight snorted, and pushed it out of mind, letting it rest alongside the faces of her friends, the princess’s tears, their blind acceptance, and her unbridled rage. Starlight pushed them aside, for they were all so very small.
Insignificant.
But fear crept in to replace it; the horror of last Sunday, these past two weeks, or the night before, when Twilight’s only hope turned out to be characters from a children’s storybook.
Starlight refused to acknowledge this party’s existence. She hadn’t even left the castle’s western wing before throngs of partygoers had bled into its mazelike depths. Trotting down the hall, smiling brightly to each, all were faces she’d recognized: Ponyville residents she had come to know over the years. Apples and Pies. One of Twilight’s school friends speaking to an older mare who must have been a professor. A couple of yaks, masses of fur and horns, stood out alongside the softly-colored carapaces of changelings. It seemed the entire hive was here, although she didn’t see Thorax’s orange horns anywhere.
All of them were the same: brave smiles upon their lips that were belied by the sadness in their eyes.
Starlight slipped around every pony, with a faint greeting and a smile to each. Every apology and blessing was returned with a muttered thanks. Nopony stopped her, thankfully.
They probably thought the princess’s former student was taking this the hardest.
“Hey there, Starlight. You got a minute?”
She froze, wanting to moan aloud. Why you? she thought. Why’d I have to run into you, of all ponies?
There was no telling what he knew, what Spike might have told everypony. Starlight rounded on him, forcing a bright smile to allay any suspicions the first friend she’d ever made might have. “Hey, Sunburst!” She took one look at him and laughed. “Whoa, overdressed a bit?”
The stallion held his head lower than usual, before he smiled bashfully. His ears were wilted, matching the mood of his black, star-spangled cloak. “You could say that. I’m the only one here who came dressed for a mourning party.” Starlight’s gut twisted. “I guess the next time Pinkie sends me an invite that says ‘mellow’ and ‘casual,’ I should believe it, huh?”
Starlight really had somewhere to be. But the idea of just brushing Sunburst aside was truly appalling; he meant too much to her to be treated like that. “Huh. So, um, is Cadance and Shining Armor here?” It was a dumb, obvious question, but it was the best small talk she could think of.
“The royal family’s having a moment with, uh, T-Twilight.” Sunburst gulped, sighing shakily. “There’s a line going from her room to the foyer, you know.” He smiled feebly. "Shining was nice enough to let me see her after, since I’d been with Flurry Heart all afternoon but, well, I saw a few ponies who should have that time first.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I saw a few of the Elements in line, too.”
Starlight’s heart skipped a beat. “Is Rainbow one of them?”
“Um,” Sunburst stammered, fixing his glasses, “y-yes, why?” he chuckled awkwardly. "It's not like she'll be done anytime soon! Twilight was very clear on the sanctity of the queue."
“Oh, no reason!” She felt her heart rise. And with Twilight involved, there’s no way she’d give up her spot to stop me. So there’s less of a chance for her to catch up to me when I leave.
“Hey, it’s good to see you in high spirits, Starlight.”
She snapped back to Sunburst, blinking, taking in his sad smile. “I am? I mean… Why’s that?” she replied with a nervous laugh.
He opened his mouth, then covered it to clear his throat. Starlight was practically dancing in place. She really needed to leave, the sooner the better, before Spike caught wind of what she was doing.
Sunburst pressed on. “I’m sorry, it’s just... I didn’t even anticipate seeing you tonight. Ridiculous, I know. Since this is your home and everything. But Spike said you’ve been holed up in your room all day, and that you probably weren’t going to attend the party… So, I’m glad to see you came down.”
Starlight was only half-listening. “Y-yeah, Sunburst. Me, too. Now, if you’ll excuse me...” She trotted past him.
“Wait, Starlight!”
She swallowed a groan before turning around, grinning. “Yes?”
Sunburst hesitantly pointed a white hoof at her. “Where’re you going? Is that a…” He angled his head, squinting, as he pushed his glasses up his snout. “A book, in there?”
Starlight gulped, then whirled her hindquarters aside to hide the saddlebag that… Sunburst had already seen.
Darn it.
“Uh, well, y-you see…”
"Are you distracting yourself with a good book? I get that, but this seems a little..."
How would she explain this at Twilight’s ‘Sorry you’re gonna die but it’s okay I guess’ party? Or whatever the point of this big get-together was.
Wait, of course!
Sunburst was droning on about something. “Well I’m sure we could find Trixie or King Thorax. They’d be happy to see y—”
“Ah, you know what, Sunburst?” Starlight cut in, slowly backpedaling. “I was hoping to just slip outside and, you know.” She nosed her saddlebag. “Catch up on some memories. I’ve… got a couple years to sort through, after all! So many of them with Twilight.”
“Ooh, a scrapbook! Uh, o-of course—”
The words had barely left his lips when she turned and began galloping down the hall. She made the next right, down a stairwell ringing with clamor.
Starlight slowed as she reached the foyer. It was packed end to end with bodies, all of them speaking in low mutterings which combined into a drizzle of voices.
She calmly trotted down the stairs.
There were so many faces she recognized, but hardly any names. There was Pinkie’s stallion doppelganger, who helped put together the Friendship Festival. Speaking of which, there was the Celestia-sized hippogriff and a Luna-sized one by her side, chatting with Prince Pharynx. All three of them wore somber faces, save for that bipedal cat and the troupe of parrot pirates bagging the buffet table.
Starlight staggered a bit in her step. Whether she knew their names or not, every face was familiar.
The Pillars stood in the corner, to the right of the huge doors which stood slightly ajar.
The brief moment Starlight glanced in their direction revealed them all crowded around Meadowbrook, whose gaze was cast to the floor. Somber Starswirl had a foreleg wrapped around her from one side, Somnambula hugging her from the other. The youngest Pillar’s face was streaked with mascara, her smile now as feeble as her legendary hope.
Stygian waved to Starlight. He might have wanted her to come over. Maybe. She just waved back. There was a life to save. The sight of Somnambula disgusted Starlight, but no more than she loathed herself for feeling the same.
She was blameless. Everypony was. They were gathered tonight because Celestia had decided that Twilight’s days were numbered.
As she slipped through the parted doors, Starlight couldn’t get Spike out of her mind, or how she felt about her friends, even the princess. They thought their best friend was going to die.
Starlight hated this, hated how easily they’d given up. Most of all, she hated how angry she felt towards them. Spike was wrong—everything happens for a reason. Twilight wasn’t meant to die with her destiny unfulfilled.
Starlight stepped a hoof out the door, then paused.
This is it, she realized. Everything inside her seemed to squirm incessantly.
There was no turning back after she stepped through this door. She would either be the hero who saved Twilight, or the fool who lied to her friend as well as herself, denying the facts that had stared her in the face.
Starlight cast a glance over her shoulder, to the ponies whose feelings she had been dismissing for days.
Buffet tables lined either side of the hall. Lavender banners dressed the walls, and ribbons of seven different colors—even Starlight-pink—hung overhead. Clusters of guests had gathered from every corner of Equestria, in circles ranging from three ponies to seven, all of them faces Starlight recognized, if not by name. Every one of them was here because they loved Twilight, just as she did. Every one of them was lost within themselves.
Starlight had learned what a pony pretending to be happy looked like. And she’d become painfully intimate with how that felt.
There were at least a hundred smiles in this room, and not one of them reached the sadness in their eyes. A hundred lives, touched by the Princess of Friendship.
A hundred reasons why Twilight deserved to live, no matter the cost.
Starlight felt her insides clench, the pleasant warmth inside turning against her. Love, Starlight realized. That was what she felt. I’m doing this because Twilight’s my friend, and I don’t want anypony in this castle to lose her.
She exhaled a long, steady sigh. No, she decided, nopony’s forsaken her. Not even Celestia. It was hard, clinging to hope, especially when everything in one’s power wasn’t enough.
Starlight had only gotten this far because she was desperate enough to take the leap of faith. She could see it now: on the other side of the abyss stood Twilight, happy and her coat bright lavender. Spike hugging her with tears streaming down his face, with all their friends doing the same. Starlight among them.
But that reality was far, far away. She would need a miracle to cross that gap.
A million thoughts circled her mind, hundreds of conflicting emotions raging inside of her. It was a maelstrom of feelings inside, ranging from the hot and bitter draught of grief, to the hardening determination in her chest that had propelled her this far.
Only now did the petrifying, blood-chilling prickle of fear come to the forefront. No, not fear—terror.
What if Celestia really had tried everything, even the Flutter Valley coven?
Or worse, what if Spike was right about her? What if desperation had driven her to insanity?
No. Starlight stilled her trembling lungs. NO! She banished the fear swelling in her throat. Spike’s wrong. I’m gonna save Twilight and prove him wrong.
Something willed her forelegs to move, and the cool breeze of Ponyville at dusk chilled her perspiring face.
I’m coming for you, Witches, Starlight told herself. A moment later, she was tearing down the lonely path that wound into Ponyville.
Starlight’s heart flared, fueling her with the fight to ignore the burning in her legs as she galloped hard into town.
This was meant to be. I’m supposed to be here. It’s my destiny to find you, because Twilight has to live. She’s too important. So, I’m going to find you, Witches, and when I do, we’ll strike a deal.
The streets of Ponyville were deserted, its population having convened at the castle and beyond her ability to care anymore.
Starlight blinked tears out of her eyes. Whatever that is, whatever you want, it’s gonna save Twilight. She blinked again. She must have been running very hard for the wind to be stinging her eyes so much.
Starlight slowed to a stop within the empty market. Her panting echoed softly against the dark, quiet huts and vacant stalls surrounding her.
She looked back at the distant silhouette of Friendship Castle: crowned in the gold of sunset, ribbons of lavender and magenta draping it like a glorified Hearth's Warming tree.
Starlight shifted her eyes ahead. There stood the object of her mad dash, huge, purple, and anchored to the wishing well in the market’s center.
Cherry Berry’s balloon.
Starlight wasted no time levitating herself inside the pink basket.
Propping herself on its golden rim, she beheld her home decked in banners, streamers and balloons colored in Twilight's palette. Starlight’s nose tickled. She sniffed the feeling back and turned to the rope anchoring Cherry’s balloon to Ponyville. “Sorry about this, Cherry,” she muttered, grasping it in her magic.
Starlight watched as the village slowly fell away from her. Soon, it was all just a cluster of thatched roofs with an enormous, crystal tree clutching a castle overlooking it all.
It was all so quiet, so peaceful. It always was. Even years later, Starlight couldn’t believe the village she wanted Our Town to be had existed all along.
Starlight gazed south, into the burnt-orange horizon that seemed to be slowly filling the world. Her heart wouldn’t stop racing. It beat so hard, it hurt.
Faith, she thought. I need to have faith The same faith Twilight had in me when she offered her hoof.
This is meant to be, she told herself, her hoof trembling as she massaged the trembling in her breast.This is right. I’m right. I’ll save Twilight, and nopony will have to lose their friend.